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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings: protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him.

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention.

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again.

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.”

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?”

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up.

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though).

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me.

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!”

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.”

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him.

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement.

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin.

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin.

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared.

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them.

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace.

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened?

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older.

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just—

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours.

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too.

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter.

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin.

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—”

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t.

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.”

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin.

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight.

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his.

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out.

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.”

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear.

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.”

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more.

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps.

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.”

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer.

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously.

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.”

***

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

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She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 17 of 27: Magical

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

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A/N: A few announcements - I took some time off these past two weeks because uni started again and I needed a little time to sort stuff out. Because of that I will from now on post one chapter per week. If sometimes I have time for two, then great, but one chapter per week is my goal for now. I hope that’s okay! Also you lovely people keep sending me song suggestions for this story (I wanna cry everytime you do that) and I compiled a little playlist. You can find it here if you don’t have spotify! I love you all so much! For now - enjoy the chapter! Words: 3.4k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: ... making out, I guess?

“Draco …”, you sighed softly when his lips wandered down your neck. “We’ll be late …”

“Hmm,” the tone vibrated against your skin and his hot breath caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“We should really go,” you whispered.

“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes closed as his lips searched for yours. They met and his hands found your hips, pressing his body up against yours. You gasped but the sound was drowned by him. The kiss became faster, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed as if you were high up on the clouds and not in an empty classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Slytherin seemed to have that effect on you and you already knew that the moment he pulled away, your body would be trembling, aching for more for him.

Draco’s fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt until you felt his hands on your bare skin. This was the moment where your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. Turning back, he looked at you confused and out of breath. His usually perfect hair was messy, his lips red and puffy. The green and silver tie around hung loosely around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt were already opened, barely covering up the red lines of a hickey you’d given him.

You had done it to tease him, knowing how much he despised marks or blemishes on his body but it had only ended with him, pulling you in here and pressing you up against the cold stone wall. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” he had grumbled, his eyes suddenly black as the night and your melted right then and there, trembling with excitement.

Now, he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes that made it clear to you, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. You, however, didn’t want to miss the announcement the Headmistress so mysteriously wanted to give tonight at supper.

“We only have around five or ten minutes to get there,” you repeated yourself. “Let’s go!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Why do you want to go so badly?”, he asked. “The others can tell us later –”

“But I want to hear it. It sounded important.”

“Speaking from experience, most things our headmasters or headmistresses announce is less important than they think.”

You chuckled. “That’s your opinion. I’m also hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied and tilted his head again. Before he could press his lips against yours, he was stopped by your finger on his mouth.

You chuckled. “Draco.”

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically and let go of you. “Fine…”

“Stop whining,” you laughed and reached down to grab the robe that he had pulled down your shoulders just minutes earlier. He only smirked at you.

The last two weeks were a blurr. You were drawn to one another, addicted, starving for each other. Lighting struck in your hearts with every whisper, every kiss, every touch. He never left your mind, all your thoughts circled around him. Around being close to him. Being with him. It was ridiculous how much your body longed to feel him against yours. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In conclusion, it wasn’t possible to describe the time with him adequately. Magical was a word the muggles would probably use.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when you watched him work in the library or nod off in the Room of Requirements, a thought entered your mind. It crept up like a monster behind his prey, careful and silent but just as dangerous: This isn’t friendship.

You shut it out but it kept coming back. Waking you in the middle of the night, distracting you when you studied, made you forget your homework. Until now, you were successful in ignoring it. However, along with the thought came the fear that it wouldn’t leave you.

Headmistress McGonagall was in the middle of her speech when the two of you arrived. You glared at Draco, silently saying “I told you so” before you sat down next to Ginny. She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows, guessing where you had come from. You rolled your eyes.

“… Winter Dance.”

You looked up abruptly when McGonagall said those words. She made a pause as if she wanted to see the reactions of her students. They started to murmur and giggle, excitement filled the room like a buzz. She stopped it with a wave of her hand.

“The last time, Hogwarts has hosted such an event was during the Triwizard Tournament”, McGonagall continued. “It feels like a long time ago. This particular school year ended in tragedy when we lost our dear student and friend, Cedric Diggory.” Another pause. “We experienced the Dance however as something beautiful that brought us and you closer together. This is why we, the staff and our Prefects,” she turned to smile at the mentioned people, “decided to make the Winter Dance a yearly tradition. In February of each year, we will come together to celebrate and dance.”

When she ended, the Hall erupted into clapping and cheers. Ginny nudged you excitedly, already making plans for you to go to Hogsmeade to shop for a dress during the next weekend.

“The Winter Dance will be held in two weeks,” the Headmistress announced. “I expect you to wear formal, appropriate attire. Other than that –”, a smile showed on her face, “– I expect you to have fun.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and food appeared on the long tables. The Hall was filled with noise in seconds. You felt the excitement in the air and when Draco winked at you from across the Slytherin table and you couldn’t suppress the smile, you understood the other students.

A ball.

A real ball. With dresses and music and delicious food and everyone having fun. Everyone being normal. Just like the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago yet you remembered every detail of the night. Getting ready with Ginny, nervously waiting for your date, clumsily dancing and trying not to step on his feet. To be fair, you had gotten much better since then. When your father found out that you tripped twice during the night, he spent the also summer between your third and fourth year teaching you how to dance. The memory gave you a feeling of warmth. Oh, how happy and simple your life once was.

“I suppose you’re going with Malfoy?”, Ginny interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer her question. “I suppose you’re going with Harry?”

She frowned. “Of course, we’re dating.”

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It clicked in her brain and Ginny nodded slowly. “Right yes, I keep thinking this all just a feverish dream and you’re not really with him.”

“Stop being rude, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in before taking a sip from her drink.

“She can handle it,” the Weasley girl replied and grinned at you.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said nonetheless. “However, let’s focus on the more important things here.”

Both of the girls looked at you with question marks in their eyes.

“We need to get to Hogsmeade before Parkinson and the whole bunch can buy the good dresses.”

***

One week later …

Draco flinched.

You stopped and looked up at him. He was on his back, shirtless, the covers pulled up just to hips, one arm behind his head, the other one straight next to his body. Although his eyes were closed, you noticed the way he clenched his jaw.

It was quiet in the Room of Requirements. Right now, it had changed to a small room with only a large bed in front of a window from which you were able to see the Black Lake and the stunning Scottish landscape behind it.

“Does it hurt?”, you whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “No, I … I can’t describe it.” He let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” you hummed and your eyes trailed back over his toned chest down to his left arm. The eyes of the snake in his black tattoo seemed to be staring back at you. In your mind, you were curious to see how it looked when it was moving.

“Do you think it should hurt?”, you asked then.

Draco opened his eyes. They found you right away. “I have a therapist for that, you know.”

You smiled cheekily at him.

He turned on his side, using his left arm to prop himself up. Right in that moment, the first rays of the sun hit the window. The light made his skin shimmer golden and it took your breath away for a second. People disagreed on so many things about Draco Malfoy but you were convinced there was one thing, everyone – even a blind person – had to admit: he was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. His expression was serious, not even the hint of a smile. “I can say that, right? As a friend?”

The sudden tone that changed from earnest to teasing, made you snort. “It’s possible to find people attractive without having feelings for them. You’re not blind, are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m definitely not.” After a moment of silence, he then asked: “Have you found a dress yet?”

“Going today before breakfast.”

“Before?”, he raised an eyebrow. That meant you had to leave soon.

You nodded. “We want to get there before Parkinson and the rest.”

“I feel like Weasley and Pansy have quite different price ranges, so she doesn’t have to worry,” Draco remarked.

“But Parkinson and I don’t,” you replied and tried your best not to roll your eyes at his comment.

“True,” he shrugged. “I’d love to buy a dress.”

The statement took you by surprise. You blinked. Draco smiled sadly. It took you an embarrassing long time to understand. From what money. “One day,” you said softly. “Times will change for your family. I’m sure of it.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Draco just looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shifted and so did the blanket on his hips, you noticed. When he saw how your eyes wandered down his body, he smirked. “When do you have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

***

You were the first customers of the day. The store was still closed when Hermione, Ginny and you arrived.

“See, it’s not even open yet. There was no reason for you to be mad at me!”, you exclaimed when you stood in front of the door and saw the ‘Closed’-sign.

“You were twenty minutes late!”, Hermione snapped. Her cheeks were red. You didn’t know if the running or the anger caused it but you were not sure if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well, I was busy …,” you mumbled. “Doing things …”

“Do those things have Malfoy as their last name?”, Ginny asked.

You cleared your throat. “Maybe?”

There was a brief moment of silence in which your friends just looked at you. Then, suddenly, both of them started laughing.

“Just the thought …”, Ginny shivered.

“People like Malfoy don’t have sex, it’s just, no, my mind doesn’t know what to do with this information,” Hermione shook her head.

You snorted at their reactions. It was freezing cold out here and so you began to rock back and forth on your heels. “They do,” you said to Hermione. “Believe me, they do.”

“Is he any good though?”, Ginny wanted to know. “Or is he into some weird kinky Slytherin –”

Luckily, she was cut off when the door opened and a small, old lady looked at you. “Are you here for the Winter Dance?”

***

In all your time at Hogwarts, you had never stepped foot into this shop. For the Yule Ball, your parents had sent you a dress so you really never had a reason to come here.

You were surprised though by the sheer abundance of dresses and suits pressed into the small store. Every color you could think of, tulle and lace and velvet and satin – you and your friends were speechless when you walked in.

“There’s just … so much,” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, dear,” the old lady nodded eagerly. “When we heard about the Winter Dance, we made as many dresses as we could in the short time.”

“They’re all so beautiful,” you said.

“Thank you! They are the best quality in all of Scotland!”, she replied shortly. “How about you take a seat and I will present you with some options that I’d think would look stunning on you pretty girls.”

And with that, she hurried off. Your friends looked at one another before going over to the small couch on the other end of the store. It was located in front of the dressing rooms and a huge mirror.

Hermione was first. She had a pretty clear vision of what she wanted to wear and the old lady picked out the perfect dress right on the first try. It was a gorgeous red ballgown with a sweetheart-neckline. She looked like a goddess.

“Ron will faint,” you remarked and she giggled.

Ginny was next. For her, it was more difficult. She tried on six dresses, in colors from bright pink to black. In the end, she settled for a yellow dress. It clashed with her red-hair in the best way possible and you wondered how it was possible for any guy not to fall in love with her. She was excited when she saw herself in the mirror, turning and twirling in front of it – but her joy was ended abruptly when the old lady mentioned the price.

“I told you my price range,” Ginny said distraught.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she sighed. “But what you wanted … it wasn’t possible.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

Hermione looked over at you and you understood immediately. “We’ll pay for it,” you chimed in.

Ginny turned to you and shook her head violently. “No, absolutely not.” You had expected that reaction. She was just as proud as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Hermione smiled at her.

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s an early birthday gift?”, you tried to offer.

“No!”

“Okay, how about that,” you began, “we only pay the difference. And we’ll split it in half so it’s not too bad.”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just promise us to get us free tickets for your Quidditch games once you’re famous,” Hermione added.

Finally, she smiled. Very hesitantly but she did. “Fine then.”

You were next. Not sure what you’d like, you told the lady to just bring any dresses she’d like to see on you. In this moment, you wished for your mother to be here. No matter how difficult of a person she was, she had an immaculate sense of style. She would have walked in here and picked the right dress immediately.

However, the old lady seemed to have the same gift. When you saw yourself in that first dress, you swallowed heavily. You hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Hermione commented. “That’s the one, no question.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

It was a dark blue dress, flowing down, hugging and accentuating all the right parts of your body. There were little gemstones woven in the fabric of the skirt, making it sparkle with every movement of yours. It must cost a fortune. Luckily, your father still felt guilty for what happened last Christmas and told you to not look on the price tag and to simply send him the bill.

“His favourite colour is green.”

You were so stunned by the dress that you didn’t notice how the door opened and someone stepped in. You looked up, only to see the judging faces of your three Slytherin best friends: Astoria Greengrass, accompanied by her sister and Parkinson.

Astoria stared at you and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she despised seeing you here. “His favourite colour,” she repeated herself. “It’s green.”

Oh, so she wanted to pick a fight.

You frowned, not sure what to say at first.

“Oh, fuck off, Greengrass,” Ginny shot at her, coming to your rescue.

“Wow, a Weasel? In here? You sure you can aff–”

Before she finished her sentence and Ginny got a chance to physically fight her, you raised your voice: “It’s not.”

Astoria focused her attention back on you. Confused, you noticed how her sister – Daphne – rolled her eyes and stepped away, clearly not interested in this petty drama. Parkinson stayed and watched the two of you curiously.

“Excuse me?”, Astoria said.

“His favourite colour isn’t green,” you explained with a soft voice. “It’s this one actually. Blue.”

She blinked.

“And some small piece of advice,” you continued, “wear what you’re comfortable with not what you think men like Draco want.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione looking down on her feet. The corners of her mouth twitched. Ginny on the other hand didn’t hide the wide grin on her face.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Luckily with my body I’m comfortable in everything,” she said coldly.

You smiled. “Okay then. Good for you.”

***

Two weeks later …

“If you don’t want me looking like a house-elf, I have to leave now to get ready!”, you giggled.

Draco ignored you and lowered his head to kiss you again. He was heavy against your body as he pinned you down and when your lips met, a sigh escaped you. He replied by only deepening the kiss – his tongue twined with yours and your fingers tangled in his hair. Draco groaned when you pulled at it and suddenly he changed positions, yanking you up and pulling you in his lap.

You gasped when you felt him, growing more excited already, and pressed yourself against him, biting down on his lip. Dracos hands tightened on your hips and he moved down to where the skirt from your uniform was already riding up. When you felt his touch against your skin, you broke the kiss.

“What?”, he asked, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I have to go now,” you repeated yourself.

He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. You smirked. “And you need to get ready as well.”

“You’re a tease,” he mumbled and you laughed. “Why don’t we just skip the Dance?”, Draco then asked.

You shook your head. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks now.”

“But we’d have so much fun,” Draco tried to argue. You felt his fingers drawing circles on your upper thigh and shivered. His eyes lit up at the reaction. “The castle will be empty. Can you imagine all the rooms we could do it in? How about the Slytherin common –”

You quickly put a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I want to go dance though, Draco.” You lowered your voice: “Besides, don’t you want to see me in my dress?”

“Mhh,” he hummed. “I do. You could only wear it for me?”

You chuckled again and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“So that’s a no?”, he asked when you pulled back.

“No.” You shook your head.

Draco sighed dramatically. “Fine then.”

You smiled at him and kissed him another time, a little longer this time, a little more teasing. “It’ll be fun,” you whispered against his lips. “See you later.” He groaned defeatedly when you got up from his lap.

You reached for your bag and cloak and after a little wave of your hand, you walked towards the door. “Oh and Draco?”, you remembered something. “I’m never gonna do it in the Slytherin common room with you.”

You knew he was smirking without turning around.

“You say that now but wait until –”

The door fell shut before you heard the end of his sentence. ***

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3

CHAPTER 18 Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy, @scoote-rankle, @nxstalgicnxbxdy, @sunsetsofanemoia, @tommy-holland, @lordfxxker, @streetfighterrichie, @awaken-the-sirens, @destiels-assbutt13, @pockitparks, @just-addicted-to-bangtan, @cuddlykoala101, @zpandaqueen, @natsiboo, @jjjmaybank, @justmesadgirl, @books-and-tings, @slytherinprincedracom, @katiaw2, @saintkore, @nctnight, @lifestragedy, @obxmxybxnk, @spideydobik , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @dracomalfoyswifey, @jpow345, @realistic-breadstick, @abbs-is-tired, @alwaysbeanunknownfan, @niallsarmveinstho, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial, @acciowilltolive, , @sexytholland, @faangirl101, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @mendesmuffinsss, @lilxnvm, @kill-the-teen-memories, @darkusangelus, @itsbebeyyy, @hesaidimcrazy, @jenniweaslee, @hpxpjo, @brisbubble, @xomaymay, @shitnstuffillregret, @serialkillme, @angel-tears15, @panicattheeverywherekid, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @nobleking, @tashii-blr, @ddaeing, @randogirlo-fando-main, @sadgirlnumber92899, @captivateing, @bitchyegirl, @smiithys, @ninipoo1, @intheawks, @nothanksnyla, @calpal-4ever, @dracosathenaeum, @belsandthings, , @kiwi-sloan, @xdmx, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy, @kvyenxay, @live-awkward, @babebenhardy, @bitchysweets-blog, @cravingmusic, @frau-moon, @ohissandhalasta, @broken-but-beautiful-cassie, @lil-black-heart, @vminenthusiastt, @dracos-sluts, @ohbabycal, @saucysuazo, @fuzzzwald, @matsuno-nadeshiko, @amber-arsenault , @loveableasshole, @spideycures, @echpr, @shiningstar-byulxx, @twinklebug2282, @bloodiedroses, @klthmef, @ostorian , @bi-chai-tea, @maddieisnotok, @amandaluvssupernatural, @makeoutwithstiles, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @tenclouds, @lovingdracomalfoy, @lannaax, @dr-bitch-bby, @fallinallinmendes, @suckerforparker, @runninglownad, @piercinghorizons, @dosicas, @yanaaaaaaa, @desertdwellerwitch, @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity, @akzer300500, @bbeautyybbx, @hoseokslily, @dracofeltonmalfoy, @emilianamason, @tothemoonwithclifford, @gcldreinhart , @angelofthorr, @k-k0129, @musicalmuffindog1410, @andydre4m, @mxl-foyrecs, @seeinorange, @vlgsqd , @justmimithings, @allthevoicesinmyhead, @pipppaaaaalouisee, @yessirrz, @2think2twice2 @spencerreidisbootiful, @find-a-little-faith, @thatguppienamedbae, @mimi15aguayo, @emmamarie7708, @dontpanicitsdan If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know!

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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Tom Hardy Movies rated least to most queer

I made a list of some Tom Hardy movies and I rated them based on my own, non-specific criteria about what makes a movie queer. Results below the cut.

(Some films not included, because I haven’t watched them yet, because Mr Hardy’s only in them for a few minutes, because the subject matter doesn’t lend itself to this list, or because I just don’t want’em here. TV series also not included. The list is organised into both groups and ratings, because I’m doing The Most.)

Movies are divided into four groups and rated from 0 – 10 on the Queer-Scale, scroll down to the bottom if you want the ratings without the commentary.

Disclaimer: This list is subjective. Don’t come at me because I didn’t rate Inception higher, Nolan himself is as queer as cargo shorts.

1. This movie would make more sense if it were queer

If this movie were queer it… might not become a perfect film all of a sudden, but it’d make a hell of a lot more sense than what’s actually going on. With an occasional dose of “are the cis-straights okay?”

This Means War (2012): So Chris Pine and Tom Hardy are ostensibly both in love with Reese Witherspoon, but say “I love you” to each other pretty much constantly throughout the movie and their friendship is often presented as a domestic partnership. Cool, cool, cooool.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10. This movie hate-crimed me by having Tom Hardy literally spell out his relationship with Chris Pine, only for the script to then have him say… “can you imagine all that… but with a woman…” Later on the movie explicitly denies polyamory is possible. Fuck this film.

The Dark Knight Rises (2012): Batman movies should always be queer. Mr. Hardy’s the only one who acceptably camps it up, despite Nolan’s best attempts to make him “acceptably gruff.” No matter what you do, Bane is a massive daddy in a mask and thanks to Mr Hardy’s honestly iconic fucking speech pattern in this film, it goes from pretty atrociously straight to just queer enough to imagine a future where Robert Pattinson plays batman and maybe adopts a bunch of kids.

(the only truly decent mask in this franchise tbh)

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. Mr Hardy’s back is the one that’s actually broken carrying any semblance of fun in this overly long movie all on his own.

Lawless (2012): Wow, this really was the year of the not-queer-enough, wasn’t it? Look, it’s “based on a real story,” but it’s also a movie and movies don’t need to stick to the truth, and this one certainly doesn’t. Was the guy queer in real life? I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that it’s just kind of an eh movie and maybe being queer would add something to it. One of those “but why make someone queer? because it’s always more interesting to do so,” movies.

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. It’s just not queer. But Tom Hardy wears cardigans and described his character as a “mother figure,” which adds an interesting dynamic to him.

2. Actually Queer but in a homophobic way

Tom Hardy plays a canonically queer character, yaaay. The whole movie contains a strange sense of the director being too not-queer to actually engage with that and everything around him is almost aggressively straight, noooo.

RocknRolla (2008): Honestly this movie has the funniest coming out scene ever + that familiar undertone of “all these manly men secretly want to fuck each other” is only heightened by one of them actually being gay and in love with his best friend. It’s such a fucking… it’s such a movie. Personally I find Mark Strong, Idris Elba, Thandie Newton, and, of course, Tom Hardy to be really hot in it, so that’s a plus. There’s a scene in which Strong’s character teaches another gangster how to do a proper backhand. It’s really gay of him. Also slow-dancing at a gay club. Butler’s character needs to get himself together, you really don’t think 2008 Tom Hardy is hot? Mate.

(left to right: functional queer, disaster queer, distinguished queer)

Queer Rating: 6 out of 10, for having an actual gay character who is played by Tom Hardy doing a sexy phonecall voice to another guy, but then there’s that feeling you can’t shake that the whole movie is vaguely uncomfortable about it, like a family member awkwardly patting you on the shoulder after they found out you were queer second-hand, but they’ve still got 50 years of bias to unlearn. Also Thandie Newton is killed, fuck that noise.

Legend (2015): If I had a nickle for the amount of times Tom Hardy’s played a gay gangster, I’d have two nickles. Which isn’t a lot, but weird that it happened twice (looks at Peaky Blinders and thinks it ought to be three times). I’ve watched Legend three times and every time it just… loses me. And because this is a biased list, I’ll only specifically mention that it fails to make Ron’s queerness anything but a way for him to shock others. Gangsters could be gay? Gasp! On the upside Tom Hardy has so much sexual tension with everyone in this movie, including himself (why would you do that? Asks Ron, bemused. Because I can’t kill you, no matter how much I fucking want to, hisses a blood-soaked Reggie right into his ear. It’s hot).

Queer rating: 5 out of 10 because the film is just not very queer for a movie with several queer men in it.

3. Straight as a forced family dinner

It’s straight.

Locke (2013): He’s a married man who had an affair and trying to deal with the fallout of it. This isn’t a spoiler for most of the movie, it’s a pretty neat movie where we look at Tom Hardy having a bit of a mental breakdown and taking lots of phonecalls (my personal hell). Is it queer? Not in the slightest.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10 for Hardy’s face being in almost every shot.

The Revenant (2015): Yeah, yeah, DeCaprio’s and Hardy’s characters are obsessed with each other, yeah it’s a man’s world where the only women are dead wife, kidnapped sexually assaulted native princess, or background whore, yeah, they fight each other and there’s a ton of grunting, but also… I just fucking don’t like this movie. The thin line where a storyline like this one becomes queer might be crossed for others, but not for me. Fuck these guys and their stupid bear fights.

Queer rating: 3 out of 10 for it being about dirty men in the middle of nowhere (but you could just watch Brokeback Mountain or The Lighthouse or God’s Own Country or any Mad Max, or, or, or…)

4. Queer? Queer. Queer? … Queer…

The plots, aesthetics and/or characters played by Tom Hardy lend themselves to a queer reading, even if there is no overt intention towards queerness. Often this is because of a deliberate lack of heterosexual and/or cisgender writing, which in this day and age is still pretty uncommon not to include within a plot.

Inception (2010): Okay, I don’t even need to write about the added “darling,” or the “go to sleep Mr Eames.” I don’t need to go on about the absolutely bonkers amount of fanfiction written for Eames and Arthur, based on a few minutes of film and a boatload of chemistry. It’s queer.

Queer Rating: 7 out of 10, because the actual plot of the film isn’t very queer, but between the Arthur/Eames dynamic and Elliot Page, Nolan was really given a gift he didn’t deserve.

Warrior (2011): Okay, so first off, this might be my favourite Tom Hardy film, at least some part of my brain is fixated on it at almost all times and I’m considering watching it for the third time in two weeks. I don’t only consider it queer based on Mr. Hardy’s character, although he has no romantic or sexual interest and could be read as aroace, but because of the themes, especially those surrounding said character, who is coded as a caregiver to women and through close emotional connections to men. It’s got possibly unintentional deconstructions of masculinity and two men (brothers) who need to forgive each other and can only do so through the catharsis of violence. It speaks to me as a transmasc with several cis brothers, struggling with my own masculinity. It’s not at all written for me, but I find myself all over it. I could talk about this movie forever.

Queer Rating: 8 out of 10. I’m not allowed to say any more or I’ll never stop writing about it. I love you Tommy…

The Drop (2014): Bob’s lack of sexual and/or romantic interest in Naomi is so strange to her that she doesn’t know what he would want from her otherwise. Bob really just wants to raise a dog with her (and also forgiveness for past sins). Bob is such a rare ace and possibly aro coded character, it really throws me every time I watch this film how obvious it is. Bonus points for also being autistic-coded and not in the stereotypical ways.

(Tom Hardy’s most challenging role: pretending he doesn’t know dogs)

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10 because it’s so fucking rare to see ace and aro coded characters that aren’t, you know…. serial killers. Also Tom Hardy adopts a puppy and has a very cute, kinda lispy voice. How often does Tom Hardy play softer men like this?

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015): Very deliberately no sexual or romantic writing included in Max’s and Furiosa’s relationship. Sure, there’s not a lot of time for that in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, but it was also done with a purpose! “It was always going to be two warriors on par, starting off with very little respect for each other and ending up with a massive respect for each other.” - Charlize Theron. “So of course they meet, of course there’s a relationship, an unspoken understanding. A recognition.” - Tom Hardy.

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10. It’s not just the characters, but the world and it’s apocalyptic BDSM leather scene, the questions it asks about sustainability and about people as tools, and the found family. It’s about overcoming violence through multiple kinds of love. And it’s about watching a guy playing flame-thrower guitar. What could be queerer?

Venom (2018): Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same… No, but Eddie is queer. The only question is whether the sequel will acknowledge that aspect or not, but even if not. Even if it manages to straightly bypass the reality of a symbiotic relationship with a genderless? genderfluid? being from another world that is linked to you down to your very cells and understands you more intimately than any other person possibly could… even if all that: Eddie is queer. Venom and Eddie are in a relationship. Any relationship Eddie ever enters into will automatically become a thrupple. He makes out with Venom in the movie! Eddie is queer.

(aw yeah that tongue is going down his throat)

Queer Rating: 9.5 out of 10, because it’s still coded by the creators in the language of bromance (hey, bro, is it gay if we’re physically and emotionally closer than any other people on earth?), but the movie is so, so camp and Mr Hardy’s acting choices are beautiful – the screaming? The lispy soft voice and lack of taking up space? The lobster tank? The only people who don’t know how queer this is are the people making it apparently. Fingers crossed for that sequel!

Hon. mentions:

Star Trek: Nemesis (2002): Star Trek – even at it’s worst (especially at its worst?) – is camp af + Hardy is a straight-up baby in this film.

Bronson (2008): It’s about a real person who’s still alive, so I won’t comment on the actual man. However the film seems to code the character Bronson along an ace line and also has genderqueering Vaudeville. Someone let Tom Hardy do more of whatever was going on in those stage-bits.

(this right here: this the good shit)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011): Another ensemble piece not massively about Hardy’s character, but it’s a movie that centers around queerness in a strange, depressing way. Tom Hardy’s character isn’t queer. Colin Firth and Mark Strong are though. The book makes me cry.

Peaky Blinders (2013-): Because it’s a TV series I left it out. There’s a lot of straight nonsense going on there, but Alfie Solomens is gay. There’s nothing in the series that disputes that and plenty that lends itself to the reading.

Dunkirk (2017): Tom Hardy plays an RAF pilot in a deep emotional connection with the other main RAF pilot. That’s immediately gay. However he’s not in the movie much because of the way it’s constructed, so I left it off.

Queer Ratings (least to most)

No queer to be found here traveller:

This Means War: 2 out of 10 - illegal movie, Tom Hardy swore he wouldn’t do another rom-com after

Locke: 2 out of 10 - straight Welshman and his straight problems. He pretty though

Lawless: 3 out of 10 - cardigan-Hardy being a mother-hen, but very straight for all that

The Dark Knight Rises: 3 out of 10 - a superhero movie that doesn’t deserve Mr Hardy’s camp talents (unlike Venom)

The Revenant: 3 out of 10 - doesn’t give me what I want out of a movie full of dirty, bearded men

Queer but we deserve more:

Legend: 5 out of 10 - timid homosexuality, considering the source material.

RocknRolla: 6 out of 10 - hey bro, is it gay if we kill the only female lead in our massive ensemble cast

The queerest of Hardy’s:

Inception: 7 out of 10 - Elliot Page and JGL kissing was an all-around terrible choice that made no sense, we know the truth, Nolan

Warrior: 8 out of 10 - I’m still crying, Edgerton’s crying, Hardy’s crying, we’re all crying, and I think that’s really emotionally healthy and queer of us

Mad Max: Fury Road: 9 out of 10 - non-romantic love in the time of BDSM post-apocalyptic wastelands is something that can actually be so personal

The Drop: 9 out of 10 - “Fucking punk. Go out to dinner dressed like you're still in you living room! You wear those big hippity-hoppity clown shoes! You speak to women terribly! You treat them despicably! You hurt harmless dogs that can't defend themselves! I'm tired of you man. I'm tired of you. You embarrass me!”

Venom: 9.5 out of 10 - Sometimes a relationship is an anxious reporter, the sentient goo inhabiting his body, his kinda-ex-girlfriend and her new doctor boyfriend, and I think that’s beautiful

#tom hardy #mad max: fury road #venom 2018 #inception #rocknrolla #warrior 2011 #legend 2015 #the drop 2014 #the revenant #the dark knight rises #lawless 2012 #locke #this means war

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fosermi · 3 years

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Okay so @winterpower98 wanted some fluff.

So in giving you guardian macaque wholesome young shadowpeach (friendship because they're still kids right now!)

So here it is!

.=.

On top of a mountain, stood a rock, a magical rock that formed an embryo by absorbing the essence of the heavens and earth. An embryo that turned into a golden monkey that would soon lead countless adventures and mishaps wherever he goes. This monkey was named “Sun Wukong”

Hidden at the base of a valley near a peaceful village, lay a log, a magical log that formed an embryo by absorbing the essence of the shadows and light. An embryo that turned into a black monkey that would soon be known as an antagonist to Sun Wukong’s adventures. This monkey was named “Liu Er MiHou”

Living two separate lives, in separate worlds. One as a beloved king, the other nothing but street scum.

"Hey come back here!! Thief!!" Called out an enraged man on the chase after a small hooded figure. The figure in question continued to run. He ran and ran until he reached the outskirts of the village where he lost the man.

The figure slowed in his pace as he looked around, chest rising and falling idly from exhaustion. rapidly. Quickly, the figure darted towards one of the boulders that lay around the village as a sort of border marker. He sat down behind one of the boulders and proceeded to unveil himself, mid-length dark hair, red face markings and 6 colorful ears. He looked around for a while before he pulled out a small plum, a plum he stole to feed himself.

It was rather hard trying to find proper food around these parts. Not even the local monkey population would come down from the mountains to find food in the village. There was plenty of food in the mountains, he knew that. But each food source would be guarded by a monkey tribe.

Oh if only he could join said tribes. Unfortunately, for his strange appearance, none of the tribes would take him in. and without a tribe, he wouldn’t be able to have access to the fruiting trees; he didn’t want to face a whole group of adult monkeys that could seriously injure him. He was lucky once, when a kind old woman would feed him as a kid when he barely managed to escape from one of the tribes that believed he was trespassing. However, she no longer came down to their meeting spot. Did she not care for him anymore? He didn’t know. Nor would he let that affect him, after all, no one wanted him. He was strange, different.

Smiling at his success of getting food for himself, he brought up the fruit to his mouth to take a bite. His ears twitched, hearing something in the distance. By the endless river? It seems so. Curiosity taking over, the black monkey walked over to where he heard the noise from. Oddly enough, it came from a cluster of coconuts hitting against one another due to the motions of the waves.

Walking closer, he noticed an odd color of gold in the midst of the dark brown of the coconuts. His tail flicked in caution as the black monkey approached the make-shift raft, spotting a stick that he could use to defend himself with if he had to.

Upon closer inspection, on top of the coconuts laid an unconscious monkey, similar to himself. Except the other monkey had a peach heart marking on his face and chest as well as golden fur that shone brightly in the sun. oh, and 4 less ears.

Was the golden monkey dead? He wasn’t sure, so he poked him with the stick.

‘He looks hungrier than I am…’ the black monkey thought as he continued to poke the other, earning a soft groan in response. ‘At least he isn’t dead…’

The six eared monkey’s ears then started to twitch again, the young smooth monkeys were coming, and if they found him or this other monkey they would be in trouble. He knew that these ones specifically were trouble, they would find whatever excuse to hurt innocent things. He didn’t like them.

Quickly, the black macaque dragged the other monkey off of the coconuts and into the bushes where he should be hidden from view as he distracted the smooth skinned away from the unconscious golden monkey. Unbeknownst to him that the latter had already woken up but was pretending to stay asleep.

All six of the log monkey’s ears lowered as he looked at the single plum in his hand. “I guess I won’t be eating today… you need it more than I do” was all he said before placing the plum into the palm of the other’s hand and jumping out of the bushes to distract the human children that arrived at the shore of the endless river.

“Hey! Hey! Look! It's that macaque with the colorful ears!” one shouted. “come on! Lets get him!” another declared.

And that was his que to run.

And run he did, all the while the stone monkey watched. The black monkey ran from the beach up into a nearby tree, only to be followed up onto the tree by the humans, each now carrying a big stick they found.

Seeing the sticks, the six eared macaque leaped from the tree onto the ground and continued to run. He ran, and ran, and ran. He didn't know for how long he ran, or how far he had gone, but eventually, he found a small hole under the roots of one of the bigger trees and dived down.

The humans had followed him, he knew that. He could hear them outside, trying to get through the protective layer of plant life that shielded him from the danger. All he could do was curl into a ball, at least that way he could have some form of protection from any blows that could end up being a problem.

A loud cracking noise caused the fur on his back to stand up, trying to intimidate the humans. However, he knew it to be futile as the human children continued to laugh and talk among themselves. He expected there to be pain soon, he was prepared for it.

But instead, a pained shout came from one of the boys. Followed by another, then another. As soon the smooth monkeys were running away in fear, some even crying and calling out for their mothers.

Hesitantly, the log monkey looked up to see what happened, and to his surprise, a hand outstretched with golden fur shining in the sunlight met him. The golden monkey saved him? Why? He didn’t understand. But he took the other’s hand anyway.

The golden monkey smiled and started to make some noise. Noises that the black monkey registered as monkey speech, a language he severely lacked understanding in but knew a few words.

Seeing the confusion on the six eared demon’s face, the golden monkey frowned and looked around for something to explain with, eventually finding a small stick. The stone monkey used the small stick to draw out a few figures that looked like the other in front of him. Another figure depicted a fruit of sorts, one that looked like a peach or a plum.

The golden monkey pointed at the figure of the plum and then at the figure of the other monkey - which, upon seeing it being drawn with six ears made the log monkey try to hide his own ears - then to himself as he rubbed his stomach as if saying ‘thank you for the food’, a gesture the black monkey understood and smiled at.

This was just the beginning. The beginning of one of the greatest friendships in history. Oh how will this turn out I wonder?

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid au #macaque #sun wukong #foserwrites

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some-days-we-get-sundays · 3 years

Text

Ryan, Sophie & Mary go to the beach.

“She gives you butterflies” - A Wildmoore fanfic

“Oh my GAWD, why is it so freakin hot!” Sophie whined. Sophie was lying on Mary and Ryan’s couch with her head on one end and her legs perched up on Ryan’s lap. Ryan had her head thrown back with her hand over her face and Mary was lying on her stomach on the floor and she had a cold rag draped over her neck.

“Well you could take you butt back to your own place, having one less body here would probably make it less hot.” Ryan shot Sophie a glance. And Sophie hit Ryan with a pillow. Ryan was too hot to retaliate.

“My place is just as hot and it has no trees or areas of shade! It’s not my fault the power went out all over town. And hey, you’re Batwoman, why don’t you go find what happened and fix it or something?” Mary rolled her eyes but didn’t look at Sophie and Ryan. She now understood that this was Ryan and Sophie’s way of flirting with each other. At first when they bickered like this and were mean to each other, she thought they really hated one another- and they probably did. But somewhere along the line they started to hate each other less and hang out more. But that didn’t stop the tension. Mary wanted to ask one of them what was going on but she also wasn’t so sure they themselves even understood it. So for now she was comfortable just letting them be annoyingly flirty and oblivious.

“I’ve got it!!” Mary exclaimed and sat up quickly. Glee on her face. Sophie and Ryan both turned their heads expectantly at Mary, waiting for whatever their genius doctor friend had to say.

“Swimming! We should totally go swimming!” Mary waited for Sophie and Ryan to leap with delight at her brilliant idea. That didn’t exactly happen. Ryan and Sophie silently communicated with each other through their eyes- something they started doing a lot lately. Mary patiently waited, watching the cute faces they were making at each other.

“Ok fine.” Ryan said. Mary had not heard any exchange but based on Ryan’s tone, Sophie thought the swimming was a great idea and Ryan did not. But Sophie had convinced Ryan to go along with it. Mary wouldn’t admit this out loud to anyone but she liked watching the dynamic between Ryan and Sophie. She would be jealous of their connection if she didn’t suspect the two had feelings for each other. While she sometimes felt like a 3rd wheel, she knew that what those two had was developing into something deeper than friendship. She sometimes wanted to get Alice in the same room and have her start psychoanalyzing the pair.

“Oh come on Ryan, this is gonna be fun. Beside it’s hot as hell, don’t you wanna get wet?” As soon as the words left Sophie’s mouth, Sophie felt her cheeks get warm. She prayed Ryan would let it go.

“You know what Soph, I do want to get wet, but there are other ways that I can make that happen.” Ryan smirked at Sophie and gave her a suggestive look. Then she replaced that look with her wide signature smile, the one she knew Sophie couldn’t resist. Sophie cracked a smile.

“Somebody needs to get fucked.” Sophie said.

“I’m not the only one.” Ryan shot back. Sophie’s eye brows raised.

“OKAY! Sophie, let’s stop by your place on the way there and you can grab your suit. They said power would be back on in a few hours so hopefully when we come back all our food isn’t rotten. Grab some snacks and water that you have. Ryan go grab your shit that you need from your room and I’ll get what I need.” Mary enjoyed Ryan and Sophie’s dynamic but she didn’t need to hear them making sex comments towards each other. She also didn’t need them to bone each other right in her presence. Maybe going to the beach with these two hormonal teenagers was not one of her more genius ideas after all.

Scene 2: The Beach++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Come on you slow asses!” Sophie called from the water. She apparently was a mermaid in her past life and she loved the water. Mary and Ryan were in a spot in the sand that was partially covered by shade.

“We’ll be down in a second!’ Mary shouted back at Sophie, then watched her dive under the water and then resurface, dive under, and resurface. The sun sparkled on the water around Sophie, and Mary lifted her eyes to look at the sky. It was a gorgeous day. Beside her, Ryan was putting on sunblock, pretending not to be interested in watching Sophie. Mary decided maybe now was a good time to just put the idea in Ryan’s head. Or at least show Ryan support. Ryan was a very proud person and her relationship with Sophie and the crows had been, rocky. To put it lightly. Even though Sophie was no longer with the crows, Mary knew how hard it was for Ryan to finally let Sophie in.

“You know, it’s alright if you like her.” Mary started off slowly, she didn’t want to piss Ryan off and make the whole day uncomfortable. Ryan visibly stiffened and then relaxed.

“Who?” Ryan went for acting like she didn’t know what or who Mary was referring to. Mary rolled her eyes.

‘Ryan, you are not that good of an actor first of all. Sophie found out you were Batwoman in point 5 seconds. So let’s leave the acting to Viola Davis, shall we?” Ryan didn’t say anything. Mary tried again.

“Sophie. Ryan, I’m talking about Sophie. It’s ok if you like her. You know like, like her like her.” Ryan was quiet for a second.

“I can’t like a crow Mary. Me and Soph are friends now and that’s it. Do I think she’s pretty, of course, I have eyes. But that would never work.” Ryan clapped the top onto the sunblock and stared out at Sophie. Ryan felt butterflies in her stomach and she absentmindedly put her hand over her belly. She didn’t realize Mary was watching.

“She gives you butterflies.” Mary stated matter-of-factly, she had followed Ryan’s gaze that was still trained on Sophie. They were quiet for a few moments and then Ryan looked at Mary.

“She gives me the whole damn zoo.” Ryan finally said. Mary laughed and shoulder bumped Ryan. “Tell her.” Mary said softly. Ryan gave Mary a, bitch are you serious, look.

“I’m not telling Sophie shit. It’s just a crush, besides I just ended things with Imani, it would be weird to just jump into another relationship. And she already was suspicious of me and Sophie.” Ryan sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Besides, a crow? Ew.”

“Kay, Sophie is not with the crows anymore, stop using that as an excuse. Second, Luke told me you hated having to keep your Bdub identity from Imani. Just think you wouldn’t have to hide that from Sophie because she already knows.”

“I already know what?” Sophie had walked up on the pair as they were deep in conversation and had lost Sophie among the sea of beach goers; they had not realized she’d gotten out of the water until she was in their face. Ryan changed the subject quickly.

“Um you already know that I can win in a foot race to the water.” Ryan knew that was a weak cover but she hoped Sophie would let it slide. She played on Sophie’s competitive side.

“Girl, now I know you’s a damn lie.” Sophie said. Ryan chuckled and she stood up.

“Ready set go!” Ryan counted off fast and took off running trying to get the advantage of starting off early. Sophie’s longer legs had no issue keeping up with Ryan. They got to the edge of the water and Sophie grabbed Ryan from behind and lifted her. Sophie spun them around and they both went crashing into the water. They wrestled and tussled for a bit. Touching each others mid sections playfully and letting fingers and hands roam and linger longer than what was appropriate for people who were just friends. Mary watched on from her spot in the sand with vivid fascination.

“You know I won, right?” Sophie said slightly out of breath from the running and then the rough housing. They were now wading a little over waist deep in the water. Sophie was half a foot taller than Ryan so the water wasn’t covering her as much. She shivered. Ryan instinctively reached out and put her hands on Sophie. She knew it would not warm her up but she wanted an excuse to touch her again. She started on Sophie’s arms and then put her hands on Sophie’s waist and slowly pulled her closer. It was weird being this close to Sophie, it felt intimate. But natural. Comfortable. Right. Sophie looked down into Ryan’s eyes with a bit of a question mark circling her orbs but she let Ryan continue. Ryan had these deep chocolate brown puppy dog eyes that Sophie could never get enough of and right now they were melting fires into Sophie’s own. She contemplated saying something, but she didn’t know what and she didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening between them. She thought that if she spoke that maybe this spell would be broken. Suddenly, Ryan pulled herself up slowly and kissed Sophie on her neck. It was one of the sexist kisses that Sophie had ever experienced. She buried her head into Ryan and felt Ryan’s soft wet lips kiss and suck and then give a little bat bite. Then it was over and Ryan pulled back. Sophie’s looked at Ryan, not sure of what was going to happen next. She let Ryan take the lead because she seemed determined.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Ryan simply said. And then she laughed and put her head against Sophie’s chest. Almost embarrassed now by her own bravado. Sophie wrapped her arms around Ryan and they stood there like that, holding each other. Not fully understanding the magnitude of the situation, but also not wanting to make a big deal or extravagant gestures and speeches. Suddenly they both got drenched with a huge wave. They looked around to see who the culprit was and their eyes landed on Mary who was smirking. They both splashed her back and they all screamed and shouted playfully, trying to see who could splash the other with the most water.

“I told you guys the beach would be littyyy,” Mary said cheerfully.

‘Yeah yeah.” Sophie and Ryan both said in unison.

“Oh also, I better not catch you two having sex on the couch.” Mary splashed Ryan and Sophie and then quickly dived under the water. Ryan and Sophie’s mouths hung open, and they slowly looked at one another, then back at Mary who was getting further away. Sophie thought she heard Ryan mutter, “can’t make any promises” as they raced to catch up with their friend.

#wildmoore #wildmoore fic #batwoman #sophie moore #ryan wilder #mary hamilton

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

10 Months - Chapter 4

9 months, 1 day

Matsuhana

CW- Angst, mentions of death

Chapter 1-3 on AO3

A/N: i think all the pieces are set now....

“Are you all caught up with My Hero?”

Matsukawa catches the bottle cap against the corner of his counter and, with the heel of his palm, slams down against it, hard enough to pop the cap off. It flies halfway across the room, clattering against the floor before sliding halfway under the fridge. As he walks by, sipping off the foam of his beer, he kicks it deeper into the unknown with the rest of the bottle caps. It would be a nice surprise for the next tenant: a private little collection of bottle caps stashed under every appliance.

"Nah, I'm a couple chapters behind," Mattsun replies as he leaves the kitchen, grabbing the remote along the way. "I'm surprised you're all caught up. Aren't you, I dunno, busy torturing athletes?"

"I have to be!" Iwaizumi groans, propping his feet up against the coffee table to bury himself further into the couch. He's still in his work clothes, the polo shirt struggling to stretch over his thick biceps as he buries his chopstick into the takeaway for another bite. "Bokuto spoils the new chapter for me every week!"

"That guy’s too excited for his own good." Mattsun takes a long swig and sucks air through his teeth, trying to savor the less than appealing flavor of IPA. It’s much too bitter, heavy enough that it sits in his stomach- but it does the job. "Sure you don't want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I have to be at the gym at 5am." Iwaizumi can barely rip his eyes off the screen long enough to pick out the mushrooms in his meal, placing them on a side plate, just like he does every week. As he flops down beside him, Mattsun unpauses the program and music fills the room.

Mattsun isn’t sure how this became a tradition, Wednesday night anime binging, but it was something he really looked forward to. It was a good break from the usual stress of the work week. They could just sit in silence for a couple hours, watch the anime they had recorded through the week, and relax; a rare treat for both of them.

The day sticks to him. It clogs his throat and makes every breath labored, every swallow thick. Usually, he can just ignore it, leave it in the corner of his mind to be lost to time.

But the coffin was so small.

Youth doesn't protect you. It gives you a fake shield of longevity, a shallow promise of tomorrow.

That little girl, face painted with a thick layer of makeup to make her cheeks seem rosy with live, probably had plans for the future, just like Makki does-

He tips the bottle back hard and takes a long drink. Iwa’s eyes meet his over the brown bottle before returning to the screen.

By the second episode and third beer, he’s feeling better. His brain can focus on the fuzzy numbness that pulses through his gums instead of how the parents today were his age, except they looked so much older, aged by tragedy -

Fuck.

He gets up mid-show to grab another. Iwaizumi doesn't look up, even when another bottle cap flies across the room.

The faux marble countertop is marred with multiple jagged chunks missing from the edge, cut all the way down to the wood. He wasn’t getting his security deposit back, but that was fine.

The alcohol must be hitting him already, Mattsun tells himself. That's the only reason his eyes kept wandering to where the hem of Iwa's shirt had ridden up, exposing just a whisper of skin and the middle of a happy trail. Sure, he had always known Iwaizumi to be an attractive guy, but the years of physical training certainly showed. Iwa wasn't his type, but he could definitely appreciate-

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Fuck. Mattsun shakes his head like a dog, trying to knock away whatever sort of nonsense was possessing him. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Mattsun traces the half circle mark that’s formed on his palm. "I saw Makki the other day," he admits, "We talked for a while."

"Wow, really?" Iwa has forgotten all about the show. He’s moved up to the edge of his sheet, looking at his friend with disbelief. "Didn't think that would ever happen."

"Yeah, me neither," Mattsun drapes himself over the counter, knocking over the empty plastic containers, "He looks like shit."

"Did he tell you?"

Iwa doesn't need to clarify.

"Yeah."

Iwa nods solemnly, nibbling on the end of his chopstick as he thinks about what to say. It’s no secret that Iwa and Makki had stayed friends since graduation, but it was definitely a subject that wasn’t discussed.

A splinter of wood is pressing against Mattsun’s stomach, piercing through his shirt, but he doesn’t stand up. Instead, he digs more of his weight against it. The sharpness of the pain detracts him from the guilt.

“It’s sad.” It’s the only thing Mattsun can think of. “Tragedy.”

Iwa and Mattsun's friendship was usually based on being quiet. They were always surrounded by louder personalities, people who demanded attention, so they usually just enjoyed shutting up with each other. Mattsun can't remember talking about anything of merit with Iwa. Ever.

And that's the way they liked it.

"I'm glad you hung out. I think he's been lonely since-" Iwa stops himself.

"Since what?"

"It's not my place to tell you, just…." he says, "It's been a pretty bad year for Maks. I bet he's glad you made up."

"Let's not go that far. We just talked."

He doesn't mention the planning. Something about it feels sacred between them.

A question nips at the back of his mind. He shouldn’t address it, but-

"Hey, did Makki ever talk to you about me? About why we fought?" Mattsun, pretending to watch the television, rests his head in his hands. His palms are slick with sweat, nervous about the answer.

"No," he can see from the corner of his eye that Iwa is still watching him and yet a wave of relief crashes over him, "Whenever it came up he told me it was 'Mattsun's story to tell'."

Good. The secrets are still safe.

"Maybe I'll tell it at his funeral," Mattsun raises his empty bottle in a fake toast, "Make a whole big speech about why the man of the hour hates my guts."

"Matsukawa! That's- that's not funny. What's wrong with you?" Iwa sneers, "I don't want to think about that."

He shrugs. "Me neither."

The early morning is still painted black, the sun still tucked away behind the city’s skyline. The only light that peers into the room is from under the door, a low glow that creeps all the way from the kitchen. If he listens, Mattsun can almost make out the voices of Makki’s parents, keeping their voices low so as to not wake the rest of the house. From his place on the floor, nestled in a lumpy, half stuffed futon, Mattsun stares at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars had long lost their color, but he could still make out their borders. If he really focused, he could ignore that strangling tightness in his chest-

night

"Issei." Makki's voice cuts through the silence, groggy, "You awake?"

“Yeah.” he sighs, "Can't sleep."

"That futon sucks," Makki shuffles in his sheets before peering over the edge of his bed. Strange planes of his face are illuminated but the low light, and yet that tightness in his chest only gets worse. Sleepovers weren’t uncommon- in fact, they did them almost every night before a game, so they could make it to school together- but lately they were changing. More awkward pauses, more knees brushing against each other under the table as they did homework together, more quick turns away when the other was changing.

"Sucks major dick." Mattsun agrees.

Maybe all friendships go through this.

"Just sleep up here. We've slept closer on-"

Mattsun doesn’t let him finish justifying himself. He gets up, toting his pillow under his arm, and stands at the edge of the bed where Makki lays. The eagerness of his actions are so embarrassing, but that doesn’t slow him. Under the covers, Makki’s form was just a long, misshapen lump.

This is what friends do.

"Move over."

Friends sleep next to each other sometimes.

"This is my side."

"I'm not crawling over you- move over."

"Or what?” Makki teases under his breath, quiet enough not to be heard in the hall.

"Or I'm going to sleep on top of you."

"You wouldn't dare." He says it like an invite, with a smile.

Friends joke around like this.

Mattsun lifts his knee onto the raised part of the blanket, accidentally (accidentally?) separating Makki's legs. Time seems to stretch as he lowers himself down onto his elbows, giving Makki every chance to protest, but the blonde just watches with wide eyes and parted lips. He uses a melon flavored chapstick during the day. Does the flavor linger?

Chest against chest, so close yet parted by layers of fabric. Makki lets out a groan when the weight finally fully drops. It's an innocent sound, just a protest, but suddenly Mattsun is thankful for the space between them because he hides the way his body shutters.

This must be what a stroke feels like. Pressure builds behind his face, like his brain can't process everything happening right now.

Friends do this. Friends rough house, friends sleep.

“Would you still be my friend if I do something stupid?" Makki interrupts his thoughts with a hand. It hovers inches away from Mattsun's cheek, cupping the air. His fingers are trembling and Mattsun thinks, despite his confident grin, Makki might be nervous.

“How stupid?” Mattsun’s voice cracks, despite how low he keeps it. His face would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand if he were to just gather the courage to close the gap. He tries to repeat to himself, friends, friends, friends, but there’s a louder voice in the base of his head that asks for more, more, more.

“Like, actually stupid.”

Mattsun closes his eyes with a deep breath and headbutts Makki’s hand. The trajectory is off, his chin barely scrapes by his fingertips, but the touch is cool against his blushing skin, so cool that it burns into his memory. “I’ll always be your friend, even if you’re stupid.”

His left leg is halfway off of the bed, dangling there, but he doesn’t dare move. Makki’s trying his best to shift under his weight, pressing up onto his other elbow in sudden, jerking movements. Nothing happens for a moment and Mattsun worries he’s misread the situation, that the electricity in the air was all in his mind.

Then, so gently that he thinks it’s his imagination, breath tickles his nose right before lips meet his. Neither of them move at first, but waiting for a protest-

Friends don’t do this.

Makki doesn’t taste like melon, he tastes like sleep. The drag of his stubble against his chin is rough, so harsh compared to the plush softness of his lips, but he wants to feel more of it- feel it against his entire face, his neck, his chest-.

Excitement takes over. As he tries to deepen the kiss, teeth clash against teeth. Makki flops back down, holding his mouth.

“Ow, what the fuck-”

“Sorry- I’ve never-”

Makki runs his tongue over his front teeth, checking for any chips. “You suck at this.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“It’s fine,” His hand is pressed against the small of Mattsun’s back. His fingers are thick, yet long, the span of his hand taking up nearly half of his back. “We can practice.”

“I’m fine.” His voice is flat, far too blunt.

He doesn’t turn to face Mitsuri as he gathers himself, heartbeat still racing right under the skin, but he arches away from her touch. The bare skin of her thigh rubs against the back of his and he has to swallow back his sneer.

“You sure? I-”

“‘Kawa, sweetie.” a small hand, curled into a ball, is pressed into the center of his back when he jolts awake. “You’re talking in your sleep- are you okay?”

“Positive.”

“Oh,” she swallows. “I love you.” Dejection clings to her voice as she withdrawals back to her own side.

He doesn’t respond.

“I said I love you.” she repeats.

“Love you too.” he says, out of obligation more than anything.

What kind of monster wouldn't tell his fiance that he loved her?

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softsebnbuckystan · 3 years

Text

Soul ties - Part 13/Finale (Bucky Barnes au)

“I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time”

Soul ties playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/054hHxpYJ2rIluevfSaGRK?si=w1JkdfFwTjuXZMegQd9WHw

Waking up from your first night with Bucky was a feeling you would make sure you'd never forget. You knew he didn't get much sleep : you'd only been to his room once, but you'd noticed the single blanket on the floor, which somehow reminded you of Steve's bed in the early years of your friendship.

"You didn't even move," you said as you woke up with his arm around you. "I feel bad I kept you in an uncomfortable position."

"Don't. I couldn't wake you up for anything in the world," he joked. "Even when you snored."

"Lord, take me out of this misery," you complained as you got up from your bed, escaping Bucky's embrace. "You were joking, right?"

He grinned and shook his head no. Damn. You ran your brush through your hair and picked up your phone on your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Checking your messages, you noticed a text from Steve.

"Tony dropped off some papers for you. Didn't want to wake you guys up."

Your heart jumped as you realised what papers Steve was talking about. Divorce papers. You rinsed your mouth, put on some jeans and a T-shirt before telling Bucky about the special delivery.

"All I have to do is sign them, then drop them off at Darren's," you explained. "Best case scenario : he signs them right away and I get to go back with them."

Bucky was already seated and he was getting ready to go change as well. "And worst case scenario would be...?"

"He doesn't sign them at all, and I have to go through the court system," – you sighed – "which I really don't want to."

"It's not gonna happen," he assured you. "I'm coming with you to make sure of it."

"You don't have to do that, you know?"

"I want to."

You slowly sat on his lap, wrapping your hands around his neck. "I'm a really lucky woman." You couldn't help but smile before kissing him quickly. "Okay. I gotta go read and sign those papers. If you want to make some coffee while I do so..."

"Oh, I see, already taking advantage of my soft spot for you," he said. "I didn't think-"

"So you have a soft spot for me, huh?" you teased, a nervous laugh escaping your mouth.

"Did I say that?"

"Maybe. I guess we're even, then. Soft spots for each other sounds good."

You got up and put on your shoes.

"It does," he agreed. "Alright, I gotta make some coffee now."

---

"I didn't think I'd see you this soon."

"Well, I'm full of surprises," you snapped at your future ex-husband as you handed him a small stack of paper. "I need you to sign this."

Darren's eyes kept going from you and Bucky to the papers. He grabbed the divorce agreement hesitantly and read the title.

"What if I don't?"

"You will."

Bucky's low and stern voice had unsettled your interlocutor so bad he opened his mouth without saying anything.

"If you don't mind, we'll come in and make sure you sign these," you said as you made your way through the hallway of the building. "I also have some stuff I want back."

"Fine," Darren agreed grudgingly. "It's not like I have a choice anyway. I don't want your new pet boyfriend to attack me."

"He's not-"

"Let him," Bucky told you. "Please, let him give me an easy excuse to do it."

You held back a laugh : you knew Bucky didn't want to be involved in a meaningless fight. On the other hand, letting Darren believe this was a possibility seemed like a fun taste of payback.

"C'mon, Buck. He's not worth the trouble."

You grabbed his hand as you preceded Darren in the staircase that led to your former apartment. You took him to the bedroom you and Darren once shared ; you could see his face changing at the sight of the bed and decoration that still bore your mark.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

"Sure."

You got away from the wardrobe you were about to open and walked up to him.

"No you're not. Talk to me," you said as you stroked his cheek.

"This room is filled with memories," he whispered. "Memories that are his."

"And that's all he's got," you retorted. "Memories. That's the only thing he can cling to from now on, assuming that even means something to him."

"But it means something to you, and I don't want you to erase all that," he confessed.

"Bucky... I'm not erasing anything," you promised, knowing how hard it was for him to think he was stripping someone from their memories. "Life is about learning. If I hadn't been married to him in the first place, I probably wouldn't have met you. See? Learning from past experiences is not erasing said experiences. I know you're feeling like the bad guy here, but you're not."

"He looks miserable. That's kinda my fault."

"You didn't let me blame myself for this, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you blame yourself either."

You smiled and kissed him on the cheek before going back to the wardrobe. Grabbing a bag and filling it with your remaining clothes didn't feel as heavy as it did when you'd last been here. Your chest felt ten times lighter, and you were convinced Bucky's presence had something to do with it.

"I'm good," you said. "Those are the only things I couldn't bring last time."

You left the bedroom and found Darren sitting at the kitchen table, his pen hovering over the divorce agreement.

"Could you get done with this already?" you asked softly. "I'm kind of in a hurry."

"You're so eager to leave me, aren't you?" Darren scoffed. "I thought..."

"What?"

"I thought you could make this work for us."

You let out a long, disappointed sight. "The very fact you think it's my job and mine only to make this marriage work is another sign of why it didn't," you pointed out. "I shouldn't have lied to you about my tattoo in the first place," you admitted, "but the way you treated me all those years was far from right."

"But I was good to you."

"No, you weren't."

Darren lowered his eyes and signed the final page. With a single hand, he slid the agreement towards you.

"Thank you," you told him. "I'm glad we could end this the nice way."

"It's really over, huh? You're just gonna leave with a guy you've known for a couple of months."

For once, there was no animosity in his voice. He sounded resigned more than he sounded sad.

"Yes. I might not have known Bucky for long, but he treated me the way I know I deserve. I'm not sorry you couldn't be that person, because there is someone out there waiting to meet you as well."

"Yeah, maybe."

You picked up the papers and went for the door, Bucky following you.

"Goodbye, Darren."

You didn't get an answer, as you'd expected. You went down the stairs silently and dropped your bag on the backseat of the car before sitting behind the wheel. Bucky sat in the passenger's seat, unsure of what he should say.

"Thanks for coming along," you ended up saying. "I think it helped me stay calm."

Bucky squeezed your knee gently as you started the engine : his hand didn't leave your leg for the rest of the trip, and you'd never been more thankful for automatic cars.

---

"Surprise," Natasha told you as she greeted you with a glass of champagne. "Steve told me the news."

"What is it we're celebrating, exactly?" you asked with a chuckle.

"Your divorce, of course! I couldn't make it to the wedding, might as well celebrate its ending."

"I'm-, oh god." Keeping things serious was impossible and the light-hearted feeling in your chest resurfaced. You thought you'd feel more guilt over divorcing Darren, but you knew now that it was the best thing to do.

Bucky laid a hand on your waist even though there were a few people around, and Nat handed him a glass as well. Wanda, Steve and Sam ended up drinking with you, and even Tony made an appearance. Laughing, talking and chilling with your family felt like an enormous relief after the past few weeks. Despite your surroundings, Bucky's hand couldn't seem to leave your body : your shoulder, thigh or arm or even your back... Maybe you weren't the only one who felt freed by signing those papers. You stayed up late that night, and Natasha was the last one to leave.

"Big day, huh?"

You nodded and snuggled up to Bucky on the couch. "About what you said earlier-"

"It's okay," he said. "I just...you have memories with him. I cannot pretend they don't exist, and-"

"Don't. They're not relevant," you said, cutting him off before cupping his face. "It's you and me now, Buck. Every moment in my life, every choice I ever made led me to you. So yeah, Darren and I share memories. Some of them are good. Some aren't. So what? You and I will make new ones, and that's what matters to me."

You pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

"I'm in love with you," you confessed. "I'm in love with you and I've never felt it this strong, ever, and it's scary but it's also the most exciting thing-"

His lips crashing on yours interrupted your whole speech. His hand found the skin on your waist as he laid you down on the couch and kissed you with passion, enjoying the fact that the room was all yours. He pulled back, leaving you out of breath. He got up abruptly and extended his hand, grabbing yours and putting you back on your feet. Pulling you into a tight hug, he kissed your cheek and your neck.

"I love you," he whispered in your ear.

"I love you too," you said. You grabbed his hand on your waist and led him through the compound. You stopped in front of his bedroom and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his nose. "Let's go make new memories now."

the end.

---

this is officially it guys, soul ties is a finished story! sorry the finale took so long to be posted but i've barely had time for myself with exams coming soon. i hope this story made its way to your heart like it did mine. :)

tag list : @ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02 @writehistorynotthegrocerylist @bluemoon-icecream @lady-loki-ren @simplybombshell @lizajane3 @livingonkpop @kaitieskidmore1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #tfatws #catws #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #self insert #x you #x y/n #fluff #soulmates

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

Text

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.4)

Chapter Four: The Train Ride There

1k+ Words a lot of it is taken from the book but as always I added a lot of [Name] in to make it.... chaotic and slightly angsty

Still uses he/him pronouns for now and later addition of they pronouns will be announced before the chapter. Hope you Enjoy!!!

Last // Next

“What the actual hell- Ow, heck i meant heck.” [Name] choked out while rubbing the back of his head

“Mhm sure you did”

“Anyway you mean to tell me I have to run at a wall.”

“Yup”

“In a muggle train station”

“Yes”

“In the middle of the day?”

“Look, do you want to go to Hogwarts or not?”

“I mean I do but-”

“If you don’t you’ll only disappoint Harry” [Mother’s name] interrupted

[Name] hesitated before responding “I’m sure he’ll be fine he like defeated an evil lord as a baby of course he can run at a wall and make other friends”

“[Name] if you miss the train I’m not taking you to school myself”

And just as [Name] seemed like he’d be okay with that aspect (anything to not embarrass himself in public really) all his hopes were completely crushed

“And I’m not taking you back home to ride on the house elf express”

“Okay but if I die or embarass myself I’m gonna have to find a way to jinx you or something. Maybe i’ll tell that weird muggle mailman you find him cute and force you to flee the country”

“You wouldn’t”

“That’s what you think”

[Name] seemed to gather the courage of all his ancestors (may they rest in peace) and ran straight at the obvious death trap. He had a chosen one to meet after all. He closed his eyes right before impact only to have his senses assaulted by the sounds and sights of something completely unexpected

‘Wow' he whispered under his breath

“I told you so”

“Alright alright I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. But I mean you’re not exactly the most trustworthy. If I needed someone to help me cover up a crime maybe, but a prank that could end in bodily harm..”

[Mo. Name] pretended not to hear a word as she fussed over [Name], the train departing soon. She’s a mother, she couldn’t help it. After running down a long list of things [Name] should have (And did) pack in his trunk she gave a forehead kiss and pushed him off to the trains. As he got on she did the unthinkable.

“Bye baby!! Momma loves you. Tell Peeves I said Hi’

Yeah [Name] definitely wasn't gonna be popular now. At least… not in a good way. There’d be rumors around hogwarts. And he’d be in the center of them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry sat alone in an empty compartment after all the hustle and bustle that came with parents seeing their children off for the first time. And could’ve sworn he had heard someone say something about being peeved. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when the door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red headed boy he had seen earlier came in.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

“Hey, Ron”

The twins were back

“Listen we’re going down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” mumbled Ron.

“Harry,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later then.”

“Bye” said Harry and Ron. the twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

“Are you really Harry potter?” Ron blurted out

Harry went to nod but the compartment door slammed open once again

“Harry there you are. Thank God I found you.” [Name] gasped out “My mother totally embarrassed me as I was getting on the train screaming about someone named Peeves and she called me BABY. Anyway I’ve been trying to find you without drawing to much attention to you or myself.”

Harry had wondered how [Name] had said so much in one breath. He didn’t know [Name] to be particularly talkative. He of course had his moments when he’d stand up for someone but Harry had always seen name as a little bit of a worrier or an outsider like himself.

“Sorry." [Name] said almost as if he read Harry’s mind “It’s the nerves. I’m super glad that you’re not alone but I’m also jealous I didn’t get to you first.” [Name] continued as he moved to sit next to Harry.

“What were we talking about? Oh yeah he was asking about your chosen one status which is kind of cool and lame at the same time. Is that offensive?”

“Have you really got - you know?” He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. And surprisingly [Name] did too.

“Y’know as close as we are for two people who only met twice, I realized I haven’t gotten a good look at you Harry.” [Name] realized turning all of his attention on the resident Chosen One

Harry and [Name] stared at each other for a moment. [Name] was curious as to who the boy who lived really was and why he was drawn to him. It was like they were meant to meet up. At the Zoo, in Diagon Alley and now hopefully they would remain on the same path at Hogwarts too.

Harry on the other hand was staring at [Name] in appreciation. They were strangers, yet [Name] came to Harry’s rescue so naturally. Ron was to be a good friend to Harry, he’s sure of it, but it was different with [Name]. Their friendship wasn’t founded on titles, or reputations, or anything but mutual respect and destiny perhaps? If he were more naïve he might’ve attributed this feeling to a crush.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who-? Ron interrupted the staring contest

“Yes” said Harry “but I can’t remember it”

“Nothing?” Ron said eagerly.

“Well- I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.

[Name] got incredibly bored of the topic, not really keen on discussing Voldemort’s attack on Harry so he began looking out the window like the main character. Only catching flashes of the conversation and adding his own commentary when appropriate. Apparently Ron had 5 brothers and a little bit of “a lot to live up to” but being friends with the chosen one was sure to give him some stories to tell..

[Name] didn’t interrupt with much about his family because he’d already talked about his embarrassing mother and there was nothing else to talk about but his incredibly large and empty house which would have made him a little uncomfortable and slightly awkward. Y’know since he was talking to an orphan and a poor kid with a huge family. How could either of them relate?

What he did however pay attention to was Harry’s bravery and generosity. Apparently he was only a little bit of an oblivious idiot. Sure he proudly said Voldemort’s name (a trend [Name] hoped to follow) but he was smart enough to realized in the wizarding world at least he was rich and could splurge a little bit on the less fortunate *ahem* Ron *ahem*

“Go on, have a pasty” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten.)

“What are these?” Harry asked Ron and [Name] holding up a pack of chocolate frogs. “They’re not really frogs, are they/” He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him

“No” said Ron “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa”

“He has no idea what you’re talking about, look at his face” [Name] laughed out. Ron followed his line of sight and chuckled at Harry’s confused face as well.

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know - Chocolate frogs have cards inside them, you know to collect - famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

Both Harry and [Name] removed the cards from the chocolate frogs. Harry got Dumbledore which set his curiosity aflame once again. [Name] kept his a secret for dramatic effect of course. After answering his questions Ron asked for a chocolate frog as well only to get Morgana.

“Well Ron” [name] started “if you show me a trick, I’ll give you this” flipping over the card Ron’s eyes went wide at the sight of a Ptolemy card.

After a long conversation about the dangers of eating Bertie's ever flavored beans (which [name] would never even touch) Ron eventually worked up the courage to perform a spell when the toadless boy from earlier appeared, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wan in his hand.

‘Oh god.’ [name] said to himself as the girl’s thoughts assaulted him and drowned out the obvious awkward silence in the car ‘this girl may have redeeming qualities, or at least I’m hoping she does but she needs to get over herself’

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback

“Er- alright” he cleared his throat

“Sunshine daises, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow”

He waved his wand but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Said the girl. “Well it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but…

[Name] having heard most of this speech in his head already tried to tune her out and gave a snort at the end of her rambling when Harry and Ron looked at each other incredulously. Only a little offended when he heard Harry's comparison of Hermione to the nervous [Name] earlier

They all introduced themselves but Harry’s introduction led her on another tangent about him not looking himself up as if this was a common thing to do?? Then she asked what houses they thought they’d be in before leaving, taking the toadless boy with her. Poor Neville.

“Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it”

“I doubt we’ll be in the same house Ron” [Name] realized “you’ll probably be in whatever house your brothers are in”

“Gryffindor” Ron spoke up

“Right, and Harry will probably be with you where as I’ll end up in Slytherin probably”

The car went silent a bit before [name] spoke up again “I know what you’re thinking. Literally. I never had a Ptolemy card. I only said that because I wanted to show off my powers as a legilimens. I can see into your mind basically and I made you see what I wanted you to see. Don’t worry though I won’t like brainwash you or anything. Wouldn’t want to be a typical Slytherin and end up a dark wizard.

[Name] got ready to flee the cart after that whole speech and he could tell Ron felt kind of guilty but [Name] couldn’t risk Harry hating him. He was going to the house that produced Voldemort after all. He rushed out of the cart as some blond entered probably because Hermione had spread the rumor about seeing the chosen one.

Before [Name] knew it he was facing his newest worst enemy. The sorting hat.

#the rumor around hogwarts #hp x male reader #male reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x nonbinary reader #harry potter x male reader #harry potter x reader #that bi bitch writes #non binary reader #nonbinary reader insert #reader insert

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neocityarchive · 4 years

Text

blind love | l.m.k.

— in which mark lee is so much more than just your best friend but you were too blind to realize it.

word count: 7.2k | warnings: light swearing | blind love - lola young |

a/n: i didnt mean for it to be this long but i hope you enjoy!!!

“Just friends,” Mark said, his voice still steady even in the growing tension of the moment. “That’s all you said we are, right?”

Your head dropped down to look at your hands, not knowing what to say. The overbearing guilt of rejecting his sudden confession was crushing your chest that it became painful to breathe.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” was all you could say. You forced yourself to meet his gaze through your already glassy eyes, wanting to let him know the sincerity of your words.

He smiled kindly, shaking his head. There was sadness in his eyes. And in all the years you two have known each other, you could tell how hard he was trying to hide it. “It’s okay. That’s all we’ll be.”

You bumped your head repeatedly against your study table in an attempt to rid yourself of the memory that’s constantly been playing in your head.

It was a Sunday which meant there were no classes, which meant the university was closed, which meant that you couldn’t even make an excuse to see your best friend Mark who somehow, after almost three years of friendship, suddenly decided that it was a good idea to tell you he loves you more than a friend should love a friend.

You couldn’t say it happened out of nowhere. He’s been saying he has something important to tell you for almost two weeks before the incident but every time you confront him about it, he always makes up some lame excuse to dodge. It took a lot of self-hate for yourself and a nice amount of his protective instinct to finally make him spit it out.

He came to your apartment that night, finding you barefaced, wearing a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies that you stole some time ago. From that he already knew you weren’t okay. You like wearing his stuff to seek some sort of comfort. Somehow, the smell of his clothes helps calm you down.

You were supposed to help him finish a report but you couldn’t concentrate after getting a below satisfactory grade on a major exam. College has done nothing but give you a shitload of insecurities lately and this just pushed you off the edge. The only thing that has been keeping you sane was the knowledge that you had someone who you can run to at the end of the day. Someone who is willing to listen to your rants and would do almost anything to cheer you up.

That day, however, none of Mark’s usual encouragement worked on you. He was getting frustrated hearing you downplay yourself because of a single exam. You started going on about how stupid you felt, how staying up all night to study did nothing but make you ugly. Mark countered every insult you threw at yourself, throwing in a few jokes here and there, all of which you ignored. But when you went on about how all of this made you unworthy of anything, how no one could possibly love you in this state, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I love you,” he snapped, cutting you off from your long self-deprecating speech.

“You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to say that,” you whined, clearly missing the point.

Mark, on the other hand, was barely holding it all inside. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “No, idiot. I love you. Stop saying no one could love you, because I do. And not just because you’re my best friend.”

It wasn’t until you noticed his hands were quivering that you realized what he really meant. Looking back on it, you couldn’t help but hate yourself. You were sure it took a lot of his courage (and frustration) to come clean to you like that, and you couldn’t even take him seriously at first.

“Mark, no,” you remember telling him.

“I do. I hate that I do, but I do.” He looked away. “I love you and I know you’re feeling burdened right now, but you don’t have to say it back.”

A part of you broke that day. You hated rejecting people after having gone through several rejections yourself. It’s the worst feeling. You always wished there was a way you could always return people’s feelings just so no one would get hurt, but the universe just doesn’t work that way.

You muttered about a hundred sorries to which Mark replied a hundred ‘it’s okay’s. Maybe it was meant to make you feel better, but it just felt like your heart was getting ripped off your chest.

Mark didn’t stay long after that. You didn’t even get to help him with his report. He said sorry for suddenly dropping the L-word and you said sorry for not being able to say it back. He smiled sadly and it took your everything not to cry. He asked if he could hug you and you didn’t even answer. You just went straight into his arms, burying your head in his chest like you’ve done so many times before, breathing heavily to keep yourself from breaking down. And when the two of you pulled away, he insisted on being alone for a while. You said okay followed by another sorry.

You didn’t know “being alone for a while” meant ignoring you for god knows how long. You see him at uni but he wouldn’t even meet your eye. Even when you share the same class, he would choose to sit as far from you as possible. Once, he entered a cafe you were in and upon seeing you inside, he immediately turned around and walked away.

He’s ignoring you and he isn’t even being subtle about it. Mark Lee could never be subtle about anything, not even his feelings. You really were just too blind to realize anything.

Even other people saw how he felt. People used to come up to you all the time and ask about your “boyfriend” Mark. Sure, you would blush, shy that people thought you’re in a relationship with your best friend. When you explain that you weren’t actually dating, you would get the same shocked reaction every time. One of your friends even said you acted more like a couple than most people in a relationship do. You always thought it was just because you and Mark were such good friends.

“Friends don’t hold hands in public,” you remember Renjun saying.

“We don’t hold hands. He just grabs me and drags me to places,” you said defensively.

“And they don’t hug each other and stare at each other’s eyes while talking about pizza,” Jaemin scoffed.

You just rolled your eyes at them. It never crossed your mind that maybe they were right. You and Mark have never acted like how friends should. Maybe it’s the reason why you’re in this mess after all.

You sighed to yourself. You miss him. You can’t even pretend that you don’t. He’s become such a huge part of your everyday life that you couldn’t just ignore the sudden empty space he left when he said he wanted to be alone. You know he needed time to be by himself. But a part of you keeps holding on to his promise that even after his confession, you two would still be friends. And friends text each other, right? So all your attempts at communication depended on just that.

Thursday, 5:31 PM

You: wanna go watch a movie? i’ll buy the tickets.

Mark: cant. i have an exam tomorrow. sorry :/ maybe next time?

You: oh. okay. goodluck on your exam :)

Friday, 2:21 AM

You: [photo] this is possibly the cutest cat photo i’ve seen in awhile

Mark: that’s cute but dogs are still cuter

You: … okay?

Mark: go to sleep, y/n

Friday, 12:03 PM

You: i know you dont have class rn. have lunch w me?

Mark: oh i already ate with jaemin. sorry!!

You: it’s okayyyy :>> i’ll see u later? it’s friday night sooo we can hang out.

Mark: idk the boys already asked me to go out tonight

You: oh okay have fun!

Saturday, 6:54 PM

You: maaaark

Mark: y/nnn

You: [types] i miss you kajdhfhdksjdh [deletes]

You: nothing haha wanna grab some coffee?

Saturday, 7:01 PM

You: nvm haha have a nice nighhhttt

Sunday, 10:21 PM

You: hey can we talk

Mark: ???

You: please?

Mark: ye what about?

You: you said we’d still be friends

Mark: lol aren’t we?

You: this isn’t how friends talk to each other. i miss having an actual conversation with you.

You: we dont even see each other anymore.

Mark: i literally reply more to u than i do to jaem wdym haha

You: wow fine okay

Mark: ?????

You: i guess i deserve that haha

Mark: im tired y/n. night.

You: :( nighttt

You checked your messages for the nth time, reading everything as if something was gonna miraculously change with the cold conversation thread. Your fingers have been hovering over the keypad, typing and deleting ‘i miss you’ and ‘talk to me’ for about a hundred times already.

You don’t get why you can’t just say it. What’s so wrong with telling your best friend you miss him? Why is it so hard to press send? Why are you suddenly so afraid of how he would reply or if he would even reply at all?

It was only 10:30 in the evening. You know for sure Mark is only lying about going to sleep. He never sleeps this early unless he really is tired. He does nothing on Sundays so he can’t possibly be tired. Sundays are usually just the two of you hanging out in his apartment or yours, just to watch movies or study together. So what did he do today?

“Stop thinking about him,” you grumbled to yourself. “It’s just Mark. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

But that’s not the point, a voice inside your head said. Just tell him you miss him.

You typed it again, ‘I miss you,’ but deleted it as soon as it was finished. Again.

You’ve spent everyday with Mark that it suddenly hurts to think he’s enjoying the time you usually spend together alone. It’s crazy how you can’t stop thinking about how his day went or if he’s okay or whether he’s eaten or not. You know how stubborn he can be. Sometimes, he’d get so engulfed in whatever he’s doing that he would accidentally skip meals unless you remind him otherwise.

“Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself. You figured you won’t ever be left at peace if you don’t do anything about whatever you’re feeling, so you decided to text Jaemin.

Sunday, 10:52 PM

You: jaeeem hi :)

Jaemin: y/n!!!!! hello :>

You: sorry for bothering you but have you talked to mark lately?

Jaemin: im talking to him rn haha why? you want me to ask him something?

You: not really hahaha how is he?

Jaemin: haha why not ask him yourself

You: he doesnt wanna talk to me lol pls just answer

Jaemin: he’s stubborn as always. he wont listen to me.

You: why, what’s he doing?

Jaemin: idk but it’s definitely not talking to you ksjdjkd

You: … very funny

Jaemin: sorry lmaooo he’s running on an hour or two of sleep everyday

You: jaemin!! why won’t you scold him?

Jaemin: we do! he just doesn’t listen. u know he only listens to you.

Jaemin: idk why you guys still arent together lmao bunch of idiots tbh

You: we’re just friends

Jaemin: rlly? oh btw mark hyung is looking for his save the bees shirt. did u see it anywhere?

You: yeah he left it here like two weeks ago when he slept over

Jaemin: LMAOOO DOESNT SOUND LIKE FRIENDS TO ME CHIEF

You: i fckingskjfhfn hate you

Jaemin: HJSJSHHDJD ok but seriously tho mark hyung is fine. just give him time, he’ll come around.

Jaemin: he misses you but u didnt hear it from me

Jaemin: ok bye he’s getting suspicious now lol

You: idk how you’re both an angel and the devil at the same time

You: anw thanks jaem. dont tell him i asked about him lol byeee

You sighed, putting your phone down in surrender. Your mind was more of a mess now than it was before you talked to Jaemin. You hate that he makes sense especially about the weird, more-than-friendly dynamics of your relationship with Mark. But more importantly, your head was beginning to be overfilled with worry.

Mark runs on barely two hours of sleep everyday. No wonder he always looks so out of it whenever you see him in the hallway. You wanted to call him, to tell him that he should sleep already, to remind him that he shouldn’t overwork himself, that doing just enough is okay. But you know he doesn’t want to talk to you. The cold replies and the ‘????’ were more than enough to tell you that.

Still, you figured it was worth a try sending him a little reminder. So you grabbed your phone once again and typed a message, revealing a little more of your emotions than you intended to. And before you could even think twice about it, you hit send.

Sunday, 11:04 PM

You: hey i know you’re still not asleep. dont worry, you dont have to reply to me. i just wanna tell you that you should take care of yourself. i know you. you’re stubborn and sometimes you won’t sleep or eat unless someone reminds you to so,, this is me reminding you haha. stop overworking yourself mark, please? you cant be sick cause i cant take care of you since you wont talk to me… lol jk. but seriously, get more rest (and talk to me,, hahah jk again unless u wanna ;)) please go to sleep now. goodnight. see you around i guess.

You stopped texting Mark after that. You wondered if he would find the initiative to talk to you first if you didn’t start the conversation. Now, two days have passed and your sleep reminder remains to be the last message on your conversation thread. You couldn’t say it didn’t hurt. You were hoping for at least a small thanks but didn’t get anything at all.

You were starting to get more and more frustrated as the days went by. It’s so unfair that you are slowly losing your best friend because of this. It’s unfair that you can’t even be mad at him because you just broke his heart. You wished there was any way you could have changed what happened, but the past remains to be written.

That afternoon, you passed by one of the cafes you and Mark always go to. You went inside, suddenly craving their special banana muffin which he introduced to you some months ago. The owner recognized you right away as you came up to the cashier.

“You’re not with your boyfriend today?” she asked.

You felt your heart skip a beat and not in a good way. It hurt. You figured there was no use in explaining since she probably won’t believe that Mark is not your boyfriend so you just smiled sadly and answered, “No.”

The lady somehow talked you into buying two muffins so you can bring one to your “boyfriend.” After handing her your payment, you realized maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Mark always brings you stuff whenever you’re mad or upset. He knows exactly what you’re craving for even before you knew you were craving for it. Why not try if it works on him?

As soon as you headed out the cafe, you whipped your phone out to text Jaemin, asking if he knew where Mark was. It’s Tuesday, his most free day of the week so he could be anywhere. Jaemin replied not after five minutes.

Jaemin: not sure but he mentioned something about the library??

You: okay thank you!

From that, you knew exactly where Mark is. There was a small patio-like spot beside the library that he likes going to. Not a lot of people utilize the place since the tables and chairs are almost always filled with dried fallen leaves from the surrounding trees but Mark likes the thought of being close to nature.

That day though, there were more people around the area than usual. It was lunchtime so most people were out of the classrooms. Still, it wasn’t hard spotting Mark. It has never been much of a challenge finding him in a crowd of people. You saw him as soon as he came into view, sitting by the table on the corner under one of the ginkgo trees. He had his laptop open and a box of food beside it. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration one moment and then he was laughing the next.

You were about to make your way towards him but immediately stopped in your tracks when you realized he wasn’t alone.

You didn’t know who the girl was. You’ve seen her a lot of times in class and in the hallway. You even have a vague memory of Mark talking to her one time. But you never really bothered to learn her name. She had that soft, innocent look that goes so well with her shy smile. She had her hair tucked in her ears to show just enough of her pretty face. She was beautiful. Unconventionally but undeniably. But none of that mattered.

When she said something with a smirk and Mark let out his trademark laugh, nose scrunching, hand repeatedly hitting the table, shoulders shaking and all, it felt like something punched you in the stomach. He uttered something in reply and now both of them are clutching their sides for laughing too hard.

He looks happy, you thought, I should be, too.

But you aren’t. You continued watching their exchange, him showing her something on his laptop and both of them laughing once again. Your chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it and now it hurts to breathe. You didn’t realize you’ve been clutching the plastic bag containing the muffin too hard until you felt the sting of nails digging on your palms. You knew you should look away but you couldn’t. You wanted to run towards him. You wanted to tell the girl to scooch over so you can sit beside Mark and give him his muffin.

This is pathetic. I should be happy for him, you said to yourself. But why am I not?

You wanted to be angry, to scream and say that it should be you he’s laughing like that with. To say that it’s you he should be spending his time with. You wanted to ask if he still feels the way he said he does about you. And if he does, then why this? But you remained glued to the ground.

You hated how you were being selfish. You rejected him, remember? So why do you expect him to follow your tails like an intoxicated mad dog? Why can’t you be happy at the possibility that he found someone that feels the same way he does? Why does it… hurt? It’s not supposed to. If you really are friends, then him being happy with someone after your rejection should make you happy as well. If you really are friends, then you shouldn’t be standing here looking stupid, watching them from afar, wishing he’s with you instead.

“What are you looking at?”

You jumped at the sudden disruption, almost dropping your muffins. “What the hell, Jaemin?!” you whined, finally looking away from Mark.

“Mark hyung and Mina?” he snorted.

So that’s her name. “No,” you lied, forcing yourself to take a step away, then another, then another.

“Are you jealous?” Jaemin teased. “Have you finally realized you’re also whipped for our hyung?”

“No,” you grumbled.

“Then why are you almost crying?”

You blinked. You didn’t even realize the tears pooling in your eyes. Why are you being like this? “Shut up. I’m not.”

Jaemin only shrugged. “Fine. Torture yourself, then.” He smirked. “By the way, Jeno and I are inviting people to our place this Friday after exams. Just some drinks and maybe karaoke, I don’t know. We all deserve a break from hell. Wanna come?”

You didn’t reply. Your mind was too preoccupied with other things.

“Mark hyung is coming,” he said. “Maybe Mina too.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you said immediately, suddenly coming up with a decision.

The boy laughed. “You are jealous! God, I love it when you prove yourself wrong. You shouldn’t be though. You already know he likes you.”

“I’m not jealous! Stop it,” you whined, really wanting to cry this time. Everything is so frustrating and Jaemin is not being of any help. You wanted to go home and just wrap yourself in your blanket and maybe one of Mark’s hoodies.

“Then come to our place this Friday. It’s gonna be fun.” He grinned.

“Fine. Whatever. Just get away from me, you little shit,” you said, kicking him lightly in the butt.

You didn’t know if it was a lie or not but if Mark really is seeing someone now, you just didn’t like the idea of seeing them flirt with each other in front of your eyes. Even the thought of it makes you want to pull all your hair out. Is that considered jealousy? If so, why are you feeling it for someone who’s supposed to be just a friend?

Thursday came and you found yourself crying after realizing the shirt you’ve been wearing the whole day was Mark’s. No wonder he looked surprised seeing you in the hallway. He looked away immediately though, acting as if you weren’t there. It didn’t even cross your mind since you use this shirt quite a lot.

After calming yourself down, you put your playlist on shuffle and cried some more after Friends by Ed Sheeran started playing. You didn’t even realize how fitting the song was for your situation until now. Mark probably did.

You remembered him singing that song once. The two of you were just lounging in his apartment. He was playing his guitar while you pretended to study when in reality you were just looking at him. You watched as his fingers plucked and strummed the guitar strings while he softly mumbled lyrics, head bobbing to the tune. He’s good. Unsurprisingly, since he’s good at everything.

When he realized you were staring at him, he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes, one side of his lips curling up into a smirk. “No, my friends won’t love me like you do,” he sang.

You looked away, your cheeks heating up almost immediately. It was hard to focus on your readings when he’s sitting right in front of you looking like that, singing like that. You sighed. He truly was never being subtle about how he felt.

After finishing the song, Mark put his guitar down and laid his head on your lap, not even bothering to ask if it’s okay. That’s how comfortable you were with each other.

“What are you doing?” You remember whining.

“Wake me up after 15 minutes,” he said, already closing his eyes. You took a photo of him that night. He’s cute when he’s asleep. Even cuter when you look at him up close.

Of course, you just had to search your camera roll to find the photo. When you did, it felt as if a storm was raging on your stomach and a gorilla was pounding on your chest. It never dawned to you just how much it hurts that he suddenly left you alone until that moment.

“Goddamn, I miss you so much,” you muttered, looking at his peaceful expression in the photo.

And then you cried some more. You feel lost.

All you wanted to do was curl up in his arms and inhale his scent and listen to how his day went (and maybe accidentally fall asleep together). It sucks because you really had no one else to turn to. The single person who has always been your safe place doesn’t want to talk to you and even if he did, you really wouldn’t know what to say. Perhaps friends really aren’t like that. The thought of everyone being right when they said that maybe you and Mark were never really just friends has never been stronger than it was tonight.

Still, you couldn’t be bothered to sort your feelings out.

He feels like home, you thought. It was the best way to explain the sense of comfort and safety and the feeling of being more than enough that he provides you. It’s the only thing you can think of when your mind drifts to how he is always the constant person that you run to at the end of the day. But friends can feel like home, too, right?

Not to this extent. Not really.

Friday. You found yourself aimlessly roaming around the neighborhood after your classes in the hopes of distracting yourself from your feelings or whatever the hell they’re supposed to be called. You wouldn’t have remembered Jaemin’s party if you didn’t happen to pass by their apartment building.

You stood in front of it for two solid minutes, contemplating whether to go or not.

Mark might be there, you thought. With everything that’s going on in your head and with all the mess happening in your chest, would it really be a good idea to see him? You thought maybe all these things you’re feeling are just a result of missing him. All these sadness and confusion might just be because you miss your best friend.

So you entered the building. You told yourself that you’ll try talking to him again this time, no matter how stubborn he’s going to be. And if it still doesn’t change anything, then you will take it as a sign to let him go. If not forever, then at least for now.

You reached the door to Jaemin and Jeno’s apartment. Even from the outside, the sound of the bass can already be heard. You wondered how long before the neighbors would file a complaint against them, but knowing Jaemin and Jeno, their neighbors are probably inside, partying with them right now.

Before entering, you looked down on your chest just to make sure you were wearing your own shirt and not Mark’s. It didn’t feel right wearing his stuff anymore. God, it really felt like you just broke up. Why is it like this?

You took a deep breath and opened the door. There were already a lot of people inside even if it was just 8 in the evening. Most of them, you know the faces of. You smiled to greet some and muttered a hi to others.

Renjun spotted you as soon as you came into the living room. “Y/N!” He grinned, handing you a cup of god knows what. “Jaemin said he invited you but we were all pretty sure you were gonna ghost us. But you didn’t!”

You laughed hesitantly. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Drink up. It’s a cocktail I made myself,” he said proudly, almost forcing the cup into your mouth.

You took a sip, figuring it won’t do any harm but you spat the liquid back to the cup as soon as it touched your tongue. “What the hell did you put in this?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just mixed in everything I could find. Thanks for trying it out though. I’ve been looking for a volunteer for five minutes already.”

You frowned. There were a lot of things you were unsure of at the moment but there is one thing that’s certain: you have weird friends. You were about to complain to Renjun when he plucked the cup from your grip and went on to find another victim, not even bothering to listen when you said you literally spat on the cup.

Mark didn’t seem to be anywhere. The apartment wasn’t that big so if he was here, it would be easy to spot him. Maybe he decided not to show up after knowing you were coming. And honestly, part of you was relieved. As much as you wanted to talk to him, you still didn’t know what to say.

I’m sorry I broke your heart, but I miss you so much and I did a lot of thinking and maybe we really shouldn’t be labeled as just friends but I don’t know if I love you, is that okay? That’s just stupid. This whole thing is stupid.

You wanted to leave. Parties have never really been your thing. You usually just go because Mark asked you to since he loves interacting with people. But you figured you needed some alcohol in your system, mainly as a distraction, but also to give you a boost of courage just in case. So you made your way to the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with anyone as much as possible.

You stopped in your tracks as you came to the kitchen. The sound of that laugh was all too familiar.

Great, you thought. Mark was there. And Mina was too. But so were Jeno and Jaemin who exchanged looks as soon as their eyes landed on you. They were all laughing about something before you came.

“You’re here!” Jaemin said a little too enthusiastically in a poor attempt to address the sudden increase of tension in the room.

“Hi,” you said, smiling sheepishly, purposefully avoiding Mark’s gaze which you could feel boring into you. “Just gonna get a drink.”

“Help yourself,” Jeno said. Jaemin smirked beside him.

The refrigerator was just beside Mark. Just great, you thought again. You walked towards it, desperately trying to ignore the four pairs of eyes following your every move.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, still not looking at your best friend.

Mark took a step sideways before opening the fridge for you. You muttered a quick thanks before grabbing the first bottle your hands landed on, not even bothering to check what it was. You really just wanted to get out of there. Maybe the talking to Mark plan was flawed from the beginning because you clearly can’t find the courage in you to face him now.

Beside you, Mark clicked his tongue. He was so close that you could smell his perfume mixed with a bit of alcohol. It made your knees weak.

He took the bottle from your hand and put it back before grabbing a different one and handing it to you. “The other one had vodka. Vodkas give you a headache, remember?” he said in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Oh.” Your voice sounded small even to your own ears. Not gonna lie, you wanted to cry at that moment. “Thanks.”

You could hear Jaemin snickering behind you but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. You turned to everyone and said a quick goodbye before dashing out of the kitchen.

Your heart was beating hard and rapidly and not because you moved too fast. You didn’t know why but it hurt seeing Mark like that, like he was okay, like nothing changed with the two of you. It hurt knowing that even after everything, he still knows you the best.

You wanted to run. You wanted to disappear. But you couldn’t leave without passing by the kitchen. Somehow, you know someone in there would stop you. If not Mark, then definitely Jaemin. But you really wanted to be alone. So you resorted to the next best thing. You whipped your phone out and sent Jaemin a text.

You: thanks for inviting me to this party. now i feel like shit :D

Jaemin: IM SORRY BUT DONT LEAVE YET TF

You: i need to be alone and i cant leave without passing by the kitchen and seeing mark. so pls let me use your room for a while.

You: i wont do anything i promise. i just need to calm down.

Jaemin: fine but dont lock the door

You: okay thanks

The door to Jaemin’s room was at the other end of the apartment. You made your way through the noisy crowd, slipping from Renjun’s weird gimmicks when he tried to make you a victim once again, before finally reaching the quiet confines of Jaemin’s room.

The thin walls barely blocked the noise but at least there was no one else here. You sat at the edge of the bed and placed the beer bottle on the floor. You forgot you didn’t even manage to open it. So you just stared at your feet, trying to catch your breath even if you didn’t do anything. That heavy feeling on your chest was back again. It was now associated with being in Mark’s presence.

You started counting to ten to calm yourself down before burying your face on your palms, breaking down into sobs as soon as your forehead came in contact with your fingers. “God, why can’t I just…” you cried, “... admit it to myself already?”

You wanted to thrash around in the bed in frustration but you thought Jaemin didn’t deserve such a mess so you settled with getting up and lightly banging your head against the door. It’s a bad habit you do when you feel annoyed or frustrated. Mark has always been reminding you to stop before you hurt yourself.

Mark. Again. You groaned, hitting your head a little harder this time.

Someone knocked on the door making you stop. You took a step back, thinking you just imagined it. But there it was again.

“Someone’s here,” you said, trying to hide the sound of your voice breaking.

“I know. Can I come in?” It was Mark. There was no question.

Your heart started pounding on your chest once again. You wanted to tell him to go away but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so.

He took your silence as a yes. He swung the door slightly and poked his head through the small opening. Your hands immediately flew to your face to hide the fact that you’ve been crying.

“You know, I came in here because I didn’t wanna see you when I pass by the kitchen if I leave then you come here making me look like a clown,” you said, your voice muffled by your hands.

Mark chuckled softly. “Why didn’t you wanna see me?”

You didn’t reply. Your face felt hot, not just because of the tears that just won’t stop falling but also because all the blood has come rushing to your cheeks.

Mark grabbed both your wrists and gently lowered your hands down, trying to see your face, but your head bent down as soon as it wasn’t covered. “Y/N, look at me,” he said, hands still on your wrists.

“No.”

“Are you crying?” The idiot crouched down to have a glimpse of your face making you whine and cover your face again. “Last I checked, I should be the one looking brokenhearted around here.”

“God I hate you,” you mumbled. “You ignored me for nearly four weeks and you come in here just to make fun of me.”

He let out an empty laugh. “Well, you did break my heart so…”

At that, you removed your hands from your face to look at him. You were going to say sorry but Mark had that smug look on his face that made you want to punch him. It was almost convincing if you weren’t so good at reading the real emotions in his eyes. His expression softened upon finally seeing you properly.

He looked away, not being able to hold your gaze either. That just confirmed how hard he was trying to keep up with the exterior he was showing everyone.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice breaking.

He sighed. “I told you. It’s okay.”

“But it’s not,” you cried. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t realize how easy it was to misread what we had because let’s face it, we don’t act like ‘just friends.’ I’m sorry because I was too blind to see how you felt even when you weren’t really trying to hide it. I’m sorry because even though I rejected you, I was so selfish that I still wanted to keep you for myself without realizing that you probably needed to be away from me to move on. I’m sorry because…” you swallowed.

Mark was just looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised in anticipation of what you were going to say next. You missed him. You missed that cute face of his. You missed being in his presence. You missed his voice and his laugh and how he loves teasing you even if he probably feels like shit inside. You missed everything. Four weeks have been too long without each other. Four weeks is too long without your best friend. Four weeks is too long without your home. And that’s when you realized…

“... I can’t let you go. And I might be too late, but I’m sorry that I only just realized why.”

“Why?” he asked.

It was a simple question. Why? Yet it managed to carve out every single feeling you’ve ever felt for this boy. Every little moment he made you laugh. Every small heartbreak you get when he fails to keep his tiny promises. Every single night you ‘accidentally’ fell asleep next to each other. Every ounce of fulfillment you get when you finally convince him to sleep after a long day. Every goodnight. Every good morning. Everything.

“I love you,” you said. It sounded almost like an exhale.

For a moment, Mark didn’t reply. Your head immediately started swarming with unwelcomed thoughts. Maybe you were too late. You almost forgot about Mina who he seems to be having an excellent time with. Maybe he managed to move on within those four weeks. It’s possible, right? You had your chance and you missed it.

Finally, Mark let out a laugh, his head falling down to look at the floor. “I told you you didn’t have to say it back,” he said, voice soft.

You shook your head. “I’m not saying it because you said it first,” you said. “I realize this might be the worst timing but I just thought you should know you weren’t the only one being stupid enough to fall for their best friend. I was just too dumb to realize that that’s what it was.”

“Why would it be the worst timing?” He frowned.

You felt like crying again. You really wish you had some alcohol in your system right now. Why is this whole confession thing taking so long? “‘Cause you’re dating Mina? Or trying to. I don’t know. I tried not keeping tabs on you because our friends are assholes who wouldn’t stop teasing me. She’s pretty, by the way. You two look good together.”

Mark laughed again. It was raw and real this time, and god, the way your chest tightened in endearment at the sound was so pure. “You thought me and Mina are dating?”

“Aren’t you? I’ve seen you guys together a lot.” Well, once. But you tend to overestimate things.

“No!” He snorted. “Jaemin and I are trying to get her and Jeno together. If anything, she made me realize that we definitely aren’t just friends.”

“Really?” Now you just feel stupid. But what else is new? It’s all you’ve been feeling lately. Come to think of it, Mark and Mina didn’t even come close to how you two act with each other.

“Really,” he said. “Friends don’t stay at each other’s place and cuddle with each other just to fall asleep, Y/N. Besides, I said I love you, didn’t I? Did you really think that’s just gonna go away that quickly?”

“Mark, I can’t even sort my feelings out. How am I supposed to figure out how yours work?” You sighed.

“Fine. Just to be clear, I still love you. Even if you don’t, I love you,” he said, taking both your hands and placing it on his shoulder before putting his on your waist.

“But I do.”

“Say it then.”

“I love you. Even if you’re the dorkiest person I know, I love you.” Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. You’ve run your hands through his hair so many times before. You wondered why it never crossed your mind that you liked doing it not because his hair is soft but because you were sucker for the domestic feeling of it.

Mark couldn’t stop himself from smiling that he had to bury his face at the crook of your neck. “I’m not used to this, sorry.”

“Me neither,” you laughed.

When he finally composed himself, he pulled away just enough to look at you. All those times you’ve stood this close before does not even compare to how it’s like right now. This is the perfect mix of feeling new but familiar.

“You have no idea how many mornings I fought the urge to kiss you whenever we wake up next to each other,” he said in a soft voice.

“Well, nothing’s stopping you know, is there?” you muttered, eyes fluttering to his lips.

You pulled Mark down by the neck as he pulled you closer to him, your lips finally connecting. The idea of kissing him isn’t new to you. There were so many times before that you’ve found yourself inches away from his face and slamming your lips together wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. But this is the first you actually kissed him yet he felt so familiar that you were almost sure you’ve done this a million times before. His lips were soft against yours that it made you weak in the knees. If he weren’t holding onto you like he was, you probably would’ve crumpled already.

The two of you pulled away, breathless.

“Wow,” he breathed. “That didn’t even come close to how I imagined it would feel like.”

You laughed. “This whole night didn’t come close to how I imagined it would be like. I thought you were gonna keep on ignoring me. And honestly, I wouldn’t know how to cope anymore because I really, really miss you already. So thanks for saving me.”

“Stop making me blush. I don’t know how I can possibly love you more than this.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. This was only one of the very few times that the reality went better than your expectations. But then again, maybe you and Mark have always been meant to happen. It was happening even before you realized it was. And now that you finally managed to sort how you both felt, there was no more wasting chances.

“Do I still have to ask you to be my girlfriend?” he asked.

“We’ve literally slept in the same bed so many times. I’d be more surprised if we’re not dating already,” you joked.

Mark grinned. “You’re literally the only one who didn’t realize that until today, but it’s okay, I still love you.”

You laughed. “Wanna go outside and pretend we didn’t make up? I’m 100% sure Jaemin betted on us.”

“I worry how your mind works sometimes, Y/N,” Mark said with a frown before kissing you on the forehead. “But let’s do it.”

You smiled. You’ve said it a lot but you really missed this proximity. You missed being able to hug him whenever you want, and now you can kiss him whenever you want too. You wanted to say you could get used to this, but the thing is… you already are.

#y/n is a clown here read at your own risk #BUT PLS ENJOY CAUSE I DID #dhjdkjfhdfk i should stop writing about mark #nct au #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee #nct mark au #nct prompts #nct blurbs #soft nct hours #sad nct hours #nct fluff au #nct angst au #nct dream au #nct 127 au

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