#so someone tell me or recommend something pls pls pls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 7 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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alonetimelover · 1 year

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x booktuber!reader

summary: A new series on ynrecommends channel on YT called Celebrity Book Club grabbed Harry's attention. Now, they are simply joined at the hip. As friends. Right?

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yourinstagram

liked by harryupdates, yourbestfriend and 17 291 others

yourinstagram hello! i started a new series on my YouTube channel - celebrity book club! my first victim was the one and only - Harry Styles. he has an... interesting library to recommend. click the link in bio if you want to watch me gush over harry, new bookshop I found and the best coffee ive ever made!! byeee, xx

also, you harries are too good with photoshop. i was sure he was reading book lovers...

view all 2 302 comments

yourbestfriend bestie gettin' famous!!!!

⤷ yourinstagram i knew it was a bad idea to listen to you...

⤷ yourbestfriend people need to know how great of a booktuber and reader you are

harryupdates that's a great video! i immediately subscribed to your channel!

⤷ yourinstagram thank you! I hope you'll find something for yourself there, xx

user22 came here from yt! fantastic video

user39 your editing skills are amazing!!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, yourinstagram and 34 402 others

harryupdates yn from ynrecommends on yt did a video where she read all the books that Harry has ever recommended. she is hilarious, very sweet, and absolutely clever. watch it when you have some spare time, you won't be disappointed!!

view all 5 201 comments

hArrysbtch ive been watching her videos for months!!! thank god she finally gets the spotlight she deserves

⤷ harrysmoustache does she (like most of the booktubers) sugar-coat everything or she's just blunt?

⤷ hArrysbtch oh she's super down to earth! she also does those instagram lives where she talks about the latest book(s) she's read. super funny and laid back

⤷ harrysmoustache oh, thank god! i was looking for someone like that! im diving into her channel right now!

yourinstagram thank you so much! thanks to you, you harries are flooding my socials!! (im not complaining) xx

⤷ harryupdates can't wait for another video!

harryshoee she's so beautiful, too! and loves cats!

harrysmylife "harry, if you ever watch it, let's pretend you guys, if you ever watch it, i recommend you diving into Toshikazu Kawaguchi" she has TASTE, let me tell you

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harrymylove

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 22 301 others

harrymylove I'VE MET HARRY YESTERDAY!!!! look at him and my doggy Bart. i still can't process it...

view all 3 301 comments

hArrysbtch how was it???

⤷ harrymylove it was so lovely! he was kind enough to take a photo and talk with me for a while!

⤷ hArrysbtch what did you talk about? pls spill the tea

⤷ harrymylove im an English major so i asked him about some book recommendations. he answered with "i didn't have much time to read anything new recently. but was recommended and just bought Toshikazu Kawaguchi's books, so maybe this author"

hArrysbtch Kawaguchi???? after yn recommend that to him in a video???? he watched her video??? yourinstagram

harrysmoustache I've just started reading 'before the coffee gets cold' and looooove it!!

harryupdates do we think he actually watched yn's video?

⤷ hArrysbtch i hope so!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrymylove and 45 302 others

harryupdates HARRY'S official YT channel left a comment on ynrecommends latest video!!

view all 6 401 comments

hArrysbtch that bish said 'let me break the internet and use me fuckin phone'

hArrysbtch unbelievable...

harrymylove he watched the video that's why he recommended me Kawaguchi... im melting

harrysmoustache i hope that he loves it as much as i did!!!

harrysmylife 'love, h xx' let me go cry in the corner

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yourinstagram

liked by yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 67 492 others

yourinstagram hopefully, this date will be successful

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yourbestfriend was it?

⤷ yourinstagram after a couple glasses of wine, we moved to the bedroom

⤷ yourbestfriend STOP

⤷ yourinstagram never praise a ford till you get over...

harrystyles Assuming it wasn't successful, do you have any dates free?

⤷ yourinstagram i'll need to check my calendar, although i only attend when coffee (or wine) and good books are provided

⤷ harrystyles Done.

⤷ yourinstagram i'll think about it 🫣

harryupdates oh those are so tricky!!!

hArrysbtch stop, i also had an awful blind date with a book...

⤷ yourinstagram that's the worst! i just need to read the synopsis and thena few pages to decide if I want to buy it

harrysmoustache why is nobody talking about harry being in the comment section??? ASKING HER OUT??? who is this man??? what's happening

⤷ user93 well, it's clearly not him typing or even controlling it! the managmet took it over long ago!

⤷ harrysmoustache and they say im delulu...

harrysmylife SHUT UP !!! avtivrry is my favourite harry, like??? what do you mean he can type the comment? the flirty one? the one asking a girl out? like???

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harrystyles via close friends IG stories

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates and 4 292 294 others

harrystyles 11.08.2023 📚

view all 23 292 comments

yourinstagram you did not buy them just for yourself

⤷ harrystyles Wouldn't you like to know 😎

harryupdates Well-read king that we stan

hArrysbtch I'm connecting the dots here

harrysmylife welcome back 2013 Harry, how have you been?

harrysfan83 since that girls yt video, he became obsessed with books...

⤷ harrymylove it's called getting a crush on somebody

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hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates and 4 492 others

hArrysbtch sooo, this is a still from yn's latest video... that stack of books looks awfully familiar to the one that Harry posted a week or so ago... coincidence? i don't think so. plus!!!! she did say she didn't spend a penny on those books

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harrysmoustache if they are together, i feel like the fandom would love her

⤷ hArrysbtch i would hope so!

harrysmylife relationship, friendship or whatever -ship it is, im here for itttt

user94 y'all are really reaching now...

harryupdates it's the way she was glowing in that video for me! she looked so happy

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yourinstagram

liked by hArrysbtch, harrystyles and 76 301 others

yourinstagram when they read your recommendations>>>

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hArrysbtch now let him play patroclus in a movie, i dare you Hollywood

⤷ harrysmoustache who would you choose as Achilles??

⤷ hArrysbtch you know what? let him be Achilles and Timothee would be Patroclus

⤷ harrysmylife this adaptation with this casting would cure me, for real

harrysmoustache he's in his lover era

harrystyles I love reading your copies of books with all the 'cute' and 'slay' and 'I LOVE THEM'.

⤷ yourinstagram it's called active reading

⤷ harrystyles No, its not.

⤷ yourinstagram party pooper

yourbestfriend thanks for inviting me!!!

⤷ harrystyles Do yo want to join us?

⤷ yourbestfriend I knew I liked you for a good reason

harrysfan45 so she is the girl from those pap photos

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, stylesbabie and 87 392 others

harryupdates HARRY taking photos of YN in Italy!!

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hArrysbtch melting

harrysmoustache what in the world...

stylesbabie i know exactly what that photo is focusing on

⤷ user42 what?

⤷ stylesbabie (•) (•)

⤷ harrysmoustache in the wise words of Steve Harrington: BOOBIES

harrysmylife so they are dating

⤷ user93 no one confirmed it

⤷ harryupdates good luck with waiting for Harry, confirming that he is/isn't in a relationship

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 291 492 others

yourinstagram the promised vlog is up on my channel! grab some good drink and a snack for a quick talk about being single, vulnerability, loving your friends more than anything and - of course - some good books I've read in Italy!!!

view all 16 302 others

harrystyles I see the similarities between pictures 3 and 4

⤷ yourinstagram well, one is a cute little creature and the other is a sweet creature

⤷ harrystyles Good one.

hArrysbtch best vlog I've ever watched!!! Good job!

harrysmoustache being single??? what do you mean? i was rooting for you...

⤷ stylesbabie ...we were all rooting for you

harryupdates great recommendations as always!!! my tbr is growing with each of your video

celebrityupdates Single? Our sources are saying quite otherwise!

⤷ user56 spill the tea!!!!

⤷ celebrityupdates Link in bio to all the things you need to know about this romance!

⤷ harrysmylife it's like a man and a woman cannot be friends

⤷ hArrysbtch here we go again...

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a/n: do we want to see more of them?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #booktuber!reader

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reallyromealone · 1 year

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I think this is it.

Aight, thank you. Here's my request: So Pro-hero Bakugou has a husband (reader) and a son who didn't inherit his quirk. Instead, he got m readers' "weak" healing quirk. The kid hates/dislikes reader for getting his "useless" quirk instead. Meek reader doesn't want tell Bakugou that the son has a crappy teen ego, but Bakugou comes home early to see son berating reader. And Bakugo just scolds the son and explains why the the healing quirk is useful and how reader is amazing. Its a bit angsty, but can we have some fluff comfort at the end pls? Thank you again. :)

I got this

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

One thing no one in U.A expected was for Bakugo to get with Recovery girls grandson, the Omegas quirk being "healing aura" the ability to create a healing must up to 12 feet.

The two teens didn't get along initially, Bakugo crass and rude and (name) very much no nonsense and stubborn, the two constantly butted heads during their stay at U.A.

It was a surprise towards the end of their high school career for the two to move in together with an upcoming engagement "when did they even start dating?" Some would ask only to realize those arguments and comments were actually the two flirting.

(Name) ended up much like his grandmother and travelling agency to agency and helping out post villain attacks and doing what he could, gaining adoration and fans through how much he helped.

They almost forgot he was an Omega till he went on maternity leave.

(Sons name) was very much like Katsuki, a spitfire who had many little options and though Katsuki calmed down considerably there was no denying they were practically clones.

And because of this, it devastated (sons name) when he didn't get his sires "heroic" quirk but instead got (name)s quirk, the boy over time developing a resentment to his Dam.

Due to (name) only being called for emergencies, he ended up taking his late grandmother's place at U.As Medical wing.

And because of these hours, he was often left to care for his son alone while Katsuki did hero work, and because of this missed his son developing into a mythic asshole.

(Name) was exhausted after work, needing to use his quirk a lot today along with quirkless medical practice as many students didn't need his quirk but a simple bandage and such.

The house was a mess, whenever (sons name) came home he always made a mess, deeming it "Omega work" as the teen scrolled his phone "arent you supposed to be studying for the written exam?"

"Why should I? Dad got me in on recommendation, thank god since all you gave me was a shitty quirk" the teen snapped and (name) looked absolutely heartbroken at this as the teen continued "thank god dad's been teaching me martial arts since it's so useless-- seriously why did I have to get stuck with something as useless as your quirk, I'm amazed dad settled for someone as useless as you"

"The fuck you say?" The two turned to see Katsuki Bakugo walk in, out of uniform after finishing work at his agency "d-dad..." (sons name) looked sick and (name) on the verge of tears "your dad's "useless quirk" literally saved countless lives and your dad hauled ass saving countless People from villains" his voice cold as he dropped his duffle bag "why's the house a mess? You not fucking helping your Dam? I know he just got home so I know this ain't his mess" he laughed without any humor "disrespectful little shit, get up and clean this mess, after we train and get ready because it's gonna be hell" Katsuki promised coldly and the teen got up not wanting to piss off his dad more as the pro led (name) to their room.

"How long?" He said pulling the exhausted Omega into his lap, only soft for his mate "honestly since he found out his quirk, it's just been coming out the past few months..." Katsuki was shocked at this, how did he miss this?! "Why didn't you say anything?"

"... You were busy... You were working so hard on building your agency and I wanted to lift some weight off your shoulders" he wanted to cry as his husband held him close "stop being stupid" his voice loving despite the harsh words "I'll whip I'm straight, rely on me idiot"

(Name) was left to relax in the bedroom as Bakugo handled his son, calling a few hero friends to help especially the teens uncle Izuku and uncle Aizawa-- the teen spending his break at his uncle Aizawas and subsequently with uncle Shinsou who was visiting.

By the written exam he was kicked into shape and Bakugo made sure his mate was reminded over and over again how loved he was.

#omega male reader #omegaverse #male reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x male reader #bakugo x male reader

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randombush3 · 5 months

Text

a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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purerae · 2 months

Note

teehee first ask thing :3c

i work at a movie theater and it sucks, literally the only thing that keeps me going is pretending someone going to see movies just to interact with me. tbh whenever i scan someone ticket and they’re cute, i’ll try to be at their theater whenever the movie end just to tell them “have a nice day!”

do what you'll want with this, i just wanna share my delusions ^^

hihi omg this is so cute, i wrote a little something about it !!

(i wrote this at like four am on a googles doc and didn’t proof read — pls forgive me for the kinda lame writing ;;;)

You’re tired. Extremely tired. If you got a coin for how many times somebody had asked you a stupid question — you’d be able to quit your job by now.

The smell of popcorn and off brand candy lingers in the air; you feel sick to your stomach as you look at the clock. 3 more hours of your shift left, god, you close your eyes for a solid minute — imagining yourself in your nice warm bed away from all the noise, smell and buzzing food machines.

Fortunately, it seems as the flurry amount of people had dispersed after the screenings of the new trending movie had stopped at a certain time. You hum a sigh under your breath, the theater was almost empty, You prayed to whatever was listening to you that a group of teenagers wouldn’t just burst in and charge towards your counter.

You decide to pass off some time by restocking the candy shelves by your desk, grimacing at the overpriced labels when you suddenly hear a small cough.

Looking up, you notice a very familiar customer beaming at you with a big smile. Their eyes light up, and you can't help but change your tired expression to one that matches theirs.

“Hey! How’s your shift going Y/N?” The man smiles, fidgeting with his hands as he eagerly looks at you.

“Good as a shift can get Matteo, how’s your day going? This is the third time you came this week — Must’ really like movies.. new world record huh?”

You respond back, with no malice in your tone, exchanging banter with your favourite customer. He comes so often to the theatre, that you guys are already on first name basis.

Honestly, the only reason he was your favourite customer was because of how how nice and pleasant he was to chat too.

Matteo would arrive with a warm smile, always making a beeline for whichever counter you were working at. You guys would chat about the latest releases, obscure indie films, and laugh over the messiness of children running around.

You’d remember the first time he came into the movies with his friends, his eyes would linger on you every now and again whilst ordering — you never really paid any mind to it.

Matteo raises his eyebrows as you question him. “…Really like movies?” A pause between the two of you as you nod awkwardly, before his eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh yeah— yeah! I love movies hahaha…! Movies are great.. awesome, spectacular, so fun!!” He says laughing, wiping his eyebrow and grinning extremely wide.

Rapidly changing the subject, Matteo places one of his arms on the counter. “The movie you recommended to me two days ago was so funny! I loved it, anything new for me today?”

To be frank, you could not recall what movie you told him to watch, and you doubt you even watched it yourself! However, seeing the gleam in his face — you didn’t have the heart to tell him so.

You shift your head slightly to see behind Matteos head, the small list of movies that were going to play soon. Selecting the most cool sounding one, you look back at him.

“There’s a movie called ‘Argan Gate’ that came out recently in theatre 3?”

His smile becomes even more radiant (which you didn’t know could be possible) as he looks through his bag, “Sounds perfect! I’ll take a ticket!”

Matteo hands you his money, your fingers brushed slightly, The man freezes as he just stares at your hands for a solid few seconds before zoning back in with flushed cheeks.

“…I’ll tell you how the movie was after, see you at your next shift?” He says with a flustered look. You mutter a small okay with a wave as he walks to the movie screening.

You wonder for a second on how he’d know when your next shift is, and why he watches every single thing you recommend him. Pausing as you stare at his back with a narrowed gaze before you shrug your shoulders, going back to restocking the shelves

‘He must just really really love movies.’

130 notes · View notes

weirdsht · 2 months

Text

Platitude (Cliché pt. 2) - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: I didn't plan on making a pt. 2 but the idea has been haunting me even in my sleep. If you haven't read pt. 1 I recommend you do. Most of the context in this fic will be seen there.

tags: Reader will be referred to as Venion, Raon focused, mention of torture, mention of vomit, hints of eating disorder, angst (not really I think), hurt/comfort(?), hopeful ending

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Cliché (pt. 1)

He is great and mighty.

The dragon believes– knows that he is great and mighty.

He has known it since his he hatched from his egg. Knows that his kind is the greatest existence to ever grace this world.

Despite all those things, he can’t show just how great and mighty he is.

And it’s all because of these stupid chains that shackle him down. Chains that restrict his movement. Chokers that rendered him unable to speak and use magic.

It doesn’t make him any less great though. He’ll be even more great and mighty once he can use magic but he is plenty great and mighty now.

That’s what he tells himself every day. What he tells to comfort himself as this atrocious noble named Venion Stan tortures him. What gets him by day by day without giving up. Without succumbing to the pain.

Words that he whispers to himself might be words of comfort, but it is not unfounded. Even at merely 3 years old. Even without magic. He is still a majestic existence.

For he still has his wits.

Hence why he noticed that Venion Stan is unwilling in the things he does. At first, the black dragon thought someone else was ordering him and he had no choice but to follow. Perhaps someone like the Marquiss, his father.

“Sto– ugh!”

“Did you say anything, young master?”

“No. Something just got stuck in my throat.”

That was the moment the dragon decided to look at it from a different perspective.

He was sure Venion Stan was about to say “stop”, but was unable to because an unknown force was physically stopping him.

After that day he decided to observe the noble’s actions.

Slowly but surely he connected the dots. Saw the signs of unwillingness in his eyes. Noticed how he would deliberately twist his words to sound evil because something would stop him if he didn’t. Felt the way Venion would secretly care for him.

Witnessed how his eyes died a little more every visit.

The baby dragon is the one being tortured. However, he can’t help but feel pity for his torturer. Venion Stan’s mental anguish is deep. So deep that those green eyes of his almost look black from how soulless they are.

Both of them are unwilling victims in this situation.

Once the dragon realised this fact, his heart could let go of some of his hate a little. It’s not fully gone. It can never be fully gone until he gets his revenge. Because how dare lowly humans capture and torture someone great and mighty like him?

However…

He is not irrational. He knows how to give credit where it is due.

And in this situation that credit mostly belongs to whoever is controlling Venion Stan’s body. That and he once overheard that a secret organization is responsible for capturing him.

The black dragon believes that they must be the ones to pay the price of his wrath.

Which was why he has decided to look kindly upon Venion.

Over the course of the year, they have spent together, the cell the black dragon lives in has become more comfortable. Pillows and other soft objects are placed everywhere. Warm lighting replaced the white, cold ones. His chains are not as heavy and even have soft fur in them. Sometimes, he can even eat delicious and filling meals.

His living conditions are great. Well, great for a prisoner at least.

The same thing can’t be said for his torturer.

Venion Stan looks like he's the one being tortured. And honestly, the dragon also thinks so. He has gotten skinnier. The bags under his eyes have gotten deeper, as well as the despair in his eyes.

His not even eating anymore. At first, the black dragon thought that it was just an excuse to give him the food.

“Young master, I’m sorry to interfere but you did not eat dinner. You also barely ate during breakfast. This lowly servant of yours urges you to eat more.”

Oh…

It wasn’t just an excuse to give him the food.

The black dragon had at least hope that Venion Stan was eating his fill. He needed it, with all the vomiting he does. It’s bad for him to not eat anything…

Bleurgh!

Speaking of vomiting. Another thing the dragon had noticed was how there seemed to be blood in his vomit nowadays. He hypothesises that it has something to do with the young noble pushing the unknown restrictions to make him more comfortable.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Young master! Are you okay!? I’ll go call for a healer!“

“No need. This is just from the heat outside.”

The black dragon observes as blood drips down from Venion’s nose. It happened almost immediately after he ordered his men to lessen their business in the back alleys.

Blood must be the payment whenever a restriction is violated. However, Venion Stan doesn’t seem to be aware of it. It looks like he truly thinks it’s just from the heat.

Luckily it doesn’t happen again.

The blood in his vomit was still there, but he didn’t have a nosebleed after that incident.

Not that the dragon cares of course. He just thinks that it will be a pity if Venion drops dead before he can get his revenge.

Venion Stan must stay alive until he can get his revenge.

“I promise after tonight everything will get better…”

The fool whispered in his ear one random night. He was merely resting his eyes but Venion must’ve thought he was asleep and begun whispering a bunch of nonsense in his ear.

But he lets it be.

He doesn’t know why, but his instincts are telling him to pretend to sleep and see what Venion will do.

It was silent for a few moments, but then he suddenly felt a soft hand stroking his head. The hand was skinny. Boney even. It wasn’t the ideal head pat. Nonetheless, the black dragon felt an odd sense of comfort as Venion stroked his head.

Plop

He felt two lone tears wet his horns. Tears that are full of suffering. The tears of someone who is carrying a different shackles than what the dragon does.

After that, like a dream, Venion Stan goes out of the cave.

When he opened his eyes again he could see servants removing the decorations that adored his cell. Turning it back to how it used to be; cold and uncomfortable.

For a moment the dragon thought Venion Stan was abandoning him.

The thought alone makes him feel a sense of dread. But he doesn’t know why. For surely, it can’t be because he has learned how to care for that cold-hearted bastard.

‘But he isn’t really cold-hearted…’

He pushes his thoughts away as this mysterious red-haired man carries him out of the cave. Showed him what the night sky looked like for the first time.

The mysterious man sets him free. He doesn’t try to keep him. Tells him to live his lie how he wants to.

And that’s exactly what he does.

He felt a sense of attachment to the man named Cale. So he follows him around. Hunts food for them to eat.

But that’s not the only thing he has been doing.

One night, for just one night a few days after his escape. He doesn’t follow Cale Henituse.

Instead, he follows Venion Stan.

It was easy to track him down. Both men are going to the capital after all. It merely took minutes for the toddler to find out where he was.

Honestly, he has no good reason why he would visit his torturer. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was to ensure he didn’t drop dead before he got his revenge.

Nonetheless, the dragon visits Venion to see the terrible state he is in.

Terrible doesn’t justify the state Venion is in.

As the black dragon peeks at the windows he can see the blonde sitting straight in his bed. With nothing but a singular candle to accompany him in his large, and lavish room.

Venison Stan looks horrific. There’s nothing behind his green eyes. No emotions whatsoever. His eyes were green but they looked like black holes.

He looks like those creepy things On has told stories about. The ones possessed by ghosts and don’t know who they are anymore.

Yeah, that was it.

Venison Stan looked like someone who has lost his sense of self.

He looks like a puppet waiting desperately for his strings to be cut off.

“One more year… Just one more year and everything will end… I have laid out everything. Have done everything I could.”

Venison Stan started muttering to himself.

“But why? Why must I suffer like this? Was I that bad in my past life?”

His voice was emotionless, yet the dragon could hear his despair loud and clear.

“I think I lived decently… I did, right? Maybe I thought it wrong? Maybe I was atrocious… Maybe I deserve this. Maybe I’m meant to not be able to have free will. Maybe the gods thought that giving me free will is a bad idea…”

Venion did not spill a single tear. But the dragon could tell he was weeping.

Unable to hear anymore, he flew back to where Cale and the others were.

That night he feels his heart become as heavy as the choker that used to chain him down.

“...It’s okay. I said it’s okay”

The black dragon mumbled to himself as Venion Stan walks by.

He may feel a sense of kinship with the noble but it does not erase the trauma he has experienced. Even if he knows it was traumatizing for Venion too.

But just like he couldn’t stop his shaking limbs when Venion approached them with that vicious look he had. He also can’t stop himself from checking how the blonde is doing.

‘He still eats so little… His dizzy, he grits his teeth like that whenever he feels dizzy from not eating enough.’

The emotions other people had mistaken for anger... only the black dragon could decipher what they truly mean.

Maybe time really brings a sense of familiarity.

But he keeps his mouth shut. Doesn’t tell anyone, not even Cale, of Venion’s real state.

Because he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

He doesn’t care but he still checked on Venion during the terrorist attack. Makes sure that he is alive and in one piece.

He doesn’t care but still thinks about him every night. Thinks about those mutterings he heard that night.

He doesn’t care but he hopes and prays that Venion has not dropped dead yet. Hopes that his eating as well as Raon is doing.

He doesn’t care, it’s all just part of his revenge. He must get the perfect revenge.

But the sweet, young dragon could only lie to himself for so long.

“Human…”

Raon spoke the night before they were supposed to kidnap Venion Stan.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about that bastard.”

Cale opens his ears as Raon spills everything. Listens to every word coming out of the toddler's mouth.

And after all that Cale asks him.

“What do you want to do now?”

If he doesn’t want to proceed Cale wont force him. That’s what he likes the most about his human. Cale respects every decision he makes. Attentively listens to everything he has to say.

“I still want to kidnap him. But… I don’t want to torture him. He has already been tortured enough.”

Raon buries his head on Cale’s chest. He stops his tears from flowing.

“Human, his still suffering. Even after my chains got removed, his shackles remained.”

“Okay, we’ll do what you want.”

Cale doesn’t fully comprehend what he means but he respects his decisions. Raon knows that Cale doesn’t understand.

“You’ll understand what I mean once you see his eyes.”

That was the only thing he said to his human. He wanted Venion’s gaze to tell the rest of the tale.

Venison Stan did not disappoint.

He delivered exactly what Raon wanted to show everyone.

Showed everyone just how much melancholy his eyes held.

In fact, there’s so much anguish hidden behind those eyes of his that even Raon was shocked.

If Raon thought Venion’s state was terrible a year ago, he has no words to describe him now.

The man looks dead. No, he looks like his desperately waiting for death.

And it brings a sick feeling to Raon’s stomach.

“Do you have any questions left for him?”

Cale asks after the blonde man faints from coughing blood. He says no, his curiosity has been quenched. The answers he provided and the clear repercussions of his restriction satisfied Raon.

“Human ask him for Venion’s servant! The granny that wears her hair in a bun! She knows just how little that punk eats!”

“Tell him about how he can’t control his words and actions! Tell him about how doesn’t want to do most of the things his doing!”

“Human what sentence did Venion Stan get? Is he okay? You told them to not send him to prison right? You told them he didn’t have a choice right?”

“Human, are you busy? Can you call Taylor and ask him how Venion is doing?”

“Are we going anywhere this week? If not can we go visit the Stan territory?”

“Maybe if I bring him apple pies he’ll eat more?”

Raon doesn’t even know what his doing. He doesn’t realise just how much he is looking after his supposed torturer.

However, no one calls him out on it. They just indulge the child and let him do whatever he wants.

“Venion is inside that room young master. You can try to speak to him but it’s unlikely that he’ll respond… Are you sure you want to go in alone?”

Taylor Stan asks one more time and Cale just nodded in affirmation.

“If you need any assistance a servant will be waiting here.”

With that Taylor leaves leaving Cale to enter Venion’s room alone. Well, he and Raon but Taylor doesn’t know about the dragon’s existence.

“He also looked like this when I visited him that one night.”

As soon as the door closed, Raon turned off his invisibility and flew over to the bed where Venion was sitting up.

“But that time he looked more alive. He looked like he was looking forward to something. Turns out he was looking forward to his death but that it was still a better look than what he has right now.”

Cale clicks his tongue but Raon ignores him. Instead, he directed his words to Venion.

“That night, before the human got me out of that cave. I’m sure you remember it. Did you know that I heard what you told me that night?”

Raon feels like Venion is listening to him.

“You told me that after that night everything will get better. And it did, after that night everything did get better for me.”

The toddler placed his paw on top of Venion’s still hand.

“But what about you? Why did nothing get better for you after that night? Even now you’re still being tortured. You’re shackles are still holding you down even after you broke mine.”

Raon raised his shaking paws to hug the man. From the side, Cale merely observes, ready to step in when needed.

“Consider this as payment for patting my head that night.”

The black dragon feels a lone tear grace his head. He doesn’t say anything about it. He didn’t even raise his head to look at Venion.

They stayed like that for at least 2 minutes. At some point, Venion’s arms had also embraced Raon. His hold was weak and lifeless. Like when you force a teddy bear to encircle his arms around you.

But it’s the best he can do right now, and Raon will take it.

“We have to go, but before we go I’ll leave you one of my apple pies.”

Raon places a lone apple pie on the nightstand.

“Beacrox made it! He makes delicious food! Maybe if you eat something that tastes good you’ll eat more! Next visit I’ll try to save some of the Crown Prince’s cookies for you to try!”

With that, Raon waved his hand goodbye after promising to visit again.

A few days after that meeting, Cale receives an update from Taylor Stan saying that his brother is eating a bit more now. He excitedly tells Cale how he's been eating the desserts Raon sends.

Cale smiles at the thought of Raon’s happy face once he hears how Venion Stan is slowly recovering.

And indeed Raon was elated at the news. He immediately urges Cale to go visit Venion again.

He may not be fond of the guy, but Cale smiles a little as his kid frantically packs a bunch of things to bring to the Stan territory.

93 notes · View notes

gvnvks · 1 year

Text

zb1 giving you partner privileges … !

> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem!reader

> warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread

> song recommendation: mori by dawid podsiadlo (its in polish but u gotta listen to it fr)

> note: i started my exams today … two more to go !!

김 jiwoong.

THE PRIVILEGE IS REAL

im being so fr 😭

when literally anyone tries to take something from him, JUST BORROW FOR A SEC he immediately turns D:

except when its you

you could take (over) this mans whole life (you already did) and he wouldn’t even complain

hes THAT whipped

girl TRUST ☠️

“hey jiwoong, i wondered if i could borrow your charger for a sec, mine just stopped wor-“ rickys sentence got cut short by jiwoongs whine

HOMEBOY SNATCHED THAT CHARGER AWAY FROM HIM

“jiwoong, my sweet !! i thought i could use your laptop. i need to get some work done real quick”

jiwoong immediately gives u the laptop no hesitations

trust me if he could give you his all time life savings along with that laptop HE WOULD

(pls do i kinda need money 💯)

“can i use ur cologne jiwoong pls” “no”

BUT IF ITS YOU

“hey jiwoong!! i thought your cologne smelt really nice and wondered if i could spray a little on myself too!!”

shows u all colognes he has ever bought

EVEN THE EMPTY BOTTLES

“u can choose. the one i used today is this one :D”

later gives u like 2-3 of his STILL FULL colognes that you liked the smell of cause “i dont need that many anyways”

장 hao.

he’s serious about his sleeping

trust me.

he gets so mad when someone disturbs him in his slumber

and he’s also very difficult to wake up 😭

seriously

“hao u really should wake up…”

*snores*

“hao pls we have a schedule in 30 minutes”

*snores*

jiwoong you should just give up atp 🧍🏻‍♀️

“literally wake up what the fuck”

and let me tell y’all

when someone other than you miraculously manages to wake his ass up

he’ll just straight up yell at them

“SHUT UP” yes throw that pillow hao ‼️

but you

your voice has something that immediately wakes him up in his best mood

rainbows around his head and allat yk yk

every time when it’s you waking him up TRUST ME you’ll never see a morning pout on his face

you could literally beat his ass awake and he’d have nothing against it ☠️

he gets all soft and allat … yeah cute babe hao

his members r fucking confused cause what he so whipped for

can u see the what the fuck expression on jiwoongs face ??

HE JUST SIGHS

HE OFFICIALLY GAVE UP YALL

he’s in love like that

giving you privileges LIKE THAT …

also his morning i love yous … hi I need a bf quick

he’s a 10/10 boyfriend btw 💋

성 hanbin.

the amount of privilege you get as hanbins partner …

he literally pays for your every single thing

u saw that new pretty skirt while window shopping ??

“honey, want me to buy it for you?”

no matter your answer he in fact always does buy it

ur on a date in that cute new caffe ??

“hey, choose what you want. ill pay.”

SO HOT 💔

“hanbin !! this necklace is pretty, isn’t it ??”

“yeah, pretty neat” and the necklace is at your door 2 days later

basically your human wallet

of course its not like u demand from him to pay for you, he just does

and hanbin really enjoys buying you things and making you happy btw ‼️

cute

but when it’s his members 😭

oh hell naw he ain’t having it

“hanbin could you pls pay for me I forgot my wallet”

AND HE JUST GLARES

sighs

and sometimes SOMETIMES he does pay for his members but it’s like

once in a blue moon literally

“hanbin do you maybe want to buy me that new, cool game (whatever games he fucking plays) ??” GYUVIN BABE YOU KNOW THE ANSWER

“no” LMAOO

“oh no !! i ran out of money on apple pay …” you just wanted to buy keys on subway surfers 😕

hanbin IMMEDIATELY charges your apple pay with … a lot of money. you can buy a lot of keys now. are you happy.

GYUVIN SEES IT ALL AND IS OFFENDED ☠️

석 matthew.

i get a feeling that as long as matthew enjoys physical affection, he’s not that big on hair touching ?? like yk

he probably won’t let his members touch his hair very often

i dont know i just feel like he wouldn’t like it

“matthew, u got something on your hair” gunwook tries to pick whatever shit landed on his head

MATTHEW GRASPS HIS HAND HALFWAY 😭

GUNWOOK LITERALLY HISSES IN PAIN MATTHEW CHILL PLS PLs pLS

“i can do it myself” okay mr serious ?? gunwook literally didn’t ask

its not that serious, it was never that serious 💯

BUT WHEN YOURE IN THE PICTURE

you really like touching his hair

it’s so soft and allat

and sometimes you just randomly place ur hand on his head

he tenses up FOR A LITTLE SECOND and then softens up cause he realizes it’s you

SO CUTE 💔

lets you touch it for however long you want

matthew just doesn’t mind

ALSO

when you kiss his hair while ur hand is on his head he gets all shy and covered in blush 😭

kisses u back …

can u imagine what he’d do if instead of you it was one of the boys

HED THROW HANDS I CAN FUXKING TELL

honestly i dont see matthew as an aggressive (?) type of guy but when it comes to his hair ☠️

김 taerae.

we all know taeraes fashion sense is a bit … yeah.

basically it’s kinda bad

but that boy doesn’t let ANYONE literally anyone style him

“taerae i dont think these red pants fit well with that shirt …” hao just tried to give him some advice

and taerae just ignores his words 😭

“no taerae, don’t but these shoes, they won’t go with anything”

“stfu” BYE

but you ………

of course you love your precious bf but

sometimes you just can’t stand how off his outfits look 💔

”hm taerae… i dont think this shirt fits these cargos! maybe you could wear this white one?”

changes in the blink of an eye ‼️

“do i look better, sweetheart ??”

YES YES YOU DO

he’s so cute pls

he’s ready to change his whole outfit if you ask him to

“taerae i don’t think this outfit suits a date night…”

it’s not like you demand him to change, you just simply share your opinion

WHICH HE FUCKING RESPECTS

maybe even a little too much 😭

so whipped

guess who has head over heels for you

definitely not taerae

“taerae, my sweet !! these pants have too many bright colors, don’t you think they won’t suit anything you have ??”

“oh! maybe you’re right. thank you, sweetheart”

NAH BYW

리키 ricky.

he’s so in love that the amount of privileges he gives you is fucking enormous, im fr

but we’ll focus on one

ricky never lets ANYONE go through his phone 🙏🏼

he doesn’t hide anything or sth

he just doesn’t like when people go through his things, especially without his permission

“what the fuck are you doing with my phone, yujin” in a matter of 0.5 seconds rickys phone is not in yujins hands anymore

poor boy just wanted to check the weather 💔

“hey ricky, can i check something in your phone ?? mine just died”

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, HANBIN

“no” as simple as that 😭

“oh ricky … i also wanted to check my gmail real quick but its o-“

he doesn’t let you finish and just hands you his phone

HANBIN IS OFFENDED (who wouldn’t 😭 this looks like some kind of prejudice)

oh my god how things change when it comes to you …

basically you have more access to his phone than ricky himself

sometimes it even comes to you literally using his phone all day. literally whole 24 hours 💯

AND HE DOESNT COMPLAIN AT ALL ??

like literally no complaints whatsoever. zero. none. 0. FUXKING NULL.

his members r like what the fuck because like

WHATS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND THEM

yall sometimes also like to switch phones for a day

the amount of pictures you take on his phone 😭

so whipped that he deletes NONE of them ‼️🙏🏼

김 gyuvin.

yes i do know i use this theme a lot while writing for gyuvin but i just cant help leave me alone pls

okay we all know gyuvin likes gaming

but he’s real serious about that …

if you’re not (y/n) don’t even think of disturbing him while he’s gaming 😭

HED LASH OUT TRUST

“gyuvin do you want som-“ taerae can’t even finish because gyuvin starts fucking throwing hands at him

“im kinda busy yk.” yes. yes we know.

HE DOESNT EVEN LET ANYONE TOUCH HIM ?? LIKE AT ALL ☠️

oh such a discord mod he is (im joking btw..)

but if it’s you …

oh girl i envy you this kind of boyfie 😕‼️

when you’re near him while he’s gaming he’d literally play with his headset only half on

yk in case you need something from him

so cute and so hot at the same time 🧍🏻‍♀️

he’d abandon his game for you

AND IM SERIOUS WHEN I SAY ABANDON

GIRL TRUST 💯

and ..

he lets you sit on his lap too ??

oh lawd have mercy 🙏🏼

when u sit on his lap he would literally play with one hand just to rub soothing circles on your back …

pls i need a therapist 💋

박 gunwook.

gunwook really doesn’t like when someone disturbs him while he’s focused on something

i mean its kinda obvious ??

probably no one does lmao 😭

he’s ready to throw hands even if it’s something way more important than the thing he’s focused on

IM SERIOUS ONG ‼️

“gunwook, can you stop what you’re doing for a while?” jiwoong asks with a pretty serious tone

“i can’t” WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING UP FROM HIS BOOK ?

not good … 💔

jiwoong im so sorry you’re probably so done by now

but if it’s you … !!!!!

“gunwook…” you whine, feeling kinda bored and alone today

AND HE IMMEDIATELY SHIFTS HIS WHOLE ASS ATTENTION TO YOU

god, teenager in love ‼️

he doesn’t really want to abandon what he’s doing rn as gyuvin does so he just

divides the attention 💯

…

sits you on his lap

OR SOMETIMES EVEN ON HIS DESK 😭

holds you by ur waist and just simply

plants kisses all over your cheeks

do I need to say his members r kinda disappointed ?? ☠️

hi i need a cute boyfie rn 💔

한 yujin.

okay so

there’s a lot of things yujin would let you do without you noticing it’s a “privilege”

because he wouldn’t complain if others did those things too ??

i mean like … its yujin so

but when YOU do these …

he encourages u so much 😭

ong…

im so serious … ‼️

“yujin can i try your food ?? it looks so good” ricky asked waving his chopsticks at yujins face

“oh… yeah go for it, i guess” WITH THE BLANKEST STARE EVER LMAOO

PLS TRY TO SEE IT WITH UR IMAGINSTION

“yujin! can i see your necklaces? it’s so cute!”

YUJIN IS SO SO XONFUSED

“oh… well… yeah”

now imagine you doing it 😭

“can i try some of your food, yujin ??”

HIS EYES IMMEDIATELY LIGHT UP ‼️

“yes! this here is rice with chicken and sour sauce and these ones there are some fried vegetables! eat as much as you want, cutie!”

okay yujin… 😭 not THAT serious babe

“yujin, my sweet! can i see your necklace?”

SO SO IN LOVE

“of course! i can help you put it on if you want to! you’d look so good in it!”

bae is so cute

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 x reader #zb1 headcanons #zb1 reactions #zb1 misc #boys planet reactions #boys planet headcanons #boys planet x reader #zb1 imagines #kim jiwoong #zhang hao #sung hanbin #kim gyuvin #han yujin #kim taerae #park gunwook #ricky shen #boys planet

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unashamedly-enthusiastic · 10 months

Note

pls give adhd tips that have worked for you 🤲

Oh I do not think we can say that ANY of the way I live this life is recommended, but:

✨ Attitude ✨

I blamed myself a lot for not 'bucking up' or "buckling down" or "just doing it"

It never improved anything and it makes me sad. I stopped doing that and I achieve the same about of shit but I'm happier

💩 Boring tasks 💩

It is simply not a choice between "get it done properly right now" and "get it done half arsed at a weird time while wearing a silly little hat, singing a silly little song and rewarding yourself with a silly little sticker"

Its either half arsed or it's not done, so I'm half arsing it. My apologies that your task is boring as shit, I did what I could to make it bearable and you'll be thankful that I did that (me to me about the dishes)

🔊 Sound 🔊

I have a bell in my keys so when I think 'do I have my keys tho' for the 50th time I can just shoggle my jacket and know they're in there

I set a 30min audiobook timer, I can tidy because I can't watch anything because someone's talking, when it ends I can guilt free stop or I can ego boost keep going, but doing it often enough means sometimes I finish BEFORE THE TIMER (unmatched smugness)

I sing the "got my (something) got my (that thing) got my (thiiiing)" song while pating important things like dog lead poop bags headphones before I leave the house

Work video conferencing filters out background music, you can just play tunes all day and it makes 'tell me when you can see my screen" silences bearable

🦄 One little thing 🦄

Every work day I set myself one task I WILL do today, it needs to be no more than 20mins with no pre work

No matter what happens that day I can take 15 and achieve one actual small useful thing and if I do I put a little "good job" sticker on my to do list notepad.

I am both the struggling student and the teacher cheering her on. I have the power to buy £1 unicorn rainbow motivational stickers and by God I will use that power to email Ken from statistics

#There is more #But this is getting very long #My sister got her adhd diagnosed #And I was like #Oh fuck babes #You are the normal one of the 3 of us #And she was like I KNOW #If she's got it I must be RIDDLED with it #Adhd #Adhd tips #I found my ask box!

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kilistina · 1 year

Note

hiii just wanted to say i love ur posts so much. ur so good at writing pls never stop😫 i just finished reading punk 57 and the whole “tell me something true” line has me in a CHOKEHOLD. pls pls pls write about assholery being cold and distant with y/n out of nowhere even though they’re friends. can the reader be fem and have bunny as a nickname too? it’s been on my miiind and i just know you’ll write it to perfection <33

i fucking ADORE this suggestion sm. whoever you are, message me pls bc i wanna rack your brain for more lmao

lmk if you wanna be tagged in part 2 when—if—it comes out <3 i hope y’all enjoy this part though bc it’s truly one of my favourites so far.

i recommend listening to these two songs while reading: wet dream - wetleg, desire - meg myers

•••

dirty dancing. pt1

word count: 4.4k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. brief coke mention—in passing, includes fem! reader n harry styles, bold ass language, kinda slow burn but not really, some sexy dancing ig n aaaangst. enjoy my whores <3

•••

Things have been weird with Harry for a while now. You’re not exactly sure how or why the rift even started, but it did. And it’s only been getting worse.

You’ve been friends for what—two years now? Never too close, but close enough to be able to communicate about any issues you’ve had with each other. You and Harry don’t really argue, he’s not the confrontational type. Not with you, anyway. And not when he’s sober.

You aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation either. When things get too heated or overwhelming, you cry. It embarrasses you—being unable to handle your emotions. You know that you’re only human, and you’d never judge someone else for crying in the middle of an argument, but because it’s you, because you know yourself so well, you judge yourself over it. Weird pattern, but hey, it’s real.

Right now, you’re out at a bar with your friends—the same group you’ve been hanging around since high school. Mitch and Sarah have been highschool sweethearts for as long as you can remember, they’re like the parents of the group. The cool parents. The parents everyone secretly wishes they could have. Niall and Lewis are attached at the hip, too—platonically. Been best friends since the day they met.

You’re the closest with Niall since you’ve been living with him through college, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You have other girlfriends but they’re not as close to you as Niall and Sarah are. Sarah’s like a diamond you’ve always loved. They all are. They’ve always been by your side when you needed them—Harry included. You got lucky, sure. Not everybody has the luxury of picking the good ones before college and life gets in the way.

The bar is slowly coming to life. People who came for a meal are leaving, and people in the mood for a night of drinking and dancing are all piling in. You’re excited. It’s been way too long since you’ve let loose. You’ve been too stumped with work and college lately, you’ve barely had any time to breathe without someone breathing right there with you. And of course, you enjoy the company of others. But when you have to be sober for it all? Eh.

Harry’s similar to you in that sense. He loves socialising. Absolutely adores it. He’s an extrovert. But after weeks of constant company, he gets burnt out. The only thing that helps toughen the blow is alcohol. Or coke, but he’s stopped that for a while now.

You prop your elbows up on the edge of the bar and lean against it, looking around for the bartender. He has his back to you, mixing someone else’s drink. You clear your throat and he turns his head to the side, catching sight of you and nodding his head to let you know he’ll be a moment. You nod back and wait, turning to face your friends.

“Anyone wanna shot with me?” You arch a brow at your five friends, and they all smirk and nod their heads. Harry included. “We all good for a vodka?”

Everyone nods a second time in response, and you turn back to face the bartender.

“What can I do for you, gorgeous?” He shoots you a warm smile.

“Five shots of vodka, please.” You smile back at him and he nods.

“Straight?”

“No, gay,” You murmur a witty reply and he laughs, beginning to fill five shot glasses for you. You swear you can hear Harry coughing back a laugh from behind you too, but you don’t pay him any attention.

You double tap your phone’s off switch, activating the apple pay, and you hold it up to pay for your drinks.

“No need, beautiful,” The bartender holds his hand up, “This round’s on me.”

You shrug, exhaling dramatically, “I won’t try and convince you to let me pay.”

“I wouldn’t let you try.” The attractive bartender plays along, smirking at you.

You mouth a quick thank you to him and he gives you one final wink before turning his attention to the small group of girls next to you, catering to them now. You grab the shot glasses off the counter and hand them out to everyone, and you all hold them up and clink them together before downing them in seconds.

“Fuck,” Sarah sticks her tongue out as if that’s going to help the taste in her mouth, “Never gets easier does it?”

“Doesn’t need to,” Niall grins proudly, setting his shot glass down on the counter, “You’re just weak.”

“Yeah we fuckin’ get it, you’re an Irish heavyweight. We should all bow down at your feet, you’re a king and we’re peasants who can’t handle a measly shot.” Lewis rolls his eyes and pretends to worship him.

Niall frowns in confusion, “Who you calling a heavyweight?”

Harry snorts at the two men bickering. They’re like two peas in a pod, and typically, people who are so close tend to argue every now and then.

The group has that dynamic. Sarah and Mitch, Niall and Lewis, you and Harry? You’re not sure if you and Harry count. You’re not as close as the others. You wouldn’t call him a best friend. A friend, yes. A good friend? That’s pushing it, but still, yes. A best friend? No.

It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be closer. You’ve just never really been given the chance. Harry’s always kept a safe distance from you. You’ve hardly ever spent time alone, always speaking and engaging with each other the most when others are around to witness it. Sure, a part of you wishes that Harry would pay you more attention, but the other part of you doesn’t think he deserves it. If he wanted to, he would, right?

“And aren’t you Irish too?” Niall questions Lewis, continuing on with their unserious bickering.

“Yeah like a third,” Lewis shrugs, “From my dad’s side, but you already knew th—stop deflecting. Y/N, tell him to stop deflecting from how much of a cock he is.” He points towards you and tries to get you involved.

You giggle and shrug your shoulders, “You are a bit of a cock sometimes, Ni.”

“Both of you can suck me, honestly. I’m fuckin’ great.” Niall flicks his hair dramatically and you and Lewis snicker.

“I’m with Niall,” Harry lightly nudges Niall’s chest with his elbow, joining in on the joke, “Both of you can suck him.”

“You fucking weirdos,” Mitch shakes his head at the lot of you, not surprised in the slightest by your antics, “Miss Jones and I are gonna go dance, you lot can either keep bickering or come join us. Choice is yours.”

With that, they both head for the dance floor together, holding their hands in the air and laughing.

“I’m joining those twats,” Lewis gestures to them, looking at the rest of you, “You three game?”

Niall nods, “Course. Harry, Y/N?”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” You nod towards the bar, “I feel like some more drinks.”

Everyone’s attention shifts to Harry. He clears his throat as he thinks for a moment, “Yeah, me too. Be there in a bit.”

Lewis and Niall both nod at Harry and beeline for the dance floor, already beginning to bicker again on the way. You giggle at the sight of them and shake your head, turning to face the bar again. Harry joins you, standing by your side. Neither of you look at each other, you keep your eyes in front of you at the neat array of liquor set along the counter.

“Nice night, don’t you think?” You break the awkward silence threatening to form between the two of you.

You catch sight of Harry nodding his head, “Always a nice night with this lot.”

Dry as fuck. You might not be close with Harry, but you aren’t stupid. You know the way he speaks to people, you’ve seen it. Harry could have an hour long conversation with a tree. But with you, it seems like a fucking chore.

You want to scoff. You want to scoff at how fucking childish Harry’s acting with you. Why can’t he look at you or have a normal conversation with you?

You sigh, not wanting to overreact over such a minor reply and ruin the night for yourself. Although Harry seems to be doing a decent job of that himself.

“Can’t argue with that.” You murmur.

“Mhm.” Harry murmurs and you wait a beat for him to say something else, anything else.

He doesn’t.

That’s it.

“I feel like I don’t know you.” Your words spill out before you can stop them.

Harry’s taken by surprise. He turns to face you. Now he’s looking, at least. “Sorry?”

“I feel like I don’t know you.” You sigh, repeating yourself.

“What is there to know?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, gesturing to the bartender that he wants a glass of something.

“You tell me, Harry Styles.”

He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair, “Y/N, what are you trying to get at here?”

You shrug, “I dunno, I feel like I click with everyone else. I’ve got a connection with everyone, H. Everyone but you.” Your words come out harsher than you intended. You’d feel a little guilty if they weren’t true. But they are.

“That was unnecessary.” Harry murmurs so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

“You asked me a question and I answered it.” You stand your ground, sick of Harry’s half-assed efforts to conversing with you. You’re a catch, your friendship is amazing, and you’re great to talk to. What the hell is Harry’s problem?

He laughs, scoffing at you in disbelief, “Fuck, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”

You almost choke on your own saliva, “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N. I called you a bitch. Because that’s what you are half the time when shit doesn’t go your way.” Harry doesn’t know where this is all coming from, but it’s coming.

He doesn’t mean it, obviously. He’d never mean that. He doesn’t think you’re a bitch. Again, never. But he’s angry. He’s angry and you’re angry and you’re both speaking without thinking it through properly and you’re both making an absolute mess of the situation and each other—

“What the fuck?” You stare at Harry in shock, your eyes wide with disgust.

He’s confused by your offended reaction, “What, are you surprised or something? Come on, Bunny. You know better than that.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass,” You scold him, “We used to get along. We used to be closer. We’ve never been as close as the others but at least we used to speak. At least I was able to walk into a room knowing you were there and look forward to it.”

His face relaxes at your words. He knows you mean well. You’ve both been hotheaded for a moment but now you seem to be calming down. You’re bringing your point across well and he can’t fault you for it.

“But what now? What fuckin’ now, H? You never speak to me when we’re alone, and then when you finally do, it’s this. It’s an attack on my character. Does this shit get you off or something?”

Never mind.

Harry scoffs at your sudden change in tone, feeling agitated again, “Fuck you.”

You slam your hand on the counter, “Fuck you, Harry!”

He glares at you as you continue scolding him, “What the hell are we even doing here? Go spend time with your actual friends.”

“Hey, wait a second. What?” He leans his head to the side in confusion, not knowing what you mean, “We’ve known each other for years, Bunny.”

“I don’t know a single thing about you.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your—“

“Where’s my favourite place to eat?” Harry cuts you off with a question. A question that you know the answer to.

 “That’s not—”

“Where do I go when I’m upset?” Again, another question you can answer.

“Harry—”

“How did I get the scar on my chin?” That’s a special question. You gave it to him the day you met.

You sigh, knowing where he’s going with this. He’s not understanding what you’re trying to tell him and it infuriates you.

You tap the tips of your fingers on the countertop, feeling anxious, “That’s not what I—”

“You do know me, Y/N. we don’t need to speak every two seconds or braid each other’s hair to know each other well.”

Your eyes begin to prick with tears. That isn’t what you meant and he knows that.

“That’s not what I meant.” You lower your voice as it threatens to crack.

“Then what did you mean, Bunny?” He crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting on an explanation.

You groan, throwing your head in your hands.

The truth is, you can explain. You can explain everything you’re feeling well. But is that going to get you anywhere right now? Maybe. Maybe not. You have a better idea.

“Do you consider me a friend?”

Harry’s face drops. You can tell that he’s upset and borderline offended that you’re even asking that question.

Of course you’re friends. You’ve been friends for years. He adores you. Why can’t you see that he adores you?

“Bunny..” He takes a step towards you, and you take one back.

“Do you?” You insist on getting a solid answer.

“Of course I consider you a fr—”

“Don’t lie.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m not—”

“Tell me something real, Harry. Please. God, please just tell me something that isn’t base level for once,” You beg, “Tell me something true.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s taken back. He wasn’t expecting that from you at all.

He stays silent.

“You can’t, can you?” You scoff at him, not knowing why you expected anything to come from this conversation. You should’ve known better than to be hopeful about how things were going to go with Harry..because it’s Harry, “I don’t know why I thought you’d—“

“I still smoke cigarettes.” Harry cuts you off, blurting out an admission. He tenses his jaw in realisation—he’s just as shocked as you are.

Oh.

Your eyes widen at his confesion. Harry’s been gloating to everyone about how he so easily quit smoking three months ago. You’re all so proud of him, considering how difficult it is to quit something cold turkey the way he did. The rest of you haven’t been able to shake the bad habit. Apparently, neither has he.

“You do?” You question.

He nods, “Less. But I do.”

“Why?”

He almost smiles at your question, “Why do I smoke?”

“Why did you lie about it?”

He sighs, looking down as he answers you, “Everyone’s got something, right? Sarah and Mitch have their relationship, Niall has his singing, Lewis has his stand-up every Friday, you have your double degree. I just wanted something that everyone could be proud of. Felt like something small like that would’ve been manageable to keep hidden from everyone.”

You frown, “Harry..”

“No,” He shakes his head, refusing to let you feel sorry for him, “No. Seriously, no. We’re not about to do pity. That’s not what we do with each other.”

“Okay,” You clear your throat and agree to let it go, grabbing a now filled shot glass and handing it over to him, “Drink?”

He smirks at you, silently thanking you as he reaches forward and takes the shot glass from you.

“Sorry for calling you a bitch.” He murmurs, offering you a small, sincere smile.

You give him one back, “Sorry for being one.”

His small smile turns into a grin.

“To the truth.” You hold your glass up to cheers his with.

“To the fuckin’ truth.”

You both down your shots and tap them down on the counter to gesture for the bartender to refill them. He complies and neither of you waste a second to down the next ones. Over and over, shot after shot, you continue to drink until you’re buzzed.

You’re both good at handling your liquor, and you know how much you can take. By the time you’re done with your shots, you’re over the moon. Buzzed and aware. Aware of what you feel, aware of where you are, aware of who you’re with. Aware.

Harry leans down, his face dangerously close to yours. He’s never been this close, you don’t think. You’ve never seen his face so clearly, you’ve never seen his chest tattoos so well, his necklace dangling, his—

“Should we go dance with the others now, you think?” He speaks into your ear and you feel your stomach beginning to erupt with nerves.

“Yeah,” You inhale sharply, nodding, “Sure.”

Harry grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, keeping a hold of you even when you reach where your friends are. The contact is strange but you welcome it, liking the new barrier that’s being broken between the two of you.

Over the years, you’ve noticed how touchy he can get when he’s under the influence, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into. You like being on the receiving end for once. You could get used to this side of Harry. You like being his friend. His real friend.

Once you get to where the others are, you quickly gauge what they’re all doing. Mitch and Sarah are in their own little world as usual, dancing together as if it’s their wedding night. Niall’s dancing with a random girl he’s probably going home with later tonight and Lewis is making a fool of himself in the middle of them. Ah, friendship. You love to see it.

“Nice song, yeah?” Harry leans over to your ear, speaking over the music. The song playing is one of your all time favourites—Wet Dream by WetLeg.

Anyone who knows you, knows the way you feel about this song. It’s become tradition to play it everytime you carpool. A fine tradition, you think.

“Oh, the best.” You start bopping your head to the beat of the song, singing along with the lyrics you know and love.

“I was in your wet dream driving in my caaar, saw you at the side of the road, there’s no one else around you’re touching yourself, touching yourself—“ You start yelling out the words along with everyone else on the dance floor, shaking your head side to side and dramatising every word. Harry watches you and smirks, letting you have your moment.

“You said—“

You’re about to keep singing the next part when he beats you to it, “Baby do you want to come home with me? I got Buffalo ‘66 on dvd!”

You let out a surprised laugh at the fact that Harry even knows the words to the song, loving that you’re seeing this side to him. You’d never expect to have something as simple as loving a song like this in common, but here you are.

Beam me up—beam me up!

Count me in—count me in!

Three, two, one—three, two, one!

Let's begin!

The song continues and you realise that you’ve both been staring at each other for a good ten seconds in silence, just taking in the sight of each other. Harry really is beautiful. The way his hair hangs perfectly below his shoulders. The way his dimples show at the smallest hint of a smile. The way his eyes burn into yours. You never want to see anything else. Just him. Just Harry.

“I was in your wet dream, driving in my caaaar!” Harry’s voice breaks you out of your daydream, and you laugh as he grabs your hands, dancing with you to the beat of the song.

“What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?” You continue the song and he pretends to be shocked, acting out the song with you.

“You climb onto the bonnet and you’re licking the windscreen! I’ve never seen anything so obscene!” You both sing the next part together, leaning in close to each other’s faces and practically screaming with the biggest smiles on your faces, “It’s enough! To make a girl blush! It’s enough! It’s enough to make a girl blush!”

The rest of the song plays and you both continue to scream out every word, making the most of the moment you’re having and hoping it never ends. Neither of you are sure what’s going on but neither of you are complaining. You’re both witnessing a new side to each other and you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you were made to be best friends like the others. Maybe it was meant to happen like this.

The song eventually comes to an end and you both let out a deep sigh, catching your breath for a moment as another random song plays.

Harry looks down at you with parted lips, “Nice singing, Bunny.”

“Could say the same to you, H.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The move is natural and you don’t put too much thought into it. Neither does Harry.

His hands find their way to your waist and you both sway in time with the music, singing the lyrics into each other’s faces and having the time of your lives.

“I haven’t had sex in 5 months!” His voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

He leans closer to your face, “I said—I said I haven’t had—”

“No I—I heard you H,” You chuckle, “I’m just a little—”

“Surprised? Yeah me too.” He grins at you, suddenly seeming to be completely comfortable with you in a way you never expected, “I stole that chocolate bar from you last week by the way, it wasn’t Niall.”

You laugh for a moment at his strange confessions until you process what he just told you, “Wait that was you?”

 “Loud ‘n proud, bunny.” He grins proudly.

“You—you fucker!” You gasp, playfully hitting his chest with one of your hands, keeping the other where it was around his neck.

 He chuckles, playing along, “Did you forget what I just—”

“Shut up!”

You both laugh, continuing to move your bodies together.

“What about you? Tell me something true.”

You purse your lips together, trying to come up with something to tell Harry. There’s a million things you could tell him, but you want to catch him off guard. You want to see an honest, raw reaction from him.

“I think you’re really pretty.” You finally say, shrugging your shoulders.

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, unsure if you’re being serious. “Pretty?”

You nod.

He tilts his head for a moment, “Weird choice of words.”

“I don’t think so,” You smile at him, “You’re a pretty boy.”

He smiles back, “You’re a pretty bunny.”

“We’re pretty.”

“We are.”

You both smile at each other and share a brief moment. A moment of what—you’re not sure. Two friends being supportive of each other? Two friends suddenly becoming closer and making the most of it? Two friends two friends two friends—

The next song begins playing and your heart begins to pace more. Desire, Meg Myers.

The two of you exchange a look, knowing that you won’t move together to this song the same way you have been for the others.

You know that you won’t be singing along with this one. You’d rather feel it. Feel Harry.

You move your hands away from around Harry’s neck, and he keeps his on your waist, holding you close. You move your hands down and place them over his, feeling electric all of a sudden.

Baby, I wanna fuck you

I wanna feel you in my bones

The song is loud and the coloured lights are flashing red. The atmosphere has changed—not only in the bar and on the dance floor, but between you and Harry. The way he’s looking at you is different. The way you’re looking at him is different. The way he’s touching you is different. The way you’re touching him is different.

I’m gonna tear into your soul

You begin to sway your hips to the beat of the song, holding your eyes over Harry’s. Neither of you dare to look away. You wouldn’t dream of it.

How do you want me?

You begin to turn your body in time with the music, turning your back to Harry. He leans his head down, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his hands by your waist as you continue to move against each other. You feel a surge of confidence—you’re not sure if it’s the song, if it’s the alcohol, if it’s Harry’s random confessions, if it’s the feelings you’ve been suppressing from him for years—but it’s here. It’s here and you’re about to make the most of it.

Yeah I gotta hurt you, I gotta hear it from your mouth

Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue

I’m gonna kill you

You lean your ass back, moving it against Harry’s crotch. He sucks in a breath, and the only way you know it is because you feel his teeth graze the skin of your bare shoulder. Your eyes close at the feeling and you grow bolder, moving the same way a second time.

He tightens his grip on your waist. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your ass and you can only imagine how much it’s straining against the band of his jenas. You almost pity him. Almost.

I wanna feel you

I want it all

I wanna feel you

I want it all

You continue moving against Harry, enjoying his little reactions to your touch. To the way you feel. He begins trailing kisses down your neck, applying pressure and sucking on your skin. You still. You can’t focus on anything but the way his lips feel against you.

What’s going on between you both? What the fuck is happening? Why the fuck has it taken so long? Why couldn’t it happen sooner?

So many questions.

“Bunny,” Harry groans against your shoulder, placing one last kiss to your neck before moving his mouth to your ear, “Tell me something true.”

You know exactly what you want to say. Again, there’s so much you want to tell him. You want to tell him how good he feels against you, how much you love the way he moves his body against yours. You want to tell him that you feel the connection now. You want to tell him that you know he can feel it too. There’s so much to say, but you settle for the most simple thing. The most important one.

“I want you.”

•••

aaahhhh!!! i’m sososo proud of this one. idk why but this shot has a special place in my heart. the smut will be included in the second part. and believe me, it’s gonna be SMUT. i’m such a whore for angst n this friendship trope is just chef’s kiss.

anyway enough chat. i hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 if you liked what you read then please reblog n comment. feel free to suggest ideas for new posts too.

have a good day or night wherever you are n stay safe, always <3

- k

532 notes · View notes

lunamochii · 2 months

Text

a/n ; hello guys! I just keep on disappearing on this platform geez😭 anyways here's angst/fluff akaashi! There's also a suna one coming up, requested by a reader!

11:55

cw; angst/fluff, pls expect spelling and grammatical errors, x f!reader.

likes, reblogs with tags and feedbacks are highly recommended!

"Let's go on a date. My treat."

Excited is not the right word for what you are feeling right now, Akaashi seldom ask you out on a date ever since you started dating 4 months ago. His busy and you know it that you don't bother asking for small things. Being able to see him whenever they have a practice match is enough for him.

"That's a wide smile you got there, boyfriend things?"

You laugh at the remark of your friend and nodded

"Yeah, Akaashi ask me out on a date!"

She rolled her eyes and sat on your desk

"And what? He will text you that he got caught up from practice and is unable to come?"

"It was one time, okay?"

"Yeah, right."

You poke her side making her jump down from your desk and glare at you, she's ticklish on the side and totally hates it when you poke her. You shoo'd her away since the class is about to start but your friend's word lingers around and you did your best to forget it.

You're standing at the front of your school building, lifting your wrist to have a look at your wrist and saw it's already 5:30 but you can wait for a little bit more. Though the sky is looking rather dark. Grabbing your phone from your bag to text Akaashi where he is

You; Akaashi, where are you? I'm waiting for you infront of the school building.

A minute passed and you receive his reply

Akaashi; I'm so sorry, love. Coach wants us to stay a little bit longer. Let's set the date on the other day.

You can feel something deep inside but you just sigh and type out your reply

You; Sure! See you then.

After hitting the send you didn't bothet looking at his reply and went straight home. You lay on your bed starring at the wall then remembered the words of your friend, you curled up into a ball and reassured yourself that this won't sway your relationship with him.

"____! I'm sorry for yesterday. Today, let's hang out?"

Akaashi spotted you at the cafeteria and excuse himself from the people his with

"Okay, I'll wait at the front."

You smiled and squeeze his hands before letting go and catching up with your friends. Afternoon came and you are back standing at the front of your building. This time, the sky was ruthless and it's raining cats and dogs. Your phone dings and you take a look who's it from

Akaashi; Hey, love. Don't wait for me because coach wants us to study some new moves and strategies. I'm so sorry :(

The grip you have on your phone is tight and there's this grueling feeling bubbling up inside you.

You; Sure, no problem.

Akaashi on the other hand knows that his being a complete jerk but he just can't leave his responsibilities too on his club. Not with the nationals around the corner. He already notes that after the national, he won't leave your side.

The next day Akaashi got the news that they don't have any practices today so he plan the date you guys will be having after school except you didn't show up. He went to your classroom only to be greeted by a harsh tone from your friend

"Are you a sadist? She's way too good for you, Akaashi. Be direct and tell her that you want to breakup."

And Akaashi didn't like one bit the words that came out from your friend's mouth

"Where is she?"

"Who knows? Though, I sure hope he finds someone better than you."

After school Akaashi went to your house right away but the one who answered the door is your father who looked a bit disappointed

"Is.. Is she home?"

He stuttered, fiddling with his hands then he heard your father sigh

"She's in the living room. Keiji, I like you for my daughter. Two days, she's been crying silently for two days. It hurts me to see her cry so please... take good care of her."

He felt his breath get stuck on his throat and all he could do is nod

"I'll leave you two alone."

Your father tap his shoulder and left the door open for him, Akaashi put his shoes on the side and slowly walk towards the living room. He cleared his throat to get your attention and you barely look at him

"What? Are you here to tell me to hang out with you then left me hanging?"

Your words cut deep and he hang his head low then he notice you standing up and stood infront of him.

"Tell me, Keiji. Did you date me because you took pity of me that day or you agreed because you really do like me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Answer me!"

He lift his head and saw your tears threatening to drop

"Ofcouse it's because I like you! I love you more than anything!"

You exhaled and held his hand, whenever he starts to get nervous Akaashi will fiddle with his hands. You bring it close to your lips and kiss his hands on the knuckles

"If you have said that you pity me then I'd have let you go."

The action just now made his heart race that he lost control of his own body and crash his lips to yours. His gym bag dropping at the floor, strong arms wrap around you. Akaashi decides to just forget everything and just decides to pour all of his unsaid thoughts and words on this kiss his sharing with you

"I can't breath- Kei-"

"Shh, let me make it up to you."

You should be irritated on what he just said but seeing his ears red and how his barely having any control to himself, you know it's best to let him. He sat down on the couch and he pat his lap, you sat down and he wrap one arm around your waist and rest hid other hand at the back of your head and resumes the kiss

After some long minutes of making out, Akaashi pulled away and rest his head at the crook of your neck.

"If you would have let me go, I won't let you. I will get down on my knees and beg for you to love me back." He said softly

"Dummy.."

He laughs and press a sweet kiss on your neck, you two cuddled on the couch. He told you that their coach is letting them rest for the whole week so they'll have enough energy during nationals.

"I'm sorry for treating you poorly. I won't ever do it again, mark my word. If I ever did it, again, let your dad beat me up."

"Akaashi!"

There's a strange bond that your boyfriend and your dad shared and it all started when you introduced him to your dad.

"Akaashi? You were calling me Keiji moments ago."

"It slip off my tongue, Akaashi"

"Keiji. Call me Keiji.'

"No."

He pout his lips and you just laugh at him, he rest his palm on your tummy and began showering your face with kisses

"Stop- hahahaha stop it!"

"I won't."

His hands move at your neck and began tickling you there, his the only one who knows that you're ticklish on that spot

"Aahhh!! Stop! Fine, fine! Keiji pleaseeee!!"

"That's more like it, good girl."

He kiss your forehead before letting your head rest on his shoulders

"Your dad told me that you've been crying for two days... am such a jerk."

"It's okay now. I knew we would get through it anyways."

You look at him and he smiles softly at you, Akaashi leans forward to catch your lips and once again you two shared a passionate kiss that the both of you didn't notice the door opening, your dad returning.

"Holy-"

"Dad/Sir!"

"I did say to take care of her but aren't you guys too fast?"

You shot up from his lap and Akaashi stood awkwardly at your side

"To be young again~ just make sure I won't hear you guys on my room~"

"We won't be doing anything!"

Your dad just wave at the both of you and went upstairs, you let out a sigh and grab the bag of Akaashi and turn around only to find him fidgeting and hiding something..

"Keiji?"

"I- It was involuntary!"

Your eyes drop down to where his hands and you burst out laughing

"Stop laughing, baby! Fuck- can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure but don't you want my help?"

"No thanks! Love you though!

He hurriedly run past by you and left you laughing at him.

There was a doubt in your heart when you ask him that question but Akaashi prove to you how much he loves you. Actions do speak louder than words.

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