#sorry this is so late i kept on being busy and procrastinating on it

[project-sekai-facts]

What is the Tree of Feelings SEKAI?

The Tree of Feelings SEKAI (often called the Tree SEKAI within the fandom, and for the rest of this post) is a mysterious SEKAI that first appears in Miku's Where Feelings Come Together Colorful Festival story, although it reappears in the Sakura Across SEKAI, Interconnecting Our Feelings and Let Your Song Resonate Throughout SEKAI! events.

The SEKAI isn't actually a proper SEKAI, but actually a Fragment SEKAI: it appears in response to shared feelings and will disappear again once those have been resolved. Additionally, it can be accessed through a Fragment of Feelings, the same way you would enter a Fragment SEKAI. Although, some characters are shown to be forcibly teleported there by their phones, something which has never been shown with other Fragment SEKAI so far.

However, whose Fragment SEKAI is this? It first appears in Miku's Colorful Festival story, so it must be hers, right? Well, not exactly.

Miku's Where Feelings Come Together story starts off in Shibuya, with Ichika watching a PV for an upcoming Virtual Singer fan festival (the one she later attends in the Scramble Fan FESTA! event). She considers participating in the festival with Leo/need, and her train of thought runs to Miku in the School SEKAI. Meanwhile, Kohane and Minori are out shopping together, and watch the same PV. Minori comments on how cute Miku is and how she sparkles on stage, thinking of her own Miku. Kohane, on the other hand, says that she likes it when Miku looks really cool, also with her own Miku in mind. At the same time, Kanade is walking home after visiting her dad, and sees the same PV. She's reminded that she wanted to pick up a Virtual Singer CD, and how she never would've been interested in Miku had it not been for the Empty SEKAI.

Between the SEKAI, Miku's base form senses warm and gentle feelings gathering, and starts to realise that something is happening, but doesn't reveal what it is.

In the Wonderland SEKAI, Tsukasa is trying to find Miku, since she promised to help him with rehearsals. He thinks back to his first meeting with the Virtual Singers, and how helpful they ended up being to the point he frequently visits the SEKAI now. After deciding that he should show them his appreciation, a ball of light appears, taking him to a mysterious SEKAI, the Tree SEKAI.

As it turns out, Ichika, Minori, Kohane and Kanade were also teleported to the Tree SEKAI, although in their cases, it was because their phone flashed, similarly to how they (excluding Kanade) were first introduced to the SEKAI during the main story. While they all try to explain to each other how they got there, Miku reveals herself to the others (and confirms that Tsukasa was transported via a Fragment of Feelings).

Miku explains that the Tree SEKAI came to be because of the intertwined feelings of the five. She explains that it isn't quite ready to become a full-fledged SEKAI yet, outright confirming that it is a Fragment SEKAI. She adds that the SEKAI is filled with warmth that has a certain someone in mind, and asks what the five were thinking about before coming to the Tree SEKAI. They realise that they were all thinking about Miku, or their respective Mikus, and in response, Miku beckons them all over to the tree.

In the tree, all of them find items belonging to them. Kanade finds sheet music for her songs, Kohane finds flyers for STAY GOLD and RAD WEEKEND, Tsukasa finds the script for Pegasus Odyssey, the first show he wrote for Wonderlands x Showtime, and Minori finds a promotional photo for MORE MORE JUMP! that she had Kohane take after the group was formed. Ichika then finds the wish plaques that she and the other members of Leo/need wrote at New Years, as well as some of her sheet music and lyrics. Miku concludes that the tree must be a wishing tree of sorts, made from their feelings together, as well as their hopes and dreams.

Ichika then questions how the fact they were all thinking of Miku connects to this tree. Miku explains that they - the Mikus from each SEKAI, and not just this Miku - want the feelings of the people they watch over to keep growing and moving forward. So the Wishing Tree isn't just their tree, it's also Mikus' tree, nurtured by their hopes and dreams for everyone.

Everyone was able to find their true feelings thanks to a Miku, and as a result the tree was able to flourish. Miku thanks the five for placing their trust in "her", but the five agree that they should be the ones thanking her. The SEKAI begins to disappear once they have exchanged thanks, and Miku explains that since this is not a full SEKAI yet, it will return to being a Fragment. However, it won't be gone forever, and one day, when the sapling becomes a fully grown tree, they might be able to...

The five return to where they were before, with no memory of what happened.

We actually learn a lot about the SEKAI from just this card story despite it being its first appearance. We know that despite the fact that there are several SEKAI in existence, this one was born from the shared feelings specifically between the people connected to the School, Stage, Street, Wonderland, and Empty SEKAI, as well as the base form of Miku who exists between SEKAI. Even though the SEKAI is currently only in a Fragment state, it can grow into a full SEKAI from there. Interestingly, it was confirmed in Miku's Street SEKAI 2* that SEKAI grow over time, and this new information heavily suggests that all SEKAI actually can be accessed prior to fully forming via a Fragment of Feeling (for example, the five main SEKAI in the game may possibly have been accessible prior to their full formation, although as far as we know, this didn't happen).

The second time the Treet SEKAI appears is in the Virtual Singer-focused event, Sakura Across SEKAI, Interconnecting Our Feelings. This time, only the first Virtual Singers to appear in each of the five main SEKAI go to the Tree SEKAI though.

In the Empty SEKAI, the N25 members are talking about cherry blossoms with Miku, Rin, MEIKO, and Luka. The group offers to show the cherry blossoms to the Virtual Singers, although it won't be the same as seeing them in person since they will only be able to see them in their hologram forms. Miku then decides to see if there are cherry blossoms in the SEKAI, since Mafuyu's feelings have made other things appear there before. While she doesn't find anything due to the SEKAI being, well, empty, she realises that she's happy that the SEKAI still feels more lively than it did before, and that she wants to continue supporting Mafuyu. As she thinks to herself, a Fragment of Feelings appears, and transports her to the Tree SEKAI.

Meanwhile, in the Stage SEKAI, MORE MORE JUMP! helps the Virtual Singers brainstorm for their next performance. Once a spring theme is chosen, Rin decides that she wants to include falling cherry blossom petals in their concert. Everyone looks across the various stages to try and find a cherry blossom tree, but they don't have any luck. In the end, they opt for using pink lighting, so Rin goes backstage to find some lights. Rin hopes the show will go well after everything everyone has done to accommodate her cherry blossom idea, and happens to find a Fragment of Feelings at that moment.

In the Street SEKAI, MEIKO and Rin have made a new cherry blossom-themed spring menu for Crase Cafe. Vivid BAD SQUAD arrive, and discuss having a picnic under some cherry blossoms in An's neighbourhood, although this makes KAITO and Luka a bit jealous, since there are no cherry blossoms in the SEKAI. Meanwhile, Len wants to find a way to thank MEIKO and Rin for their hard work, so he tries to find a cherry blossom tree for them. He isn't able to find one, but does find a Fragment of Feelings. MEIKO walks out into the street just after he finds it, and it takes them both to the Tree SEKAI.

School SEKAI Luka finds herself already in the Tree SEKAI, and remembers finding a Fragment of Feelings on the school roof. She recalls that Leo/need and the Virtual Singers had been trying to find a cherry blossom tree for a picnic. They had been trying extra hard because cherry blossoms reminded them of Luka as well, and were disappointed that they couldn't find any. Wanting to support Leo/need and their feelings, Luka went to look for a cherry blossom tree herself, and that's how she ended up in the Tree SEKAI.

Finally in the Wonderland SEKAI, WonderlandsxShowtime are trying to create an effect of a cherry blossom petal shower for their next show. They want to use real petals, but there aren't any cherry blossoms in the SEKAI, and they don't want to use the petals from the singing flowers. In the end, Emu suggests taking some petals from the cherry blossom tree in her garden. KAITO is thankful that they're always bringing fun and interesting things over to SEKAI, and thinks of a way to repay them, deciding to look for a real chery blossom in the SEKAI. Whilst looking around, he finds the plushies. They say they have a gift for him, and present him with a Fragment of Feelings, transporting him to the Tree SEKAI.

In the Tree SEKAI, there are cherry blossom petals falling through the sky. Miku goes over to the tree to see if that's where they're coming from, and spots something sparkling on the tree. Rin spots the same sparkly things, identifying them as Minori and the others' feelings, before spotting feelings belonging to other people too. Len and MEIKO also spot that there are other feelings here, with MEIKO making the assumption that they are from other SEKAI. She also has a feeling that where they are isn't an ordinary SEKAI. Luka feels that there are other people in the SEKAI, although she can't see anyone else there. KAITO has the same feeling, but is happy that the tree is proof that everyone's feelings are growing.

Suddenly, there is a very strong wind, and Empty SEKAI Miku briefly sees the original Miku. Empty SEKAI Miku wonders if the original Miku has been watching over everyone's feelings the whole time. The SEKAI then starts to disappear.

The original Miku briefly appears again, commenting on her surprise at everyone being there. She concludes that their individual desires to help brought them all together, and wishes them luck in future.

When Rin returns to the Stage SEKAI, she is greeted by Len and MEIKO. She tells them that she briefly saw other versions of them, and MEIKO realises they must've been from other SEKAI, and adds that nothing like that has ever happened before. In Street SEKAI, MEIKO mentions having been able to see peoples' feelings through Fragments before, but never anything like that, and she wonders if the tree SEKAI is a sort of nexus between SEKAI. In School SEKAI, Luka says the same thing, wondering if that was some sort of special fragment. In the Wonderland SEKAI, KAITO realises that they must have all been brought to the same place because of their connected feelings, and realises that they must all want to help people very much.

This event reveals that the Tree SEKAI is also controlled by the feelings of the Virtual Singers from the five main SEKAI. Despite not being the actual reason they were brought together, they managed to create cherry blossom petals in the SEKAI because they were all looking for cherry blossoms. We also learn that this SEKAI can be accessed by any shared feelings between the five SEKAI. While the five human characters accessed it because they wanted to give thanks to Miku and original Miku wanted to thank them in return, the Virtual Singers accessed it because they all wanted to help the owners/inhabitants of their SEKAI.

The MEIKOs also bring up some interesting points. They say that this has never happened before, which tells us that in the multiple years of SEKAI existing, no group of people has ever had feelings this strong and intertwined. MEIKO's idea of the Tree SEKAI being a nexus, along with Luka wondering if it was a special sort of fragment, makes a lot more sense, and could suggest that the Tree SEKAI, is neither a Fragment SEKAI or a full SEKAI, but a mysterious third type.

Also both Luka and MEIKO mention having seen the feelings of the humans in their SEKAI through Fragments before, despite neither of them having appeared in a Colorful Festival story at this point, implying that there may be other Fragment SEKAI that the human characters never accessed.

The most recent appearance of the Tree SEKAI was in the second Virtual Singer-focused event, Let Your Song Resonate Throughout SEKAI! event. Although this time, things were a little different.

After everything that had happened in the past year, the Virtual Singers want to do something to support and encourage the owners of their respective SEKAI as they move forward in their journeys.

While all of them are discussing ideas and planning shows, the original Miku is watching over them from between SEKAI. She's then joined by the other original Virtual Singers, who were also curious about what's going on in the different SEKAI. Miku wishes she could do more to help the "them" in SEKAI who are trying hard to support the people in their SEKAI.

In the Stage SEKAI, Luka and the others are practising a special performance dedicated to MORE MORE JUMP!. Luka wants to keep trying harder because MMJ has always done the same and she wants to support them. At that moment, a Fragment of Feelings appears in front of her and teleports her away.

Meanwhile, in the Wonderland SEKAI, Miku and the others are rehearsing a play for WonderlandsxShowtime. Miku is so happy that the members of WxS were able to smile and chase their dreams together, that she's brought to tears. It's then that she hears a mysterious voice wish her luck. This voice was actually the original Miku, speaking to Wonderland Miku from between the SEKAI. She isn't sure how she was able to do it, but she wanted to support them all a lot and just said what she wanted to. The other Virtual Singers voice their agreement, and a Fragment of Feelings appears before them.

In the School SEKAI, Len is practising his singing so that he can perform for Leo/need. However, he can't quite get it to sound the same as when Miku sang with L/n at their concert. Miku explains that she wanted to support the girls and give them a push forwards, which Len keeps in mind. After Miku leaves, Len spots a Fragment of Feelings on a chair.

In the Empty SEKAI, Rin is singing Kanade's song to herself. Rin wants to be able to sing the same way as Miku can, the same way Miku was able to sing to Mafuyu and ease her loneliness. Nearby, Miku and Len approach MEIKO, trying to find Rin. MEIKO explains that Rin is focused on something else, and says that they should leave her alone. Once Miku and Len are gone, MEIKO joins in with Rin, although she doesn't think she can sing the same way Rin can. As they sing together, a Fragment of Feelings appears, and transports them to another SEKAI.

Back in the Wonderland SEKAI, Miku talks to KAITO about the voice she heard and the feeling of being watched. KAITO is able to relate to that, and says that it might be the other "them" cheering them on. This gets Miku excited, and she says that she wants to meet the other "them". And as luck may have it, a Fragment of Feelings appears.

This time we're somewhere slightly different though. It's never actually stated if this is the same as the Tree SEKAI or somewhere totally different, although it is a fairly similar landscape.

Wonderland Miku has a look at the fragments floating around, and spots the Wonderland SEKAI in one of them. Excited, she then has a look at the other fragments to see what SEKAI they contain.

The original Virtual Singers find themselves in the same mysterious place. KAITO reckons that the place is made of someone's feelings, and Rin concludes that it's a Fragment SEKAI, although they're not sure exactly what feelings it was made from, or whose SEKAI it is. The group then spots the floating fragments, and realises that this is a SEKAI that connects other SEKAI together. The group splits up to investigate some more, and end up running into "themselves".

The original Rin meets Empty SEKAI Rin, and asks if they can sing together because Empty Rin is such a beautiful singer. The original MEIKO joins Empty MEIKO at the same time, and thanks "herself" for always watching over N25.

Street SEKAI KAITO is here too, and runs into his original self. Street KAITO thinks "himself" is very cool, and admits he isn't really sure what he's doing here, but he's glad that they were able to meet. The original KAITO thanks Street KAITO for always working hard to help Vivid BAD SQUAD.

The Lens meet next. The original Len thinks School SEKAI Len's maturity and musical skills are really cool, and says that they both have to try their best in future. Then it's the Lukas turn. The original Luka thinks it's wonderful that Stage SEKAI Luka is able to bring hope to people as an idol, and says that she was able to give her hope too. Hearing these words, Stage Luka is motivated to try even harder.

Finally, it's the Mikus turn to meet. The original praises Wonderland Miku for her exciting shows that are able to make everyone smile. She believes that as long as Wonderland Miku is by everyone's side, everything will be fine, and she tells her to keep doing her best for them. Wonderland Miku asks to know more about the original Miku, but as soon as she starts to respond, the SEKAI begins to disappear.

This instance of the Tree SEKAI appearing actually leaves us with more questions that answers, and obviously the big question is if this is even the Tree SEKAI.

As mentioned, the appearance is fairly similar. Both SEKAI have a large field, and the sky is identical between the Tree SEKAI illustrations and Rin's Another Version of Me untrained 4* above. Aside from the lack of a tree, which could easily be excused by this possibly being a different part of that Fragment SEKAI, the field is noticeably different. The SEKAI in this event has flowering, bright green fields, while in Sakura Across SEKAI and Miku's Colorful Festival story, the field is a different shade of green and lacks any flowers. The grass is also a bit patchy in those older stories. A last detail that suggests these might be different SEKAI is that Miku doesn't recognise it.

However, I do believe that these are the same SEKAI. Firstly, both SEKAI are a bridge between the five we see in the game. GIven that the Tree SEKAI already exists, it feels very unlikely that another SEKAI serving the exact same purpose would be born, let alone looking extremely similar. As for the differences in appearance? The SEKAI grew of course. As mentioned earlier in this post, Street SEKAI Miku explains very early on in the game that SEKAI grow and develop over time if the feelings that created them don't dwindle. The original Miku alludes to it in her Colorful Festival story as well. I think that that could easily explain why the fields look healthier and are flowering now - because they grew with the feelings of those from the five SEKAI.

And a bit more on the meta side, I want to mention the flowers specifically. Obviously, between the second and third year of the game, this SEKAI went from being an empty field aside from a single tree, to being filled with flowers in it's next appearance. While this is already explained by the theory that it's the same SEKAI growing with time and feelings, I would like to draw attention to the tagline for the third year of the game: Journey to Bloom. All the units made significant changes and developments in order to go further down their respective paths and get closer to their dreams. As a metaphor, they went from being small buds to blooming flowers. I think the same might apply to the Tree SEKAI as a visual metaphor.

So what is the Tree of Feelings SEKAI? Well, it's not entirely clear. Not even the Virtual Singers are entirely sure what it is, because something like it has never existed before. What we do know is that it's a sort of Fragment SEKAI that acts as a nexus between the School, Stage, Street, Wonderland, and Empty SEKAI. When the inhabitants and owners of those SEKAI have the same strong feelings at the same time, they will be transported to the Tree SEKAI and allowed to meet. Virtual Singers are able to retain their memories of being in this SEKAI, although humans cannot.

Currently, the SEKAI is still a Fragment, and can only be accessed for short periods of time. However, it is still growing, and it has been implied that it could one day become a full-fledged SEKAI.

As of posting, Miku never met the original five who unlocked the Tree SEKAI again, although this post will be revisted if any updated are made to the lore of this Fragment? Nexus? SEKAI.

[satuguro]

ೃ PUT ON A SHOW !

porn star! ethan landry x roommate! reader

#SYNOPSIS— ethan really needs to stop thinking about you during his private sessions.

#CONTAINS— anal play, toys, voyeurism, sub! ethan, mommy kink, degradation/praise, dacryphilia, reader is mean, this is filthy i mean it, brief mention of porn star! chad

#AUTHORSNOTE— sorry not sorry x2, might make a part 2 with pornstar chad bc i want to lol

there were a few pros to having a roommate who was as hard working as you.

one, you were barely home. a worrying fact that honestly ethan really shouldn't be so bothered about. most roommates would probably prefer it that their roomie wasn't home, but the thing is, ethan liked you. maybe a little too much; your presence was comforting, you were interesting to talk to, and you were such a good listener that ethan could ramble for hours and not feel bad at all.

two, you had little time to relax, so when you did, you did it with him. laying on the couch and watching a new t.v show with him, making dinner when you came home before ethan did and laughing over the dinner table, playing animal crossing on your switch while he did the homework he procrastinated. ethan liked it when you could just relax, and he liked it even more that you preferred to do it with him, your dear puppy-eyed roommate who was always a little too eager to do things for you.

you were always so stressed, working a job you hated and practically giving your all to school and your profession that you barely had time for yourself. you always came home so exhausted, sometimes even pissed off, that ethan wanted to make it easy for you. he wanted to help you relax. (and sometimes, on the days you came home particularly angry, he imagined you taking that anger out on him instead.)

three, because you weren't home and because you were always so busy, ethan had a chance to keep his side job a little more.. under wraps.

originally, it had started out of curiosity. simple twitter porn videos of him jerking off in front of a camera, whining and moaning as he thrusted his cock into his hand for the internet to see. and only when ethan realized that people liked him and that he was only a little (a lot) turned on by random strangers calling him pretty boy and little slut did he start an onlyfans.

truthfully, even though ethan liked being called all those degrading words, he imagined every single one of them as you behind the screen. typing behind all the accounts, calling him degrading words and praising him for being your little slut and your pretty boy.

but you had already written him off as the innocent roommate. the boy next door type who looked at you with shining hazel eyes and was sometimes just a little too smart with his mouth. and ethan, too afraid of saying his occupation to you, too afraid of possibly making you uncomfortable in any way, kept it a secret.

after the nights where ethan recorded before you came home, fucking himself with a fleshlight and bouncing on a dildo, he could barely even look at you during breakfast. face burning red and hand far too stiff as ethan ate his cereal diligently, listening to you talk about your day plans, completely oblivious to the fact that ethan had used his toys, imagining it was your pussy he was pounding into and your strap on he was taking so well.

which was why he only mildly jumped when you knocked on his door right as he was posting one of his videos.

"ow," ethan hissed, knee colliding with the underside of his desk before he hurried changed the page to another. "come in!"

you peeked in, smile as charming as ever as you looked at your flustered roommate. "hey, they called me in for a little today so i'll probably be home pretty late," you said, opening the door a little wider. you leaned against the door frame, tilting your head a little as you crossed your arms over your chest. "whatcha working on?" you asked curiously, peering at ethan's tomato-red cheeks with an amused grin.

"oh!" ethan laughed nervously, unable to stop himself from subtly looking at the outfit you wore, "i'm working on.." he turned to his computer, eyes widening slightly as he stared at the youtube video he was watching earlier of how to play chess. "chess..?"

"huh." you clicked your tongue, peering into the screen. "okay. i gotta go— logan's gonna kill me if i show up late."

you failed to notice the way ethan's jaw clenched at the mention of your co-worker, a hint of jealousy in his eyes. "don't stay up for me, 'kay?" you said with one final smile, one he quickly returned.

"okay! drive safe, please," ethan said earnestly, making you nod as you shut the door.

"y'know i always do!"

ethan waited until he heard you leave before he returned back to his page. he had planned later on in the week to make a video with chad, but today he had to make a video.

"fuckin' asshole," you grumbled to yourself as you fumbled with your keys. the fact that they called you in just to say that they didn't need you that night only pissed you off a little bit. they didn't think to just text you instead of telling you to your face?

you turned your keys into the lock before slowly opening the door. it was relatively late now; you had left late and returned late. but you didn't want to disturb ethan.

door creaking softly as you shut it and locked it behind you, you didn't want to make your presence known to him as you kicked your shoes off gently. knowing ethan, he was probably fast asleep, playing video games, or talking to chad.

your sock-clad feet shuffled gently across the hard wood floor, a slow sigh leaving your lips until you heard a muffled sound from ethan's room.

you stopped in your tracks, head turning towards his door. was he still awake? a fond smile graced your face as you slowly walked closer, until stopping again when you heard another sound. a moan.

did he have someone over? you couldn't deny the slight hurt and jealousy that panged at your chest at that, your jaw clenching as you tried to push down your emotions.

good for him.

and you almost walked away then to leave ethan to his own devices, if you didn't hear that he whimpered out.

"fuck, this dildo's so big."

what the fuck did he just say?

you blinked, jaw almost dropping at the words coming out of your dear roomie's (not so) innocent mouth, the idea that ethan fucking landry, who sometimes forgot to clean up after himself because he got distracted by some other activity, was moaning like a pornstar.

swallowing thickly, you took a step closer.

and he forgot to shut his door. typical.

but your curiosity and desire was burning far too high for you to just walk away. for you to just turn away from your annoyingly handsome roommate who was letting out such salicious moans that you felt desire pooling at your stomach as you stepped closer and closer.

and when you pushed open ethan's door ever so slowly, you were so happy you gave into your temptations.

ethan looked delicious, ass hitting his headboard repeatedly as he fucked himself dumb on a dildo he had suction cupped to the wood. his eyes were shut tightly, imagining that it was you forcing his hips back to hit yours, making him sink further and further down onto your strap, making him whine as you stretched his ass just for you.

"mm, mm, mm, mm," ethan whimpered repeatedly with every push back of his hips, taking the dildo deeper into his ass with every push. hands gripping his comforter, ethan let out a filthy moan as he sank down fully on the cock, moan moving into a whine as he shifted a little on the dildo. "feels so.."

and when ethan finally opened his eyes, he saw you. shamelessly staring as you watched him fuck himself silly, jaw clenched and pupils dilated as you realized your roommate wasn't as innocent as you thought he was.

"don't stop," you said before ethan could say anything, voice coming out strained as you watched him look at you with wide, mildly horrified eyes.

"w—what?" ethan stared at you like a deer in headlights, hands gripping his comforter as he tried to process your words.

"did i stutter?" you said with a small tilt of your head, finding your voice as you stepped closer. "i said," you sat down right in front of him, eyes snapping to his phone, recording diligently, "don't. stop."

a wicked grin meets your lips as you stare down at him with hungry eyes, finally connecting the dots. “so this is what you do when i’m not home, huh?” grabbing his head of curls, you relish in the whine he lets out as you force him to look at you. “whoring yourself out for the entire internet to see. so don’t stop just because i’m watching.”

ethan bit down on his bottom lip, face red as he looked at you with doe eyes. “y/n,” he whined, eyes glassy and pupils dilated as he started at you. “you’re so mean,” he whimpered, cock twitching as you tilted your head in faux confusion, clicking your tongue.

“don’t you want me to be mean?” your tone changes a bit, melting into sincerity and genuine worry as you look down at ethan, making sure that it’s truly what he wants, that he’s wanted this as much as you have.

and when he nods, face flushing red, your eyes turn cold again.

“good boy.” and with that, you lean down to kiss him, making a delicious moan rip out of his throat as finally, your lips are on his. it’s a mess of tongue and desperation, your lips moving needily over hisas you bend him at an unnatural position. ethan was so compliant, becoming an easy puddle in your hands as he whined into your mouth as his hard cock rubbed against his comforter.

you pull away from him, hungry eyes staring at his pretty red parted lips and his flushed cheeks. “y/n— mommy—“ ethan babbles, already a mess as he stares at you with dilated pupils, eyes glassy with desperate tears.

"crying already?" you couldn't help but tease, caressing his face with one of your hands. ethan leaned into your soft touch, his heart pounding loud in his chest. but that moment of softness lasted briefly; with a sadistic smile on your face, you used your free hand to shove ethan by his shoulder, forcing him fully onto the plastic cock.

his mouth dropped open in a beautiful 'o' as he felt the 10 inch dildo fill him up again, his legs shaking as he struggled to keep himself up. poor baby was so needy, the fact that you fell so easily into the dominant role making him so hard that it hurt.

“if i knew you were such a slut, ethan,” you said, pulling him off of the dildo completely, leaving him empty and gaping, “i would’ve fucked you ages ago.”

ethan whimpered at that, unable to form any coherent sentence as you practically manhandled him to turn around, making it so that he was on his hands and knees with his ass towards you. pulling the dildo off of your headboard with a small pop, you hummed, forcing ethan’s ass back further.

he was so sinful, so compliant to your movements as you practically manhandled him into the position you wanted him in. “mommy, mommy please,” ethan babbled, anticipation making his body tingle as he wiggled his ass, trying to tempt you, “i’m so empty—“ he was cut off with a yelp as you slapped his ass hard, the pain making him whine for more.

all those days of him going off to the gym surely paid off. you couldn’t keep your eyes off of ethan’s ass as you slapped his other asscheek, making him whimper. “that’s for not telling me,” you growled, before slapping his other cheek, reveling in the whorish moan he let out. “that’s for slutting yourself out to anyone but me.” another slap, and another delicious moan.

spreading ethan open with one hand, revealing his gaping pink hole for you, you slapped his hole, hearing ethan sob at the stimulation. “and that’s because you fucking belong to me, got it?”

“yes— yes, mommy,” ethan cried out, tears already streaming down his pretty face as he struggled to keep himself together. he was so horny, so needy, so deep in his head space and you were only helping him. “y/n, i need you, please, i’m sorry, momma, i need you,” he whined out, his words slurring together as he sniffled.

you clicked your tongue, feigning boredom as you rubbed ethan’s rim teasingly, making him push his ass back further towards you. your other hand came to push his lower down, forcing him to arch his muscular back in such a lewd way. but ethan was basically putty in your hands, willing and compliant, and he arched his back so prettily for you.

“what do you need me to do, e?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you sank two fingers into him. ethan took it so easily, his breathing coming out in a low moan as he felt himself filled up.

and maybe it was because he was a bit of a size queen, but ethan wanted more.

“need you t’fuck me, mommy,” ethan said obediently, sniffling as he looked back at you from his position. his pretty face was tear streaked, and his doe eyes were shiny with tears as he cried for you. “i’ve been so good, please,” he begged shamelessly, his lip quivering. ethan’s mind was focused solely on you, how pretty you were, how your touch felt, how your fingers felt inside of him.

he had wanted you for so long. and now he had you.

you pulled your fingers out of his pretty pink hole, spitting over it, making ethan whimper. but before he could even keep thinking about you, you grabbed his thick dildo and slapped its fat head teasingly against his hole, making wet plap plap sounds. “so loose, baby,” you murmured in wonder, sliding the expanse of the cock against his hole. and just like the slut he was, ethan reached two hands behind him and spread his ass apart, cheeks burning red and cock hard from the exposure.

a wicked grin crawled onto your face as ethan whined pathetically, his babbles of “please” and “mommy i’m sorry” fueling your sadistic desire to make him beg.

too bad you were impatient.

you slid the dildo completely inside of him, making ethan’s eyes roll back as he was filled up completely again. “oh fuck—“ ethan cried out as you began moving the dildo in and out of him at a brutal pace, making him moan out in pleasure, his hands still spreading his ass apart for you.

“you’re such a dirty slut,” you murmured, kissing down ethan’s arched back and making him keen. “i bet you’re always so desperate for pleasure, huh? always want to have a pussy to fuck or a dick to suck,” you teased, making ethan grip the comforter hard as he cried out.

“i’m— i’m a dirty slut,” ethan sobbed, his cock grinding against the sheets as you fucked him at such a brutal pace. he felt drool slipping from his mouth, his mouth making such salacious noises that he had no control over. you had practically broken him at this point, his mind solely focused on you and how full he felt as the thick dildo pumped in and out of his ass.

“yeah you are. you just love being a whore for everyone, huh?” you laughed cruelly, watching as ethan pushed his hips back to meet your movements.

“ah, ah, ah, ah!” ethan moaned repeatedly, tongue lolling out and back arching even more as he felt you hit his prostate over and over. he could’ve cum right then and there, but ethan took pride in being a good boy for you. “mommy— mommy, can i cum?” he asked frantically, feeling the dildo pump in and out of him faster. precum stained his sheets as ethan’s thick cock bobbed with every push into him.

“i don’t know if needy sluts deserve to cum,” you tsked, a smirk growing on your face when you heard ethan practically sob at your denial.

he buried his face into his pillows as you dragged the dildo out until only its fat tip was inside, until you shoved it all into him at once. the moan ethan let out echoed in the room, his tears staining his pillows as he begged for you. “please, please, please,” ethan whimpered out like a mantra, looking back at you with teary hazel eyes. “mommy, please—!”

“cum for mommy, ethan,” you murmured, kissing down ethan’s back once again.

“oh fuck— oh fuck, i’m cumming, i’m cumming—!” ethan whined out, his voice becoming breathy and high pitched as he came over his sheets, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head at the power of his orgasm. you pumped the thick dildo in and out of him through his orgasm, murmuring praise as ethan’s body finally went limp.

you peppered kisses all along ethan’s back, ready to pull the dildo out of ethan before he stopped you, his hand grabbing your free hand. “keep it in,” he murmured, pupils blown wide as he looked at you with a red tear stained face.

“i wanna keep it inside while you ride my face.”

[kxmikomrade]

IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY. IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!!! YOUR BIRTHDAY IT IS.

I'm gonna finish that kokomi for you promise.

UFXSCUFSCUGACGU YIPPEE IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!!! THAT'S THE COOLEST THING EVER

IT'S IN TWO HOURS FOR ME BUT IT HAS BEEN SEVEN HOURS FOR YOU!!! THAT'S THE COOLEST FRFR

HAPPPYYYYY BIRTHDAYYY

if u suffer from a birthday curse. lmk and I will try to make it better <3 I'll have the kokomi ready by the end of your today so it can hopefully make you feel at least a bit better <33

KIM!! MITSU!! WAS BORN TODAY SOMETHING YEARS AGO!! THAT IS THE COOLEST THING EVER ACTUALLY. IT'S SO AMAZING AND WONDERFUL THAT YOU WERE BORN. I LOVE YOU. SILLY.

I hope I'm the first on tumblr hrhghrrgdhgd >:)

I love you mwah forever!! <33

I hope your birthday is amazing <33

(sorry if this got sent twice btw. tumblr was being weird.)

ITS MY BDAYY!! (wait wat, it genuinely doesnt feel like it, bro if i didnt look at my phone/laptop today, i wouldve deadass forgot 💀)

NUNU ITS OKAYYY <33 TAKE UR TIME!! :DD (bro thats the 3rd time ive said that in the past 24 hours, BCS 2 OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS HAVE BEEN BUSY BUT THEY WANNA WORK ON MY BDAY ART SO THEY WOULD HAVE TO SEND IT LATE, BUT THE FUNNY THING IS, IM ALSO GONNA BE LATE ON FINISHING MY BDAY ART BCS I KEPT PROCRASTINATING SO THATS FUNNY AHASHASH)

RAHHH TYSM SHROOM <333

idk wat a bday curse is, but i assume its smth bad u recall on ur bday?? if so then last years bday SUCKED, prob the worst day of my life 😭😭 but nows def better now that ive got u, and alot of my friends here and no restrictions to me getting in contact and seeing all ur greetings :DDDD

BUT TY AGAIN SHROOM <33 ugh i wanna give u a nickname SO BAD but i just cant think of anything, oh pls memory, START MEMORYING WHEN I WANNA LEARN KANJI SO I CAN GIVE SHROOM AND CUTE NICKNAME!!! >:C

YES I WAS BORN ARCHON KNOWS HOW MANY YEARS AGO TODAY (im actually fine with revealing my age now but its better to be safe than sorry esp here since its public but dms r another matter ehe :D)

YES UR THE FIRST ILY SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH MWAHHHHHHHHH THANK U FOR TAKING UR TIME OF THE DAY AND ENERGY TO GREET ME AND STOP BY MY INBOX OFTEN, IT RLLY BRIGHTENS MY DAY :DDD

[roommatesfanfictionstory]

Chapter 3 || Early bird's call

Keigo: Did you land safe? (7:05 pm)

Keigo: Sorry I didn't return your call, I was busy (7:43 pm)

Keigo: You're not mad are you? (8:07 pm)

Keigo: y/n? (8:30 pm)

Keigo: y/n? (9:11 pm)

Keigo: n/n (9:11 pm)

Keigo: n/n (9:11 pm)

Keigo: n/n (9:11 pm)

--

"Really Keigo?" you mumbled groggily, "After weeks of radio silence, you decide to call me at 5 in the morning...? Couldn't this wait?"

"Absolutely not," Keigo snickered. He sounded annoyingly energetic.

"..." you just stared at the wall with sleepy eyes, too tired to reply.

"Ok you're mad at me," he said after a short pause, "I'm sorry I haven't contacted you in a while, I've just had a lot of stuff going on."

"..."

"Are we cool?"

"..."

"Y/n?"

"..." you yawned, "...I was never mad at you."

"Then what's with the silent treatment?"

"Well, I'm a little angry at you sure. But as for the 'silent treatment'...I'm pretty sure I'm only half conscious right now," you say and gently rub the sleep from your eyes, "...How come you sound so awake and lively?"

"You know I'm an early bird," he said, then you heard a smirk, "...and because I know it'll annoy you."

"Did you ring just to bother me?" you were mildly irritated by that last bit.

"I rang to catch up," he clarified, "So tell me, did you land safely?"

"...dude," you said exasperated, "I arrived over a week ago."

"Yeah I know, I remember you telling me when you'd arrive," he said, "I asked if you came here safely. Were there any problems? Any...less than ideal incidents?"

"I'm...here aren't I?" you said slowly, not too interested in recounting your adventure so far, especially since you couldn't even remember what you did yesterday at that moment.

"In one piece I hope," he said in a way that made it seem like a joke, but you could tell there was genuine concern in his voice.

"Not right now..." you said, then realised how worrying that sounded, "As in mentally speaking."

He gave a slight chuckle, "Are you still sleepy?"

"Maybe..." you said, finally smiling, "Any more questions?"

"Just one," he replied, "What have you been up to since you got here? Catch me up."

The conversation went on for basically half the morning. Since he kept insisting, you told him the details of your adventures in Tokyo, how you're settling into your apartment and the dinner you had with your neighbours. To be honest, you weren't sure if what you were saying was all that interesting, but Keigo was acting like he was hooked on your every word. Even if it was at an ungodly hour, you were glad that he phoned you.

"Before I go, you remember what I said about there being an increase in villain activity?" Keigo asked.

"Yes and I only think about it almost every day," you said, a chill running up your spine as you recalled when he described all the recent events.

"I didn't mean to scare you; I just want you to keep your guard up," he said with that concern in his voice again, "Speaking of, I made a list of places you should avoid, there have been rumours of...things happening there. It's probably nothing, but just in case, y'know?"

"No not really, you're being pretty vague," you say, "But sure, I'll have a look at the list."

"Cool. Any questions, just text me," he said, "Alright, I'll leave you to go back to sleep."

"It's too late for that," you grumbled, "Thanks for screwing over my internal body clock."

"It's my pleasure," he said smirking before hanging up.

He can be so infuriating sometimes. You have your first day of the internship tomorrow and now you have lost valuable time to prepare for it and make sure you're ready to make a good first impression (ok, so you might have procrastinated a little this past week and left filling in and signing important documents to the last minute. Which will probably take hours to do). As you lie in bed, you mentally plan out all of the tasks you need to do and almost lose the will to get up. You felt momentarily overwhelmed by the day's demands, but you tell yourself to take it a step at a time and slowly sit up.

Today's going to be a long day.

---

Word count: 735

[jae-canikeepyou]

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.  

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

[aquaticrunner]

Modern Academic Rivals to Lovers | Edmund x Reader

Request by @generalblizzarddreamer : Hey love! I don't know if you're inspired to write Narnia right now but could I have academic rivals to lovers with Edmund Pevensie? Maybe Edmund could be a law student and the reader is a journalism major? Thanks so much if you do it! | Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I did not mean for this to come out so long but I loved the idea and just kinda ran with it. I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I’m so sorry it took so long but I’m finally out of school so I’m catching up on all my requests.

I stood up from the small desk I was sitting at in the university library and stretched my arms up above my head. I’d been sitting at this desk for at least two hours and still felt like I hadn’t made much progress on my project. I decided to go searching for some more sources and scanned the section closest to me. A book title on the top shelf caught my eye and I reached my hand up to grab it. Just as my fingers brushed the spine of the book, another hand reached over and swiped it. “Hey!” I shouted, immediately cringing at the loudness of my voice in the quiet library. I looked over at the thief who had taken my book. The guy seemed familiar like maybe we’d had a few classes together. He had dark, curly hair that had grown past his ears and an easy smile that probably made most people melt. 

“Hey yourself.” He said, chuckling as he started to walk away. I bit the side of my cheek in frustration and made the impulsive decision to follow him. “Excuse me, but I need that book.”

He stopped walking and smirked at me. Despite how attractive this boy was, it infuriated me. “Well, so do I.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I saw it first and there’s only one copy.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You saw it first? What is this, primary school?”

“Seriously? Just give me the book.”

I could see the smile in his eyes as he just looked at me and said, “No.” Then he turned around and walked away again.

I decided not to follow him this time and walked back to my desk, fuming the whole way there. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious guy I’d ever met and I didn’t even know his name. I tried to focus on my project again but gave up after about 30 minutes. I packed up my stuff and walked back to my dorm. When I made it back, I checked the time on my phone. It was only 8:15. Too early to go to sleep. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I saw my best friend’s name. I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear. She answered after the first ring and asked what was up. “Do you wanna go out?”

I woke up the next morning with a slight headache and my mouth dry. I picked up the water bottle that I keep beside my bed but it was empty. I sighed and stood up. I ventured into my small kitchen area and filled up the bottle in the sink. As I drank the water, my mind drifted back to last night. My friend, Valerie, and I had gone to a small club and stayed out till about midnight. I had pretty much gotten over my encounter with that guy at the library. I looked at the clock at the wall and cursed when I realized that it was almost 7:30. I only had 15 minutes to get ready for my morning class. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and brushed my teeth. I rushed out the door, barely checking to see if I had the right notebook. I walked as fast as I could to the humanities building and breathed a sigh of relief when I made it with 3 minutes to spare. I took a seat in the front row where I always did and smiled at the boy that always sits next to me. I opened my backpack and grabbed my notebook, thankful that it was the right one. I opened the notebook to a blank page and sat a pencil next to it. I was waiting for the professor to walk in when someone else caught my eye. It was the boy from the library! So we do have a class together, I thought. I waited for him to see me but his eyes stayed focused on his path and he sat down in the middle row. I turned my head quickly in case he saw me looking at him. 

The professor walked in a minute later and I tried to refocus my mind on what he was teaching. This class was already boring to me. I knew that research and writing were important, but this class felt almost too basic. As the professor talked my mind drifted to the boy sitting behind me. I wondered if he had noticed me yet, if he was as bored as I was, or if he was paying attention and didn’t notice me at all. 

“Does anyone know the answer?” I was snapped out of my thoughts when the professor addressed the class and averted my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t call on me. “Anyone at all?”

“A research question is focused, complex, and arguable.” My eyes widened when I realized it was the boy from last night.

“Yes that is correct, Mr… ?”

“Pevensie, sir. Edmund Pevensie.”

The professor nodded and went back to lecturing. My eyes stayed glued to the boy, Edmund. His eyes snapped to mine and heat immediately rushed to my cheeks and I turned back to my notebook. Now he’s going to think I’m obsessed with him.

When the professor dismissed class after what felt like forever, I threw my stuff in my bag and rushed out of my seat. I made it out the door and thought I was clear and my path was blocked. “Excuse me.” I said, trying to get past.

“Avoiding someone?” His voice burned into my soul and I jumped back.

“No. I just have somewhere to be.” My eyes drifted up his chest as I leaned up to meet his eyes.

The corner of his mouth ticked up and he narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. I’m Edmund by the way. Figured I should introduce myself after you called me a thief.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are a thief. And I heard your name. Everyone in class did.”

This time, he smiled completely. “So…?”

I looked at him, unsure of what he was wanting. “So what?”

He stared at me blankly as if he was trying to figure out if I really didn’t know or if I was messing with him. “Your name?”

“Oh. It’s Y/N.” I don’t know why it surprised me that he wanted my name. Was he trying to be friends or something?

“Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N.” And with that he turned and walked away. Why is he always doing that?

I rolled my eyes as he left and walked back to my dorm, throwing my bag down in the living room. My roommate, Elle, walked out and raised her eyebrows at me. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”

“I am not!” I shouted defensively. She just looked at me and my shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I met this guy and he’s a total jerk.”

Her eyes lit up immediately. “You met a guy?”

“Seriously? That was not the important part of that sentence.”

She laughed. “Well I can’t remember the last time you said the words “met a guy.”” She said, using air quotes around my words. 

I sighed and walked into my room, looking over my schedule for the day. I had one more class and a club meeting later that day. 

“Hey would you wanna grab lunch before my next class?” I asked her, walking back into the living room.

She shrugged, “Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

We ate in the campus cafeteria and I went to my corporate communication class. Now I was on my way to one of the meeting rooms on campus for a debate club meeting. It was my first time joining a club and I was definitely nervous. 

I walked up the stairs of the building and into the room that was on the announcement. A tall girl greeted me at the door with a large smile. “Hi! Are you here to join the debate team?” Her enthusiasm was almost scary but I smiled back and nodded as she handed me an instruction packet. “Great! Feel free to sit anywhere.” I thanked her and took a seat near the middle. Normally I liked to sit in the front but I was a little too nervous tonight.

I looked around for anyone I might know and noticed a familiar boy with dark, curly hair. You have to be kidding me. Ever since our interaction at the library Edmund seemed to be everywhere I was.

He was busy talking to a group of kids at the back of the room. He caught my eye and waved at me with a smirk on his face. I clenched my jaw and turned back around, facing the front of the room.

The girl who greeted me when I walked in had now moved to stand behind a small podium. She cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention and I sat up a little straighter in my chair. She spent the next hour describing what the debate club was like, our meeting schedule, and how often we attend competitions. “Now there is a sign-up sheet being passed around. Please write your name and phone number on the sheet.” She handed the clipboard with the sheet on it to the boy on my left and he handed it to me when he was done. I wrote what she instructed and passed it to my right, not paying attention to who was beside me. Once everyone was done she announced that the meeting was over and we would receive a message for our next meeting time. I sighed and stood following the small crowd out the door.

“Hey Y/N!” I looked to see who was calling my name and of course it was Edmund. 

I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard him, but he caught up to me almost immediately. “Hey, I didn’t know you were interested in debate.”

I shrugged, “Well you don’t really know that much about me at all.”

He put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Ouch. You wound me.”

I smiled condescendingly. “I try.”

“You don’t like me, do you?” He asked.

“I don’t have any feelings toward you.” I said in response.

“Riiight. Is this about the book?” 

I sighed. “No. I don’t care about some stupid book. Look, it's late and I have to go. Bye.”

I walked away from him and headed back to my dorm for the night, trying to concentrate on my project. 

The rest of the week went by quickly with limited interactions between Edmund and me. Finally, it was Friday and I was ready to take a break. However, before I did that I needed to buckle down and finish the project that I had been procrastinating. I packed my stuff up and drove to the library. I spent hours there and by the time I finished, it was dark outside. I packed my stuff up and stopped by the vending machine on my way out. I reached the doors and pushed, but was surprised when they didn’t open. I pushed again and started to get nervous when they still didn’t open. Maybe there’s another exit. I walked away from the doors and searched the perimeter of the library looking for another set of doors. When I didn’t find any, I walked to the center of the library where the help desk was located. “Hello?” I said, hoping someone would answer me.

I heard a voice from behind me, “Please don’t tell me we’re locked in here.” I cringed, knowing who it was going to be before I even turned around.

I slowly turned to face him. “It’s starting to look that way.”

“Do you have your phone?” He asked me.

“No. I leave it in my car when I’m studying. Don’t you have one?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

He waved it in front of me, looking annoyed. “It’s dead.”

I wanted to bang my head against a wall. “Great,” I said sarcastically. 

“Maybe we can use the library phone?” He suggested and I nodded, walking around to the other side of the desk.

I picked it up and attempted to dial a number. Instead of hearing the phone ringing, all I heard was constant beeping. I groaned when I read the inscription at the bottom of the phone. 

Edmund leaned over. “What is it?”

“This phone only connects to other phones in the building. No one else is going to be here at this hour.”

“Well, guess we better make ourselves comfortable.” He took a seat on one of the couches and propped his feet up on a nearby table.

I took a deep breath and sat down in a chair across from the couch. 

He stared at me from across the table and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me?” I finally asked.

He shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out why you don’t like me.”

“By staring at me?”

Edmund laughed and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease just a bit.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” He asked me.

I bit my lip nervously. This is going to be a long night. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

“So you’re acting like this because you do like me.”

“No!”

“So you’re rude to everyone?”

“I am not rude! I don’t dislike you. I just have no interest in talking to you.” I finally said.

“Why not? I’m hilarious.” 

I snorted in response. “I doubt that.”

“You’re judging me based on one interaction. That hardly seems fair.” He said. I looked away, not wanting to admit that he might be right.

“Well it was one rude interaction. First impressions matter.” I said in my defense.

“Okay, well I’m sorry I took the book you wanted. I needed it for a project.”

“So did I.”

He laughed, but it sounded dry. “Whatever.”

I bit my lip, guilt starting to settle in my stomach. Maybe I had judged him too harshly.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have judged you so fast. Maybe we could be friends?” I asked.

He half-smiled and I felt slightly relieved. “We can be friends.”

I smiled at him for what felt like the first time and he smiled back.

“Let’s play twenty questions.” He said, sitting up suddenly.

“What?”

“Twenty questions. I ask you a question and then you ask me one.” 

I curled my hair around my finger nervously. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You can ask me first.”

I sighed, knowing there was nothing else to do anyway. “Fine. What’s your major?”

Edmund laughed. “Okay, starting off easy. I’m pre-law. What’s yours?”

“Journalism.” He nodded, and I sat for a moment, thinking of my next question. “What’s your family like?”

Edmund smiled and his fondness for them was written clearly all over his face. “I have two sisters and a brother. Lucy and I are the youngest and then Susan and Peter. We’re all really close. I don’t get to see them as often as I like but we text all the time.”

I smiled, surprised at such a genuine response. He cleared his throat and then asked his next question. “What’s your favorite food?”

I laughed and tried to think of a genuine answer. “Pizza. Yours?”

Edmund thought for a moment. “I love anything sweet. Why are you majoring in journalism?”

“Well… I’d like to have an impact on the world. I like discovering the truth and telling real stories. Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“To defend those who can’t defend themselves, obviously.” He said, jokingly.

I laughed again and thought of my next question. Edmund and I spent the rest of the night talking and laughing. I had seriously misjudged him. He was actually very pleasant to be around. Eventually, we fell asleep and when the librarian woke us up the next morning I was embarrassed to find that Edmund and I had moved together in our sleep. The librarian apologized profusely for not checking before she locked up and then Edmund and I were on our way out of the library.

He walked me to my car and I grabbed his arm before he turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He looked at me curiously. “For what?”

“For making last night a little better. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been locked in by myself.” In a moment of bravery, I leaned forward and hugged him.

Edmund hugged back and I could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating in his chest.

I leaned back slowly and Edmund kept his arms around me.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

I nodded and Edmund leaned forward, immediately capturing my lips with his. The kiss was passionate and I could’ve sworn I saw literal sparks. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted but I was sure it wasn’t long enough. He leaned his forehead against mine and I smiled at the closeness.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” He asked me.

“I would love to.”

He kissed me on the cheek then began to walk back to his car. 

“Hey Edmund!” I called. He turned back to face me. “Thanks for stealing my book.” A smile broke out on his gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

[godwrecks]

𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗮

𝗣𝘁. 𝟮 - 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁

word count: 4.1k

tags; college au. angst. confession. fwb. drugs. fluff if you squint.

The first thing you registered was the light buzzing - no, vibrating of Suna’s phone. Much too dazed by your sleep, you didn’t wonder who was blowing up his messages this late at night. Raising up the sheets to shield your naked body from the cold, you tried to get some sleep, but Suna’s incessant tossing kept you from doing so.

You finally turned to him, eyes squinting at his illuminated face. “Why the fuck is your screen so bright?” You groaned and nuzzled into his chest, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. He merely chuckled, quickly putting away the phone.

“Why so cranky, you just woke up,” despite speaking in hushed sentences, his voice still dripped with mocking. Suna placed his hand on your hip, and though it remained in its station for a few seconds, he soon started trailing his fingers along your waistline.

“Can you even call it waking up? I didn’t sleep at all,” he cocked his head at that, bringing you in closer to him. “I guess I’m at fault for that.”

You smiled quietly, clearing your head as much as possible to get a wink of sleep, though you knew he’d be up and going soon. It had been a few weeks since the...incident, if that’s what you could call it. Nothing changed, really, for better or for worse. Sometimes he was more careful around you, but your relationship was only good for sex. That’s what you had to remind yourself, right? But everything remaining the same was what bugged you. You knew better than to demand more because this was never meant to go past fuck buddies. And while he started coming to you slightly less high, sometimes even seemingly sober, you knew better than to get your hopes up.

With your head like this on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Steady, while yours seemed to always mess up and skip around him. And yet with the slow rhythm of his heart, of his breathing, you surrendered to sleep.

When you woke up again, the sunlight was already rudely peeping past your curtains, and the other side of the bed was empty. Still adjusting to the light, you looked around the room slowly, filled with a strange relief when you found Suna dressing up.

“Practice?” You rubbed your eyes carefully, putting on a hoodie and wobbling when you stood up to reach him. He smiled arrogantly as he ran a hand through his hair, proud of the mess he made of you.

“Yeah. I gotta stop to get something on the way, so I’m heading out now.” His voice was still raspy from sleeping, some of his locks awkwardly falling over his eyes.

Though you wanted to smile at the sight, you knew he was talking about his plug and picking up shit from him. It wasn’t that you judged him for smoking - if that had been your preference, you would’ve known better than to get involved. You and Suna started out as friends, and you had been good friends for a long time at that. Some of the boys on the team always smoked together, and you almost always happened to be there with a few other girls, sometimes even taking a hit you’d be offered. Some of those girls were flings you’d never see again, others were girlfriends. But you were just a friend at the time, not thinking much of the tall and laid-back middle blocker.

“Will you be there tonight? For the party, I mean,” he spoke casually, sitting down on sheets that now smelled like him. “I’m not too sure. I have an assignment due, and I have to be up early tomorrow,” he nodded from his place, tying his boots. You hadn’t been going to many parties lately. The semester nearly ending meant your workload was accumulating, which also meant seeing Suna less. It was at parties and gatherings that you really got to see him, anyway - he was always busy with volleyball and zooted out of his mind most nights he was free. Your thoughts were abruptly cut when you felt his lips press against your forehead, finding an apologetic smile when you looked up.

“You’re starting to bore me,” he joked, but it still made your smile falter. You wanted to give yourself a good slap; since when had you become such a crybaby?

“I’m gonna go now, don’t miss me too much,” Suna stood in the door, offering a charming wink.

“Bye, loser,” you smiled back before shutting the door right in his face.

You had tuned into your laptop to absorb every piece of information from the lecture, or at least try to, as you sat in the library. A quick glance at the clock told you it was nearly midnight. Surprisingly, the library was open all night for students to study - go figure, maybe they guessed most procrastinate until the night thereof. You were taking a few sips from your drink when your phone lit up for an incoming call.

“Rin?” You spoke quietly, not bothering to decipher what the background noise was on his end.

“Baby! You picked up,” his voice was lighter than usual, a mixture of sweetness and relaxation. Suna was the type to become touchy when he was intoxicated, whether by alcohol or drugs. His hands wandered everywhere and he became extremely affectionate, even cuddly, though it was mostly him grabbing your ass. You had only ever seen it for yourself; it was what he did when you were around, and you didn’t have the heart to ask what he did, or who he did it with, when you were absent.

“What’s up?” You let out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair, fingers toying with the straw of your cup.

“I wanna see you,” he spoke and you guessed he had walked out of whatever room he was in.

“I’m studying right now. I told you, remember?”

“Mm, yeah, yeah, you did,” Suna grumbled before a sharp noise echoed through the line, followed by a curse.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just knocked some shit over. Anyways, come on, just take a break.” You took in a sharp breath, wanting to knock your head against the wall. You knew when to say no, but when it came to him that never meant it was easy.

“I really can’t, Rin. If you just want a girl all over you, call someone else,” you flinched at your own tone, stupefied by the coldness of it.

Whilst you were pondering the source of your sudden anger, Suna was chuckling, probably shaking his head. “Hey, hey, where’s that coming from?”

“Well, I’m just giving you a disclaimer. I’d love to be there, but my grade for this class is desperately crying for help,” you laughed, hoping to cover up whatever that had been.

“So what? I just call someone else?”

“If that’s what you want right now,” you frowned, a detestable panic rushing through you. It was so stupid to even suggest so in the first place, what were you hoping to accomplish? Maybe you just wanted to check for yourself what happened when you weren’t there to satisfy him.

“Unfair, much?” He sighed, and you wished you were facing him right now, if only to catch a glimpse of what goes through his mind.

“How?” You ventured with a gulp, heart pounding against its cage.

“You’re the only girl who doesn’t sober me up,” your stomach twisted onto itself at the smirk on his voice. You felt sick yet couldn’t point down the reason why - there were several. You being foolish enough to even think of this fact as a confession, him only calling you because he just wanted his high to last. Was he using you? The thought raced through your mind, along with a few scenes of you laying next to him.

“Hey,” he blurted out seriously. Between you only remained the loudest silence you had heard.

“Hey,” you were utterly breathless, struggling for air as your lungs closed up and rebelled against your will. You wondered if this was truly so shocking. While you were in the back of his hair, this fear was always forced to the back of your mind. You had knowingly mistaken every moment for more than it was.

“Are you o-”

“I need to go, actually. I’m still at the library, so I should head home. Have fun, yeah?”

Before he could even reply, you ended the call, gripping your phone so tightly that your knuckles went white.

The ride to your apartment was loathsome, to say the least. Not even the loud music could keep you away from your thoughts long enough. You turned the engine off and made your way to the elevator. In the process of searching through your backpack, your phone almost slipped from your hands when you jumped in surprise, startled at the arm sticking through the closing doors.

Your heart dropped when they opened up to reveal a panting Suna staring right through you.

“Rin, what are you doing here?” You stammered when he pressed the button to your floor, nearing your figure.

“I came here to see you,” he was still slightly out of breath, eyes scanning you as if they were searching for something. Had he run for so long?

You took a look at your handwatch and cringed. It was late, but not late enough for him to come knock at your door.

“Thought you’d be busy until later,” you replied dryly, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, well, change of plans.” His sleazy eyes never left you, and you regretted not taking the stairs.

“I’m sorry I made you come all the way here, but you should go-” You stared at the hand wrapped around your wrist that pulled you closer until you stumbled forward.

“Don’t do that.”

You chuckled viciously, a sound that bruised him. “Sorry I’m not really in the mood to have sex right now.”

“You know that’s not what I’m here for.” Suna started to be visibly frustrated, or at least you thought so by the strength with which he was gripping the pole behind you.

“Then why are you here? That’s all we’ve ever done, Suna,” the name rolled off your tongue awkwardly, and as distasteful as it was for you, his flinch made it clear that he disliked it even more. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, straight to your apartment with the hopes that he’d stay behind.

“Oh, so now we’re back to the last-name basis?” You felt him right behind you, his heavy breathing audible.

“I’m sorry, okay?” You half-assed the apology as you struggled with your keys, the slight shake in your hands slowing you down.

After stepping inside, you turned just in time to see his shake head.

“Why are you being like this all of a sudden?”

Your eyes rolled back at his indifference. How could he be so dense? Was he feigning innocence like this was a game to the both of you? It may have been for him, but not for you.

“I don’t know!” A step towards him and you were already too close. You felt claustrophobic from the way he hovered above you. “Maybe because I feel fucking stupid? I know there’s nothing between us, I’m well aware,” the laugh that formed in your throat was bitter, yet it didn’t compare to the tightening of your chest. “But this just isn’t what I want anymore.”

Suna looked at you as if you had gone insane, unaware of the slight craze in his amber eyes. “What do you want?” He grabbed onto the door, stepping forward until he had cleared his way inside.

“Not this, not whatever you want out of me.”

The grin on his face, unlike his usual striking ones, branded an emotion he had never worn before. “Which is?”

“Making you cum while you’re high, apparently,” you sneered back, tearing his hand away from the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Suna gritted through his teeth, slamming the door shut. You groaned, debating how hard you would have to smack his head with your backpack to give him a concussion.

“Oh, am I? You said so yourself.”

“You’re twisting my words,” he pointed his finger at you accusingly, fuming with every breath.

“How so?” This time you didn’t back off. Instead, you hit his chest, resisting the urge to claw at it so he’d at least keep a distance. “If you care to explain, go right ahead!”

“I never said that’s all I want,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep calm, which was turning out difficult for the both of you.

“Right, because only seeing you after you've smoked wasn’t enough of a message. I don’t even see you throughout the day!”

“How is that only my fault? You never told me you wanted something else, and you were as happy to fuck as I was whenever I knocked on your door.” You could only scoff at his words, amazed he could even dare to try and blame you.

“You know damn well this isn’t on me. I'm not the unavailable one, I'm not the one that's always gone until it's convenient. I'm not the one who barges in and acts like they own me, or did you forget about that already?” You had begun to scream out without realizing, but the rage you felt burning through the cracks of your heart was urging to be released.

Suna stood there quietly, staring at you with distant eyes, like he was too busy making sense of his own thoughts to even mind yours. When the clock ticked away and he had still not spoken a word, you inhaled, bracing yourself.

“Listen, this was nice. And I’d like to stay as a friend, so let’s just leave it at this. If you had plainly admitted that all you ever wanted was sex, I would’be been slightly better now.” The words were calculated and detached as you held onto the sleeves of your cardigan.

“You’re not fucking getting it, it’s not just the sex that I want,” Suna finally mumbled, but your hand was already placed on the knob.

“Well it's all you ever cared to ask for.” You opened the door and stepped away, unable to look anywhere but at the floor.

“When I said I didn't wanna leave you, I didn't mean- I meant…” each word was a separate struggle, and you lacked the strength to bear it any longer.

“What did you mean, Rintaro?” You only offered a tired smile as he stood there once again like a fish out of water. A silent challenge he never took on.

It only took you a few seconds to decide to push him from behind towards the door. You were angry, and heartbroken, and definitely not okay, but something like this was not worth losing him over. Despite everything, he had been a great friend before.

“Have a good night,” and with that, you spelled away the image of the tall brunette you came to adore.

You were still dripping from your long shower, the robe you wore doing little to collect the water before it hit the floor. It was early afternoon, not even 24 hours after the fight, yet it felt like an eternity had passed. You hadn’t heard from Suna at all, and a part of you wondered if you would soon or if he would disappear for a while. Shaking the thoughts away, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a drink when the doorbell rang. You frowned, scrambling your brain for anything your friends had said about coming over, but you were sure none had the plans to visit. The moment you opened the door, the scent of musk and ginger washed over you.

“Please don’t shut the door on me, you seem to have taken a liking to it,” he blabbered out as soon as your eyes met. You hesitated, shifting your weight on your feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“Give me a chance?” You frowned, scanning his face for ulterior motives but all you found was honesty. Despite it, your stomach sank at the sight. Though you didn’t know if you had wanted to see him or not, you wouldn’t have imagined it would be this hard.

“Rin, really, what are you-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, too bewildered to properly speak. Another glance at his face told you he was sober - he even looked more put together than he usually did, though it looked like his volleyball uniform was under his outerwear.

“For someone who was so upset, you should at least give me the opportunity,” he joked tediously, ignoring the dense air that had formed between you two.

His smile was rueful, and genuine from what you could see. “Just...let me do this properly. Dress up and let’s go to my game,” he announced, hints of timidity teetering his voice.

You simply gazed at him, lips forming a thin line. “What are you doing? Just- what are you planning?”

“Nothing!” He swallowed down, raising up the hand that was holding two bags. You raised an eyebrow at it, unamused. “Here, I got you something.”

Receiving it from his cold hands, you looked carefully into it before digging through it. “You’re joking,” you hissed, dangling the pink lingerie in front of his face.

He was smug, toying with you for his pleasure as always. You would have too if you had not been in this situation.

“It was a joke. That’s not...really what,” he quickly delved into the other bag, holding out a small, black box. You surveyed it before cocking your head, taking it from him and opening it. The necklace inside was pretty - beautiful, actually. But you didn’t want his money, you wanted him, which was likely a harder request. “It’s not gifts that I want, Rin,” you sighed, now painfully aware that he would never be something you could predict.

“I know that, angel. But I never treated you, or did something nice for you, and most guys do with, you know,” he trailed off, eyes darting away from your face.

“My problem is you only calling me when you’re high. That issue won’t be solved with gifts,” you massaged your temple, slowly becoming a mess as you tried to put the pieces together and figure out what he was doing.

“I’m not a damn addict, princess. It’s not all I fucking care about,” Suna swore as he leaned against the door frame.

“I know that! I never said you were, but you can’t just go from only giving me that to acting as if you actually want us to be something more. So tell me, how am I supposed to feel?” Though your voice nearly broke, you held onto the door - determined to at least stand your ground. You had been clear with him. You had specified you couldn’t do this anymore, so the least he could do is respect that.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, glimmering ever so briefly that you wondered if the change had been a figment of your imagination. “Listen— I've never,” his chest trembled with a breath before he continued. “I've never been in love with someone, alright? I don’t know how it fucking feels, and that was the last thing I planned on doing. And don’t get me wrong, I was hooked on you from the very beginning. But then suddenly you're the only person I’m attracted to,” Suna’s voice was uncharacteristically weak, threatening to crack at any moment. “And believe me it wasn’t for lack of trying, because while my dick was inside someone else, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to see you. And I didn’t- I don’t know how to process that, all that you fucking make me feel. I don’t even know if I want to process it at all, if I’m being sincere.” His lips lifted into a pained smile that didn’t reach his tormented eyes. “But when you ended that call, you sounded so hurt I panicked. And I don't have a plan, and I'm rambling, and this is probably the most I’ve ever said at once, but if I know something, it’s that I can't let it end here,” his throat bobbed but his steps to you were resolute. You almost turned away when his hands cupped your cheek, spanning the skin delicately.

You couldn’t find your voice for all it was worth. It was hard to tell whether your brain was working faster than your heart.

“You say that, but,” you jerked when you felt a tear trickling down your cheek. Suna’s fingers stuttered undecidedly, but his thumb wiped away the salty trail. “Assuming you truly felt that way, you never acted on it. Actually, you acted very differently,” you hiccuped, biting the inside of your cheek in shame.

“You want me to be honest with you? I feel like such a mess around you, like I might explode. It’s easier to deal with that in certain situations. Hence me restricting our time with each other to me being high,” Suna murmured, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was scared all the good I’d ever do for you is a nice fuck. What if that’s all I get until I mess up? You’ve got it so together and I’m here, not even able to talk about my stupid feelings.”

You gaped at his pale face: the beautiful carving of his features, the slight quavering of his bottom lip, the long eyelashes framing half-mast eyes.

“You mean that?”

He laughed at your simple question, likely expecting more after everything he had let out. You wanted to give him more, but you were unable to, still trapped in your fear that it would all be fake.

“I do. And I’m sure it can’t just be me who feels like this.” With a look at you, he pinched your cheek gently, looking for an answer.

“It’s not just you. Obviously,” you grumbled disapprovingly. It was pretty obvious to you, but he still smiled sweetly, the frenzy in his face slowly fading.

“I’ll probably miserably fail, but I at least wanna try. I wanna do this — with you. So please let me. And if it’s not enough for you even after that, then I won’t waste your time anymore. But give me the chance.” His hands lowered to your jaw and neck while he spoke the words, forcing you into a retreat.

“Rin, do you even know how relationships work?” You scoffed, quirking your eyebrows at the boy.

“Yes. No. In theory?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his response. He really was awfully cute sometimes.

You eyed his waist, reluctantly deciding to wrap your arms around it with a heavy sigh. “I’ll probably regret this and get my heart broken.”

“Hopefully it’s not your heart that gets broken,” Rin quickly added, looking down at your body with a sneaky grin. You glared at him, hiding away the smile on your lips.

“You know we have to like- go on dates. During the day and all?”

He nodded like this was a work interview and he was expecting the question.

“Okay, so get ready. Let’s go to my game,” he signaled over to your room given your bathrobe, but you could only stare at him cautiously.

“I mean it. Come cheer for me,” Rin leaned down to you with the whisper, reaching your eye level. You nodded, rushing to get dressed once he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“You know,” he started off casually, grabbing your hand. “I might’ve cried if you hadn’t come back with me.”

“Oh, really?” You smirked at him, curiosity filling you.

Swiftly noticing your mood shift, he explained. “Well I talked to some friends...for advice, or whatever. So if I had showed back alone, those two jerks would’ve never let me hear the end of it.”

He squeezed your hand as laughter soared through you, your free hand traveling to your abdomen when it began hurting. “Seriously?” You added when you managed to control the laughter, gaining a glare from Suna.

“Seriously.”

When your eyes had returned to the road ahead of you, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your palm.

“I’ll do this, so just don’t complain anymore okay?”

This was so long??? If you actually read all of it, THANK YOU LMAO. also sorry for the weird spaces sometimes, i like writing in docs so i don’t lose anything aha so it b weird sometimes idky. okay yeah thank you !!

art credit: damnzucoyy on tiktok

[spideyspeaches]

Gold Rush ↬ t.h

Gif by @parkeraul :)

A/N: I'm in love with that song 🙈 also here's my super late contribution of professor!tom 😋 cause I've been procrastinating on the wandavision au (in my defence though, it's taking a lot of brainstorming 😂) anyway here you go-

Wc: 2.6k+

Warnings: lemme know if you find one :)

Summary: He taught British History and you chastise yourself for not auditing for that subject earlier.

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Waking up with a start, you groan at the shrill sound of your alarm. With a sigh that was more of a grunt of annoyance, you tried to reach for your phone at the side table, hissing when you felt the corner of your elbow hit the table, pain shooting up to your shoulder. 

Great, you weren't even up yet and your day was already going shitty. You just hoped that your professor won't be grumpy about you being late for the millionth time this semester. 

You hated cultural architecture. You had nothing against the course, but You hated your professor with a passion and wished that you could burn your textbooks for all you cared, right in front of your teacher's eyes, watch him writhe in fear as you banished the very existence of your material. 

You were being dramatic, but in your defence, your professor was an old bastard who never left an opportunity to reprimand you, going as far as letting you know how uneven your margins were on your latest project. 

He wore birkenstocks with a three piece. You wouldn't trust him with your assignments. 

Getting out of your dorm room was work, hard work. But you got out, brushed your teeth and wore what you hoped were presentable clothing. 

"You look hungover." Your roommate, Stacy, commented, spitting in the sink as you scowled at her. 

She was straightforward, outspoken and somehow managed to look like one of those Victoria secrets models that you loathed, even at seven in the morning. You hated her. 

(You didn't.)

"Thanks, I hope I smell too. Want that son of a bitch- what's his name, Wilson, to suffer for giving me that C minus on my thesis." You grumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair to flat them out. 

"You really hate him, don't you." She snickered, popping off her shirt. You tried not to look, not wanting to come off as a pervert, but damn, she was fit. You contemplated her words, frowning at your own reflection. 

You looked disheveled, the dark eye bags under your eyes very apparent as you tried to mask them with foundation, setting your hair for the millionth time. Oh well, you were presentable enough. Sweatpants would have to do for your only class today, you could binge Netflix after this wretched class. 

"I do. I hope his third wife divorces him and he loses his thermos of coffee in the subway." You said, adding your look finally before wearing your shoes. 

"That's cruel, didn't know you had it in you." She snickered, patting your back and following you as you closed the door, "Well I have to go to my boring science lectures now so, see you later hun." 

"Yeah, enjoy your chemistry period with your boyfriend!" You cheered sarcastically, rolling your eyes and hugging her to tell her that you were only joking. Your relationship was this, of jokes and hugs and kisses. You considered her your best friend. 

Rushing towards the gates of your university, you hastily tightened your loosening hair tie, adjusting the straps of your bags. You were pretty sure you had broken your record of being late to your class. You may hate the professor, but you actually enjoyed the subject. 

Wheezing as you ran past the late comers, you nodded at the receptionist, hastily signing yourself in. You would blame your clumsiness for what happened next, because one second you were fixing your sande on the foot of the fountain, and next thing you knew you were crashing into a firm body, your nose hitting the random stranger’s chest.

"I’m so sorry! I’m kinda late to class and I wasn’t looking and- whoa, ow.” You rushed your words, groaning when you felt blood rush from your head to toe, nose throbbing with double vision, a reminder of your clumsiness. 

“Whoa, hey calm down, it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either.” The stranger said, his thick South Western accent snapping you out of your self pity. 

You felt blood rush to your cheeks instead, not anticipating your face in a flush this early in the morning, when you got a good look at the stranger. He was good looking, in his black high turtleneck and brown checkered pants. He had a small leather satchel clutched in his hands, face looking as flushed as you felt when you realised that you had been gawking at him.

He was probably no older than his mid twenties, making you wonder what he was doing in your university. He was too old to be a student, and too young to be a professor. But then again, you wouldn't judge him for joining college late.

Right? 

"S-sorry, you um, you must be really late, you should go." He stuttered, your heart fluttering at his dimpled chin and thick accent. His eyes were gleaming in the morning sun, captivating in a way that left you in awe. 

"Um yeah, I am." You nodded, composing yourself, hoping that you didn't look too sleep deprived or disheveled, "where are you going, if you don't mind me asking."  

"Um, the architecture wing?" He said, unconsciously stepping besides you.

"Oh, I'm going that way. Is it your first time coming here? Haven't seen you around." You asked, trying not to stare at his sharp jawline and the way the morning sun hit him just right, illuminating and accentuating his curly brown hair. 

"Yeah, it's my first lecture, so um, looks like I'm late too." He smiled. It was infectious, you noticed as you mirrored his expression. 

"Oh, you're a student?" 

"Actually, I'm a professor. Just transferred from UCL." 

So you were right, he was a professor. He looks so young though. You thought, nodding at him, your thoughts interrupted by his laugh. Looking at him with confusion, you raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, everyone says that. I started right after finishing graduation so, I guess I'm not much older than you." He smiled, kicking the small pebbles littered around the set grassy ground. It had just rained, the smell of wet ground still fresh. 

"I said that out loud didn't I?" You smirked, ducking your head to hide. 

"You did." 

Entering the building, you realised that you hadn't asked which subject he taught, crossing your fingers and hoping that he would replace the old bastard that taught you cultural architecture. 

"I forgot to ask, which lecture do you teach?" You asked, looking for your class in the end. The hallways were empty, it was way past your first lecture and all the students were already in the auditorium. 

"Oh, uh, British History." He answered. You didn't let disappointment show too much on your face, smiling shyly before gesturing towards the class, "that's you." 

"Oh, um thank you." He smiled, pursing his thin lips together as he walked towards the class. You could hear screaming of the students as you both neared the classroom, you still standing by the door, "I didn't get your name." 

His question snapped you out of your disappointed gaze, 

"Oh, it's Y/n. Y/n L/n." You said with a smile. 

"Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom." He said awkwardly, before turning back to his class, who had yet to notice him.

"The pleasure's all mine Professor." 

For the first time in your college life, you didn't feel like tearing your hair off during your lecture, your thoughts wandering around. You wanted to berate yourself for not paying attention, but your thoughts kept going there. 

It was funny, how you met him not long ago and he was already taking up residence in your brain. You could not control your feelings after all. Something akin to nausea or excitement eased into your stomach when you pictured his smile, his black turtleneck that accentuated his biceps and pectorals. The little rebellious eyebrow and the tiny scar above it. 

It made your heart flutter, everything seemingly seemed to stop around you. It scared you a bit, how You had managed to envision the little details of his face in your brain after such a short duration. 

You didn't realise that you were smiling until you felt a nudge on your side, making you nearly jump on your seat. 

"What?!" You hissed, scowling at your classmate. 

"Who're you thinking about?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned towards you. You had known her long enough to know her name but never bothered learning, and you were too scared to ask now. 

"It's none of your business." You muttered, glancing up to see your professor scowling at a student as they stood up. 

"Well okay, but did you hear about the hot new professor? Apparently he's teaching British History, I regret not taking that as a subject now." She said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. You furrowed your brows, feeling a pang in your chest at the realisation that you were probably just another girl with a stupid crush on the hot professor, that there were already girls who would die to feel his touch. 

"How do you know about him?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you try to act nonchalant. You weren't being subtle, apparently, because you could see her snapping her bubblegum with a smirk, leaning forward as if trading secrets. 

"You kidding right? Everyone knows about him, you got a crush on him or something?" She suggested, scooting close enough to make you squirm. 

"I literally just met him, and ew, he's a professor, why would I see him that way?" You whisper, willing your heart to stop palpitating at the thought of said professor, your gut twisting in anticipation. 

"I don't know girl, he's hot and young and so much better than this bastard." She sighed, leaning on her palm with a fake dreamy expression. 

You went back to ignoring her after that, noticing how her notebook said 'Eloise'. At least you didn't have to ask her her name now. 

Your class went surprisingly well, or maybe it was because you weren't paying attention and thinking about him again. You really needed to get a grip on yourself. 

Walking out of your class, you decided to go to the cafeteria, your stomach begging for your attention.

Setting your things on a table, you took out your phone to scroll through Instagram, before switching it off and looking around the cafeteria. You didn't know what you were expecting to see, but your stomach was gurgling with hunger and nothing made sense when you were hungry. 

Walking to grab something to eat, you pick up your bag, hanging it over one of your shoulders before getting in the line. 

Just as you were about to turn with your bun and cup of coffee, you crashed into someone for the second time that day. Cursing your clumsiness, you heard a familiar British accent curse not very colourful words, making you stumble over as you tried to wipe off the hot coffee off his shirt.

"Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping your frantic gestures by holding your wrist with his to cease any movements.

"Professor Holland! I'm so sorry, it's like, I'm just clumsy. I have no excuse." You sighed in resignation, mentally facepalming at spilling your coffee at the hot professor. 

"It's okay darling, I've had much worse spilled on me." He smirked, his hand still holding on to yours. You had started walking away from the location, and yet his hand didn't let go, "You know, I used to babysit during my college days." 

"Oh, babysitting, right of course." You chuckled awkwardly, chest heaving with the sudden close proximity with the professor, dissipating the not quite PG thought that just occurred in your mind at his words.. 

"Sorry for-" You said in unison with him, chuckling. 

"You go first." He said.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on You, it must have hurt and I ruined your shirt and now there's a big splotch of coffee right in the middle!" You said, circling your fingers around your palm as you walked with your back to the exit as you walked out of the cafeteria, food forgotten and him following your pace. 

Before you could continue your awkward blabber, you were standing in the garden outside, leaning against a pillar with the garden in your view looking golden in the setting sun. He was standing in your view, the shadows around his jaw making it look sharp enough to cut glass. 

Taking a breath, you looked up at his smiling form with confusion when he didn't answer, instead leant onto the pillar next to you.

"You were... gonna say something?" You reminded, smiling awkwardly as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Oh? Oh! Oh yes yes, You know, I was kind of disappointed that you weren't in my class, Mister Wilson talks very highly of you." He said, folding his arms on his chest, it made his biceps bulge. 

"He does?" You looked at him with surprise, guilt panging in your chest when you remembered yourself bad mouthing the professor not long ago. 

"Yes, says you're a bright student with a bright future." He answered, leaning his head back so that his neck was exposed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped, his hair falling into place perfectly against his forehead. The arch of his neck was beautiful, tracing it with your eyeballs as you imagined which other curves of his were as beautiful, immediately dismissing those thoughts, chastising yourself for thinking such a way of a professor. 

"That's… sweet of him. I've never heard him compliment me once in the two and half years I've been in his class." You chuckle, leaning your elbow on the pillar to get a better look at his side profile. 

"Hmm, he says he's hard on you because he wants you to do your best..." 

You stopped listening past that, your breath growing more erratic the more he talked, his smooth voice washing over you like warm honey with a squeeze of lemon. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, your heart leaping, leaving you nauseous and in a dream like trance. 

Tom noticed immediately, noticing your slouched posture as you stared at him with a small smile, the upturn of your lips so inviting that he almost dived in, wanting to know the feeling of them what they felt like against his. 

He wasn't the kind to date his students, in fact, he rarely dated after joining uni and becoming a professor. 

He strictly believed that student/teacher relationships should end in only a professional non romantic set up. That was all up until he crashed into you that morning. 

You had been in his mind all day, stirring him crazy as he imagined your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your subject of interest, the say your fingers fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger. 

He wondered if this feeling would last forever or become a vague memory, an attraction of hearts that didn't last but felt good till it did. If he was rushing, or if you even felt the same way. 

He was smart, of course that's how he became a teacher, but he still couldn't place your feelings. 

So when he saw you staring at him, his heart leaping in his throat at your adorable smile, the only logical answer his brain gave was that you liked him too. Temporary attraction or not, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in it's mouth. 

Next thing he knew your lips were crashing onto his, your chest pressed against his firmly as your hands reached up to the base of his neck. 

Your fingers were soft, tongue swishing against his as he opened his mouth to let you enter. His hands automatically reach for your waist, holding onto firmly as he slammed you against the pillar. 

The sun was nearly down, the last of the rays hitting the garden, lighting you both up in a golden glow that left you breathless with a fire raging in your souls. 

"What do you say that I audit for British history? I'd like to learn more lessons from you, Professor Holland." You said, breathless against his chest, hiding your nose against his sternum, blood rushing to your ears as his warm hand burned against the bare skin underneath your shirt. 

"That would be great darling, anything to see your pretty smile every morning." 

A/N: let me know what you think! :)

[lazarettta]

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

~~

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

[mel-the-fangirl]

The Escort

Walter Marshall x Reader

Words: 2,064

Warnings: none

Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo... Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!

Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!

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

You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn't. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.

The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.

Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.

Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.

For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.

Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.

Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.

Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you,  let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.

Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.

Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.

“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink

Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.

“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic

“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex...”

With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.

The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren't hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister's wedding?

The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little. 

Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister's wedding. It was your baby sister's wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.

Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.

Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.

Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough. 

There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how's your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).

"Lordy fuck." you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle

How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of "hot single males in your area" waiting to meet you.

Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?

Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.

You were blindsided, that's the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, "Why can't we be more like them?"

It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you're putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock. 

After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That's how you ended up earning six figures a year. 

Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.

But even with all that, there weren't any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.

Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn't exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour? 

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?

Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.

Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.

With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.

Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.

The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.

Mostly because he didn’t need them.

Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!

Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.

A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.

You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!

“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!

You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.

Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.

What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?

Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.

Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”

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

The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.

Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.

What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?

You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times. 

Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.

“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard

Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.

“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own

The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.

“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”

Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.

“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”

There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.

“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking. 

Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.

He had a glittering five star rating.

One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.

That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.

“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”

“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”

“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going

There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.

“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”

The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?�� You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[cabinofimagines]

You’ve got some really bad habits

some can be interpreted platonically, and others are not up for debate. Lucky enough, I have more than enough bad habits to draw inspiration from (that’s not something to brag about, I know.) - day

warnings : nothing too serious. things that seem quite trivial ig, but bad habits nonetheless

requests : Could you do a fic where the seven and whoever like checks up on the readers? They take care of them and their unhealthy habits?? Thank you!

P e r c y

Biting your nails

The two of you were lounging on a picnic blanket on top of half-blood hill, watching as the sun set sooner than either of you would have liked. You laid back on Percy’s arm, one hand rested on top of his chest and feeling it fall and rise with every breath.

He made a noise suddenly and raised your hand to his face, examining it closely and sighing, “You’re still biting your nails down to the nub I see.” His lips rested against the middle finger, turning his head to connect eyes with yours, “You promised you’d try not to do that anymore.”

You looked away guiltily, pulling your hand away, “I tried, but it’s hard to break a habit like that.”

He chewed his lip in thought, “Hey, my mom had the same issue, and she had this nail polish that helped her stop.” He looked back to you with a small smile, “I’ll ask if I can borrow it next time I visit!”

A n n a b e t h

swearing

It wasn’t like it was a big deal, it certainly didn’t make her uncomfortable and she actually thought it was really funny. Annabeth always looked forward to hearing which combination you could come up with next and how it would fit the situation you used it in.

But when you visited Olympus on the occasion of returning one of the gods stolen pieces and came out with more than on swear, she felt like it should be discussed where you can use this language. She was laughing a little when she reprimanded you, so you didn’t know if she was serious or not but promised anyway to watch what you say and where you say it.

F r a n k

Being late

Poor Frank must be a ball of anxiety by now, you thought. You were running late to your first date with Frank and that was not something for you to be late to. There was no excuse to use to cover for yourself. Your time management has always been a big flaw of yours.

You swung open the door to the cafe to see Frank sitting there tracing the lines of the wooden table. Apologies left your lips before Frank even knew you were there, his face relaxing once he realized you hadn’t stood him up after all.  

He laughed and assured you that he was just glad you came at all but commented on your horrible time-keeping skills. You smiled at his light-hearted nature and promised you’d work on them just for him. The occasion became sort of an inside joke between the two of you afterwards.

H a z e l

Biting your lip

It was hurting both of you in entirely different ways. For you, it was peeling your lip, causing it to bleed and become more sensitive than it ought to be. For Hazel, it was tormenting to watch the plump flesh being pulled and bit between your teeth, only to be let go with a silent pop.

She stayed quiet about it for the most part, deciding that kissing you whenever you did so and when it was appropriate was enough to stop the habit. But you did it one too many times today, causing even the good-tempered Hazel to snap.

“Good grief, y/n” she sighed exasperatedly, “can you not go one minute without biting your lip?”

You stared wide-eyed at your girlfriend, entirely unused to her scolding. You couldn’t help but laugh and lick your lips to tease her further, “What else am I to do that keeps them preoccupied?”

J a s o n

Cracking knuckles

Jason hated the sound so much. Anytime you did it, he would make a face and express how much he disliked it. It was a point of teasing at first and he made it a point to show you how much he hated it by giving you a certain look that was manufactured just for the times you did that.

It was the breaking point for Jason when you did so in front of him when you were out with Leo to buy some Christmas presents. He gave a groan and spun to look at you with that look again, “Y/n please stop doing that! At least when I’m around.” His voice softened when he saw the embarrassed look on your face. 

Leo mumbled a “yikes” and turned into the first store he saw; a boutique.

You rubbed your arm uncomfortably and whispered a small, “I’m sorry” before walking into the shop behind Leo, leaving Jason to regret the way he handled the discomfort.

P i p e r

Not being able to say no

Okay, you’ll admit that you were crying, but you weren’t going to admit why. You were supposed to meet up with Piper to play Volleyball with her and a few others, but when you didn’t show up, she got worried. She didn’t even knock which is what took you off guard.

She watched as you hurriedly tried to wipe away the tears, but they just kept coming. Piper moved to sit beside you, turning your head so she could see your red eyes, “What’s wrong? You didn’t show to Volleyball, did something happen?”

You shook your head and forced a smile, “Just tired, Pipes. I’m sorry and I’ll make it up to you.”

Her head turned in thought, eyes searching your own for an actual answer. You were about to make a joke about your tears when she spoke up first in an accusatory tone, “You know you’re not obligated to say yes to everything, right? You’re stretching yourself too thin and it’s stressing you out!”

You gaped, stammering for words but finding none. She sighed at this and collected your hand in her own, kissing the back of it, “Let’s start by not rescheduling volleyball and letting you make time for yourself instead.”

L e o 

Waiting to do things last minute

You were hurriedly throwing your things together; you were being picked up from camp by your family soon; and by soon that means that they are actually waiting at the border for you at that moment. You were mentally cursing yourself for bringing so much with you to camp, but you weren’t expecting to stay just for the summer this year.

Leo sat in your desk chair, shaking his head at your procrastination, “Y’know you could’ve at least packed the things you don’t use--”

You shoved the rest of you clothes into your suitcase and threw yourself on top in order to shut it, “You know I work better under pressure!” With one suitcase down, you moved to grab another to fill it with the rest of your belongings, “Besides, I don’t have to bring everything back home!”

He sighed and rested his head in his palm, “Okay yeah but there’s working under pressure and then there’s stressing yourself out.” But it didn’t seem like you were listening to him, too busy running through the list of things to take in your head. He resigned to letting you be for now; he would work on your bad habit when you came back to him.

W i l l

Wearing hair ties on your wrist

You’d only just woken up, barely eaten anything that morning when Will was at your table. You glanced up, startled by his arrival, and turned to face him, “Can I help you?” But his eyes weren’t on your face, but on your wrist on which held many marks from the hair tie you kept there.

He pointed, “You know that’s not healthy.” seeing your confusion he continued, “Wearing that on your wrist can actually cut off blood circulation.”

You hummed and turned your wrist as you examined the black hair tie, “Well not to sound ungrateful for the information, but I think there are more life-threatening things in my life than a hair tie.” You gave a smile and turned back to your food without another word. You then watched Will wander out of the dining hall.

You didn’t talk to him for a few days after finding all of your hair ties cut in half after breakfast.

N i c o Staying up way too late

You had no clue when the sun had set. Ever since Apollo decided to set the sun around 4-5 every day, you always assumed it was much earlier than it was. So, when Nico swung the door open to the arts and crafts center, you couldn’t tell if his expression was due to his exhaustion or if he was completely over your bad habit.

“Do you have any clue what time it is?”

You were frozen, feeling like you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “uh it’s 3 pm somewhere!”

Nico sighed and leaned against the doorframe tiredly. Silence overtook the room, and you knew that he wasn’t going to leave until you did too. So, you capped the paints and put away all of the crafting tools you drug out for your project. You didn’t comment on the small smirk of victory on Nico’s pale face, you’d deal with that tomorrow.

.

.

.

all fics taglist : @beneaththeiceandsnow​

frank zhang taglist : @goldglitteryfoxtrot

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link’s problems with the Enneagram

I have now watched both Enneagram EBs and the second one actually set my gears to work (So Anon here it comes! I promise it was spontaneous).

After listening to Link and mostly Rhett talk about the Enneagram again and again, I realised I have a problem but I can not place its exact root. There is either something fundamentally wrong with the Enneagram itself or maybe it’s Rhett and consequently Link who talk about it in a way that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

My problem and cause of concern was that everything that was said during the two podcasts had a clear negative tone to it. I will have to bring in myself to it to give you an example so bear with me for a paragraph. I did the test and I am a 5 (Investigator - Observer, something like that) which suits me rather well, especially since it agrees perfectly with my Myers-Briggs INTP type. The results said I was a 5w6 (essentially an emotionless analytical robot) which is definitely wrong as I am clearly a 5w4 (a sad mess who analyses the world and searches pointlessly for the true meanings in life and wants to come up with the ultimate all-encompassing philosophy). I mean, OK, they are not described exactly like that but trust me, that’s the point. But despite all the flaws associated with it, especially in the fields of socialising and tremendous procrastination due to an insane fear of failure, I am actually very much in touch with it. I revel in analysing, in trying to see the bigger picture, to make up my own theory about life and the world. It gives me fuel to go on, it fills me with excitement, it gives me a purpose.

Now, what I kept hearing from Rhett and Link are the things they would hope to run away from. I can’t seem to remember a single positive thing they said about their personalities. All traits they mentioned ( which were all pretty one-dimensional for both I dare say) were presented in the context of torturing them and having to confront them. With these insights in their personalities and the spiritual deconstructions earlier, their old (surprising back then) statement that they are “fundamentally sad people” makes more and more sense. Some of their traits, like Link’s care for perfection to the smallest detail and his moral concerns could have been neutral or positive but, no, they are almost all given as clear negatives or at least as things that have an emotional toll on them.

This gives me the impression that Link and especially Rhett have found comfort in studying the Enneagram and try to find an explanation for what they are like, to feel part of a group, represented in their misery. In short, they focus on the analysis of the flaws of their personalities as a part of who they are and avoid dealing with the root that caused said flaws. Link is more self aware while Rhett still struggles to reach the root of it, which is his childhood. Not that he doesn’t know it but he can’t just deal with the people and the situations that impacted him enough to make him a three. For instance, Rhett seems to believe that he is a natural three that his parents made manifest even more strongly. It could be the case or the threeness we observe in him is the direct product of his parents’ constant judgement. By keeping chanting he needs to “be” instead of “do”, I am not sure Rhett will achieve much. Honestly, the one impactful step he needs to take is to stop caring about what his father thinks and I am sorry to say he is still not near achieving this. Especially when I take into account how scared he was during his videocall with his dad in GMM and how relieved he looked after the call was over without drama. In short, my problem with their take in the Enneagram is that it seems that Three is Rhett’s pack of unresolved issues rather than his complete personality type.

Furthermore, Rhett speaks knowingly about all numbers / personality types which proves he consumes passionately all Enneagram information that is available. For a man of his level of active lifestyle, hectic schedule and impatience, this shows that he indeed seeks comfort in finding a detailed description and an explanation for his personality, for the way he feels and acts. What does this mean? Well, that he does not like the way he feels about himself a lot. Not only that, but he is actually in a search of self. At this point, he is no longer cryptic about it but it is more serious than he lets on. He tries to make sense of himself and he tries desperately to find something in himself to love. I hope there are people in his life who let him know that he is worthy of their love, friendship and appreciation even though he is so deep inside his head that even the affectionate feedback can only help so much. Rhett will start finding some peace only if he takes the one step I mentioned above.

And then it seems that Link’s personality type is also exclusively a byproduct of his childhood and is aggravated by his relationship with Rhett. Link’s perfectionism doesn’t cause him enthusiasm - he just dreads the disturbance of his supposedly perfectly stable world. In all honesty, Link doesn’t strike me as an ambitious person. Link would just love to have his dear routine and a loyal person to share it with. Link needs stability and companionship. He is fine with just one person as long as this person contributes to the stability of their bond. Who that one person is in Link’s life is another story…

Link doesn’t care that much about the creative process and, frankly, he doesn’t care all that much about the comedy. Link cares to keep the environment Rhett and he work stable and safe. For Link, judgement from the audience is not as alarming as Rhett’s frustration because of it. Link cares to ensure that Rhett’s idea will be successful enough to keep working and to keep working together. So Link’s entire self-identification as a one seems to stem from his fear of abandonment and worthlessness only. Link fears he has not much to contribute to Mythical and he tries to counteract that by becoming the ultimate source of management and control. Because if he didn’t even manage the company, then what would Rhett need him for? Hence, Link’s obsession for control is a consequence of his fear, he doesn’t necessarily love to be in control for the sake of it. This is proven by his plane example, which shows that he finally relaxes when he does NOT need to be in control.

Link has been working hard most of his life to ensure his position next to Rhett. This brings even more insight in his resentment for Rhett that explodes from time to time. Link resents Rhett because he tries so hard to be always by his side but due to Rhett’s opportunitism, he can’t tell whether Rhett wants his companionship or he simply needs it for their brand. Even worse, Link dreads that the reason Rhett is his friend is because Link feeds his ego with his loyalty and admiration, because he takes Link for granted and not because he loves Link for who he is.

“Do you care for me or do you revel in the fact that I care for you?”

Now, I can’t get inside Rhett’s head but I doubt he uses people. I believe his genuine care for Link can be found in the weirdest examples - those from which Rhett has nothing to gain i.e getting frustrated when Link doesn’t enjoy food as much. Yes, this is a sign of love. Rhett enjoys food so much that he wants to share that enjoyment with Link. He can’t realise Link’s tongue works differently - he thinks Link is missing out and it frustrates him. Another silly example is Rhett buying Apocalypse equipment for a clearly disinterested Link and probably never getting its money’s worth back. This is important to Rhett for some reason and he is concerned enough to protect careless Link as well despite having no personal gain from it.

The truth is that these two men feed off each other; Rhett keeps Link attached to him to always feel worthy and Link keeps Rhett attached to him to always feel safe. However, the fact that Rhett is almost his entire source of safety and that Link is Rhett’s biggest calibrator of worth is indicative of the levels of love and need. Nevertheless, Rhett and Link are not independent people. They were constantly in search of support from one another and they lost themselves in the process of satisfying others or being safe. This is something they are realising only now.

Link’s fear of abandonment is so big that it frequently leads him to an almost paranoid behaviour. It is crazy that he felt left out when Rhett communicated with the audience during a podcast whose key purpose is to… communicate with the audience. His fear here has two sides: 1) that Rhett didn’t consider him an equally important business partner so he preferred to speak directly to the audience and 2) that Rhett isn’t emotionally invested in him in order to open up to him. And by saying he can deceive people if he needs, Rhett doesn’t help Link overcome his huge insecurities. This is why Link begs Rhett to talk to him about his feelings more. He does not understand whether Rhett loves him or uses him. The notion that Rhett doesn’t truly love or appreciate him is one of his biggest fears in life.

As for Rhett, it is certainly huge growth that he starts opening up and being vulnerable to a few thousand strangers yet it all still derives from his need to be accepted by said strangers as I am afraid that the late disproportionate criticism he gets for silly stuff on Twitter and Tumblr surely don’t help him deal with his issues, no matter how hard he tries. Therefore, Rhett is trapped in a vicious circle. Besides, Rhett was overly sensitive to be hurt when Link stated the obvious; that he was being vulnerable in hopes to be understood and accepted, because that was clearly what Rhett was openly doing. However, having someone discussing openly his vulnerability immediately made Rhett retreat back to his shell because no matter how hard he tries, Rhett hasn’t managed to separate vulnerability from weakness in his mind yet.

Long story short, Rhett and Link might be Three and One respectively but I am not sure they have a good understanding of themselves anyway. They may have figured out their types correctly but they certainly narrow their entire sense of being to their unresolved issues and phobias. They entirely lack a sense of self-worth and they probably have not realised the extent of the traumas in their youth. In the Enneagram language, the nine personality types have nine levels of development. I believe Rhett and Link are either in the average levels or the mildest unhealthy level. They are certainly not in the healthy top three levels.

Their obsession with the Ennegram helps only superficially but they seem to have based an illogically huge part of their self exploration on it. The Enneagram might offer some insight but won’t offer the resolutions they long for and badly need in order to find some relief. The ones that come when you confront your environment instead of overanalysing yourself and beating yourself up because of it.

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?

[ignitedbynatsu]

Apple Juice or Beer?

A/N: @pro-crastinator14 I hope you like it!! Thank you so much again for requesting! On another note, did I start writing this as soon as I got it to procrastinate on the Freed version of HMYFI? Pssht, no.... I have kind of the idea of what I want to write, but I can’t find the right way to start it yet 🤔 Anyway I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather lately so I don’t know when it will be up, sorry 😟

Warnings: accidental under aged drinking, fighting

Genre: a bit of fluff and a bit of angst

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥��🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

"(Y/N)" Natsu whined as you were braiding your child's hair, finishing it off with a red ribbon at the end.

"What is it, love?" You hummed as you opened a bobby pin with your teeth to pull some stray hairs from the little girl's face.

"Can you help me train? I've been trying to get my punch to become more powerful but no matter what I do, it doesn't seem to work" he stuck his bottom lip out as he hugged you from behind.

"I can't, who will look after Nala if I'm busy with you?" You denied his request, turning in his embrace to give him a quick peck on his lips. You could see the gears in his mind spinning, but stopped him before he could speak "No, I'm not gonna let her stay with Cana. I love the girl, but I don't want her to accidentally switch Nala's apple juice with beer again"

"It was one time!" Cana called out from a few tables further.

"That's one time too much!" you stuck your tongue out at her in a playful manner.

"Well, then why don't we take the little devil with us? We'll make it like a sort of family trip" Natsu suggested as he picked up his child and tickled her side, resulting in a fit of giggles coming from the little girl.

You smiled at the little interaction in front of you "alright"

The three of you and Happy left shortly after. Nala was placed in Natsu's shoulder. Eyes wide open as she kept pointing at random stuff "I want that, mommy can I have that?"

"Aye sir- wait" you giggled at the Exceed that was being held by you, ruffling his head in the process.

"No, you can't have the bunny." Nala pouted at you dismissing her request "Besides, we already have Happy"

"We're here" Natsu announced, eyes growing wide with excitement as he took in the wide open space in front of him.

He placed Nalu down and ran around to scan the area.

"You think it's big enough?" You called out to him as you took a blanket out of your bag where Nala and Happy could be seated while you and Natsu trained.

"Definitely" he replied as he waited for you to get in your fighting stance.

Once you were sure your child and Happy had everything they needed, you positioned yourself a couple of feet away from your husband.

"Ready?" You asked as a smirk was playfully playing on your lips. You missed the adrenaline rush you felt when you were fighting delinquents. The way the blood rushed through your cheeks while your heart was beating against your rib cage at a higher speed than what one would call normal. Don't get me wrong, nothing could beat the happiness your child brought you. It was just an old passion that you couldn't practice as often as you once did.

"I'm all fired up" he mimicked your smirk before charging at you.

You blocked his flow with a sand wall, which he used as a stepping stone as he hurled himself at you. You rolled away right before his fire ignited fist could make contact with you.

You took the opportunity once Natsu's fist connected with the ground to lock him in place, sand wrapping around his limb to prevent him from moving.

You jumped up, ready to hit him with the heel of your foot, but he was quicker. He broke himself free from your sand prison and used that memento to hit you. You felt the warmth of his flames lick your soft skin as he missed you by just a hair.

"Daddy! Daddy! Stop! Don't hurt mommy!" You could hear your child cry as she got up from her place underneath a tree to run towards the place you and Natsu were standing, breathing heavily.

Nalu had finally made it to the two of you and tugged at her father's pants in an attempt to stop him "don't hurt mommy"

As you heard the soft sniffles of your daughter, both you and Natsu's head snapped in her direction, alerted at the sound of her crying.

It was difficult to hear what the upset child was saying through her hiccups as tears kept spilling out her eyes, but you heard it just fine.

You picked her up, and as soon as you placed her on your hip, she clung to you like you could disappear any second if she were to let go. Her soft wailing breaking both Natsu and your heart as you did your best to comfort your daughter "baby what's wrong?"

"Daddy nearly burned you" she managed to get out in between sobs. Your eyes flicker to Natsu, worry written all over your face "I don't want you to get hurt, mommy"

The loud sobs had died down and had been replaced by soft sniffs. Her tear-stained cheeks were still damp, but no new tears were falling.

"I'm fine, baby." you reassured Nalu as you tried to get her to lift her head, so she could look at you "mommy is completely fine. Daddy would never do anything to hurt mommy. I promise you"

"We were just training, princess. I would never hurt your mommy" Natsu said as he gently stroked your daughter's hair before making a small flame appears in his hand "look, I have complete control over my fire"

Nalu instinctively flinched away at the sight of the flame so close to her. The frown on Natsu's face deepened as he noticed the small movement of his daughter. Was she scared of him?

"Nalu, baby, what's wrong?" Natsu asked as he crouched down a little, so he was now on eye-level with his child.

"I see you and uncle Gray breaking stuff in the Guild when you fight. I just don't want mommy to get hurt like you hurt uncle Gray when you fight" she mumbled as her head was laying against your chest while looking at Natsu, her hands still grasping you tightly.

"I would never treat mommy the way I treat uncle Gray. I love your mommy very much, and I promise to not fight her with my fire again, will that make you happy?" Natsu suggested to which she nodded her head as she sucked on her thumb.

Her grip finally started to lose as you felt her get heavier too. The intensity of the situation had drained her of her energy. Natsu's reassuring words put her mind at ease, resulting in her letting sleep take over her body.

You carefully gave Nalu to Natsu as you picked up the blanket. "Let's go home, I think we could all use a nap"

"She's scared of my fire" Natsu mumbled, a heavy sadness lingering in his voice as he looked down at his daughter that was cuddled in his arms.

You hugged him from behind as you gave a kiss on his left shoulder blade "she'll come around. Once she fully understands the concept of magic, she'll see there is nothing to worry about. Maybe go a bit easier on Gray next time or at least have your brawls when she's not around."

"I was planning on doing so, but I can't make promises for that bastard" he stated as the two of you walked back to the guild. "Anyway, do you now agree that my first option was the best?"

"I will not let my daughter drink beer again!"