#to all my friends and mutuals: do not be alarmed ! it me :3

[digitaldollsworld]

CHANGING MY LAYOUT TONITE FR THIS TIME

[mickyschumacher]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.

That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.

His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.

Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.

A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.

Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.

"Is the car really that fast?"

"Can I go in the car?!"

"I hope you win!"

You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.

The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.

You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.

The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.

Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.

The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.

You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.

The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"

You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.

The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.

You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"

The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.

"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."

The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.

You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.

Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.

You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."

The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.

You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.

You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.

You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.

Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.

You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.

All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.

Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.

But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.

Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.

God, he was an animal. The worst.

"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.

Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.

"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."

You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.

Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."

Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?

You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.

Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."

Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.

"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.

"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.

Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."

Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.

Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.

"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.

Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.

"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.

Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.

You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.

Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.

Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.

"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.

"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.

"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.

Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.

Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.

He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.

Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.

A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.

You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?

You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.

Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.

Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.

"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.

Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.

Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.

He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.

Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.

"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.

You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.

Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.

You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"

Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[doitforbangchan]

Little Tease - Bangchan

This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear

This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)

Masterlist

Not proofread :)

Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 

You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 

‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 

‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 

‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 

That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 

It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 

It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 

You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 

It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 

“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 

“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.

The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 

“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 

Oh my fucking god no way. 

“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 

“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 

Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 

You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 

You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 

“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 

“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 

‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 

“Put me in my place?” 

“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 

It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 

As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 

Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 

“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 

“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 

“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.

 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 

“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 

“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 

Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 

“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 

That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 

Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 

“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 

He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 

“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 

“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 

You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 

He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 

Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 

You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 

Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 

He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 

“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 

His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 

You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 

He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 

“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 

“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 

Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 

He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 

“Please. Want it Channie.” 

That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 

“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 

When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 

When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 

His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 

Or maybe he would keep you. 

It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.

“Channie…. ‘M close.” 

Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 

At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.

Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 

You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 

“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.3°

: pt.1° | pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.8k idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, TONS of smut, use of cock ring]

-

"Jungkook, you can't be serious," you're limping around your home following the cause of your headache.

"I am," he deadpans. He pushes your throw pillows on one side of the couch and plops himself in it. "Back to your room, Y/N. Or do you need me to tuck you in?" he teases with a grin.

Tired from the day and your ankle still throbbing with pain, you huff and retreat to your room. You don't bother closing your door.

"You coming?" You call.

A second passes. Then another. He didn't fall asleep already, did he?

A thud is heard from your living room. Then, Jungkook appears in your doorway.

Shirtless. You gulp, trying not to salivate. He knows he looks good; he doesn't need the boost.

"You're insatiable," he chastises, but at the same time, he's walking closer to you. "But you need to rest, babe." His hands softly rub your head, then tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not that. It's cold outside," you roll your eyes. "Can't have you getting sick, at least not until your game tomorrow. Your team needs their star player," you jest.

Jungkook only giggles, already claiming his side of your bed. The side that's always been his. Even before this whole friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook always slept on the right side of your bed during sleepovers or when he needed to crash the night after a long practice.

You lived a bit closer to the rink—that was his excuse to the guys on his team when they teased him. Also, his mom agreed that it wasn't safe for him to be driving late at night, especially when he was already tired. Sure, she didn't know he slept in your room, but it was all 'platonic' then. The important thing was he was getting good rest. It really wasn't because of your warmth beside him in bed and that he found comfort in seeing you after an exhausting day that made him sleep better. Or so he thinks.

It's a tug-of-war when it comes to him admitting how he feels on certain moments.

"Hey, get your head out of the gutter, Jeon," you mimic his words earlier.

With a pout but round eyes filled with mischief, Jungkook retaliates with tickles. In a fit of laughter, you try to get him to stop, "Gguk.. my fo—ot."

"Oh, shit," he raises his hand to stop. "Sorry, babe."

Catching your breath, you throw him a glare, "You're lucky I can't tackle you." Jungkook responds with by nuzzling his head in your neck and littering pecks on your neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbles between kisses.

You let out a chortle, "You're the one wreaking havoc on my bed, Jeon."

He hums coyly in reply.

"Hey," you nudge his head on your shoulder,"Thank you."

Jungkook tilts his head and and kisses your lips. "Always," his voice soft, sleep slowly penetrating him. You let a minute pass until his breathing evens out, and then, slowly and very carefully, you press your lips to his forehead.

"Night, Gguk," you whispered.

-

You were a morning person. And from the moment you wake up at 6 A.M, you follow your routine to a T.

The alarm goes off for the second time and the clock already reads 6:13 A.M. Your hands struggle to reach your phone on the bedside table and it doesn't help that Jungkook keeps pulling your body further down the bed. Your hips are pinned with his tattooed hands, back arched from pleasure, and legs dangle on the edge of the bed.

Kneeled at the foot of your bed, Jungkook pushes his face deeper between your thighs. His warm tongue switching between sucking and flicking your clit. The lewd sounds of wet pleasure and your breathless moans echoes around your room, drowning the blaring alarm.

You plead for more. You want more. You need more. More pleasure, more of Jungkook. So, you grab his head and push him towards your sex while you buck your hips. Jungkook only groans in response. You can feel your orgasm nearing, but right before you unravel, he pulls away.

"Fucking insatiable." Jungkook licks his lips, tongue catching every drop of you, "And I love it." He stands, his hard cock springing and leaking, then reaches for something in your bottom drawer. But before his hand could re-emerge from the box, you already know what to expect.

Both of your breathing picks up, eyes meeting each other. You were the first to break away. Your eyes traveling down to where his hands are—one shamelessly pumps his dick and the other holds a vibrating cock ring.

With your good foot, you push yourself back up to the bed. "Good girl," Jungkook smirks.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?" You taunt.

"Nah, I plan to wreck you, babe."

Cock ring in place around his dick, Jungkook aligns himself to your cunt. He's only a tip in and you can already feel the vibrations. Jungkook feels good, too. His brows furrowed, mouth hang open and quiet moans spill.

Truly insatiable and impatient, you pull Jungkook by his arms, "Wreck me. I want all of you, Jungkook."

The sounds your mouth and pussy make and the smell of sex permeating the air intensifies the pleasure Jungkook feels. He would love to start every day like now—buried inside you, your pussy clenching and sucking him back in every time he pulls out. Your whines grow pitchier every second, and Jungkook knows you're close. But he wants to prolong this moment, despite his cock throbs with want to release. So, he plunges deep into your pussy and stills. The cock ring still vibrates around his cock and sits perfectly in line with your clit.

Tears gather at your eyes and while you're always pretty, this look you have when you're being fucked dumb has to be one of Jungkook's favorites.

"Wanna cum," you plead. You're at each other's mercy, but it's Jungkook who drives you to orgasm—coming undone and moaning in unison.

The moment passes, and you both hiss at sensitivity from the vibrating cock ring.

"Wear my jersey to tonight's game, yeah?"

-

Loud sirens go off as the box opens, and the players run to the ice.

Your eyes are quick to scan the huddle, looking for the man with the 97 print on his jersey.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms. "Welcome to the beginning of the hockey season. Now, Neil, who do you think will be our star player this season?"

"Easy question, Jack. I would place my bets on Jeon Jungkook. This kid is dubbed the golden maknae of their team and to outsiders."

You agree. Jungkook truly excels in everything he does. And while it may seem as if things come easy for him to strangers and mere acquaintances, no one sees the early mornings and long hours of work he put in to be the best.

"What a phenom. I've heard at least 3 NHL clubs would love to have him on their roster. Truly an incredible young athlete. And if you haven't seen him before, you're in for a real treat."

Goal after goal has been made within the past 50 minutes. On the ice, Jungkook glances at the bright scoreboard. It's neck and neck, and the crowd chaotically shouts. He hears their team name louder, he thinks. And he can't help but feel driven at the thought that one of those loud cheers of his name is from you in the stands.

"It's your shot, Jeon," his teammate shouts as they pass around the puck. Jungkook is terrible at multitasking, but as he dodges the opposing team trying to get the puck, he quickly peeks at the side of the bleachers where he knows you always sit. It's a brief moment, but he sees you—hair tied with green ribbons, their team color, and you're wearing his old jersey. He was right, too. You were screaming his name.

He smirks. Speeds up, and the rest happens in quick succession—Jungkook shifts his hockey stick to take the puck, glides it to the center, and makes a goal.

The cheers grow louder. Despite remaining seated among the jumping crowd, Jungkook was quick to find you again, and you made eye contact. He smiles and you blow him a kiss back.

-

Still high on adrenaline, Jungkook slams his hips behind you. His sulky mood earlier from not being able to fuck you in the showers turned a 180 because he's reminded how much he prefers this view, anyway. His hands pull at your braid while you're fucking yourself back into him.

A strangled call of his name leaves your mouth. He doesn't like that you're holding back your moans. Slipping his cock out of you, he holds your leg delicately and flips you within the tight space of his car, knocking the breath out of you.

Above you, Jungkook's abs glisten with sweat, and his tip slick with your arousal and his. You sit up, wincing from the discomfort from your foot, and pull him for a kiss.

He loves it when you get this eager and hungry for a kiss. It has him fucked. Not only does it make him rock hard but it has his heart constricting, too. It doesn't help that no one else has made a mess of him like this. And he’s not just talking about the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure he gets every time you have sex.

Years ago, he thought he made peace with the fact that all you could ever be was best friends. But ever since your arrangement, his desire for you grew. He didn't even think it was possible, but here he is a year later. His arm clung to your waist, laying you on his backseat cushion. Jungkook continues to thrust into you. He picks up his pace, and his eyes are glued to your juggling tits before he bends over, pushing his cock deeper into you, and attaches his mouth to play with your right nipple.

As he always does each time you fuck, he makes sure your pleasure comes first. If he can't be outright with his feelings, Jungkook secretly hopes that the way he fucks you—putting you first and taking care of you during and after sex, conveys his feelings and intention. And with every kiss you pull him in for, the unspoken words at the tip of his tongue would smooth over yours.

He would never deny that the attraction towards you has always been there, but he's not shouting it from the mountains either.

At least, not yet.

Plus, he thinks that if you really wanted more from your no-strings-attached arrangement, you would have said so. And he isn't that stupid to be the one who will bring it up, all because his heart and his dick is in-sync. He'll wait it out, he decides. Whether it's for his feelings to subside or for you to feel the same and beat him to confessing, you've always been braver of the two of you, anyway.

He'll wait.

For now, he's willing to give parts of himself that you want to take.

Jungkook's fingers squeeze in between your bodies, and it reaches your clit. Two fingers aggressively rub the hood of your clit while his thumb softly flicks at the nub. In a matter of seconds, you squirt. And Jungkook can't wait to drive you home and do it all over again.

-

>> Page 4

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[moanz111]

✩°⋆｡ system error ⋆｡°✩

synopsis ✧ you've always dreamt of having your fantasy-like love story. naturally, hearing the sweet melodic ring of your love alarm was what you wanted the most, right? until it actually happened. four times.

pairing ✧ uni student! choi san x fem! uni student! reader

featuring ✧ ateez; huening kai, choi yeonjun, choi beomgyu (txt); huh yunjin (le sserafim); i.n (stray kids) + other side characters who appear sometimes or are mentioned

genre ✧ smau + some written chapters, university au, soulmates au, humour/crack, fluff, mutual pining, slow burn, enemies (???) to friends to lovers

warnings ✧ occasional swearing, mentions of parties/alcohol, lots of teasing between beomgyu and reader as a love language, questionable jokes, small age gaps + english is not my native language so there might be some mistakes!

any other warnings will be put in each chapter! please tell me if i've missed something! ♡

start date ✧ 5.06.2023 ♡

end date ✧ tba

status ✧ ongoing, updates will resume soon

notes ✧ hi everyone! i'm very excited (and nervous) to post my very first work here! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy writing it! lmk if you want to be added to the taglist! can't wait to start this journey with all of you! ♡

credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!

chapter list ✧

profiles - lo$ers, teezers, more side characters

ch 1 - would you still love me if i was a worm?

ch 2 - drunk tutor meeting

ch 3 - lost in the lights - written

ch 4 - message not delivered.

ch 5 - that's what she said

ch 6 - a pathological liar

ch 7 - family activities

ch 8 - stare back

ch 9 - a shift in the universe

ch 10 - that's my other bro

ch 11 - i stayed loyal

ch 12 - my ears are burning

ch 13 - character development

ch 14 - just be more confident

ch 15 - what rhymes with loser?

ch 16 - lover boy

ch 17 - what's going on in the universe

system error, © moanz111

please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.

[haesunshin]

sunset serenade | LTY

pairing: taeyong x f!reader ft. bff jaehyun, johnny and haechan

word count. 4.3k

genre. university!au, classmates, angst, fluff, romance. enemies to friends to lovers

summary. Y/N navigates through the bustling halls of university life, surrounded by close friends Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun. Her world shifts when she's paired with Taeyong for a university project, despite a childhood marked by a painful separation. Initially fueled by mutual animosity, Y/N and Taeyong gradually uncover shared memories that reignite deep emotions. Through late-night study sessions and unexpected encounters, their hostility transforms into a tentative friendship, and eventually, an unexplainable attraction.

a/n. i'm sorry i haven't been as active i would want to be, but i came back with a new ff and i hope you will like it <3

feedbacks, likes and reposts are appreciated!

---

I jolt awake as my alarm reads 7:30 AM. Another day at university. I stretch, get up, and peek out the window. The campus is already alive with activity. I grab my bag and head out to meet my friends at the cafeteria.

As I enter the cafeteria, I immediately spot Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun sitting at our usual table. Haechan is engrossed in his phone, Johnny is telling a joke to Jaehyun, who is laughing heartily.

"Hey, everyone," I greet as I sit down with them.

"Hey, Y/N," Johnny replies with a smile. "Ready for another day of classes?"

"Please don’t even talk about it," I say, laughing. "So, what's new?"

"Not much," Haechan responds. "Just the same old stuff. Johnny's telling his lame jokes again."

"You know you love them," Johnny retorts, chuckling.

I smile and turn to Jaehyun. "And you? What's new?"

"Just looking forward to the end of this semester," he says. "I think we're all eager for a break."

We finish our breakfast, chatting about various things, before heading to our first class. On the way, I notice Johnny talking to a guy who looks strangely familiar. I squint, trying to place where I've seen him before, but nothing comes to mind.

"Who's that guy with Johnny?" Jaehyun asks, noticing my curiosity.

"I don't know," I answer. "But he does look familiar."

---

Walking into biochemistry class, I take my usual seat. Mr. Kim, our professor, enters the room with a stack of papers in hand. He smiles at the class before addressing us.

"Good morning, everyone. Today, we're starting a group project that will last the entire semester. I've already assigned the groups, so listen carefully."

I take a deep breath, hoping to be paired with one of my friends. Mr. Kim starts reading out the names, and my heart sinks when he announces:

"Y/N and Taeyong."

I look around, searching for Taeyong. When our eyes meet, I immediately notice the coldness in his gaze. He doesn't seem pleased at all to be paired with me, which leaves me puzzled.

"Hi," I say, approaching him after class.

"Hi," he responds curtly, not even looking up from his notebook.

"I guess we'll be working together," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Seems like it," he says without any warmth, leaving.

And I’m leftI wondering why he's so cold towards me, especially since he seems to be good friends with Johnny. What did I do to deserve this?

---

The first few weeks of our group project are tense. Taeyong and I struggle to get along and our meetings are often filled with silence and unspoken tension. We work in our dorms, in cafés, and at the library, but the atmosphere remains frosty.

One day, while chatting with Johnny, I decide to ask him about Taeyong.

"John, do you perhaps know why Taeyong is acting so cold to me?"

He thinks for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure, but I know he went through some tough times in middle school. Maybe it has something to do with that."

That's when memories start coming back. Taeyong... that name, that face... everything suddenly becomes clear. He was the one who saved me that night at the end of middle school. How could I have forgotten?

---

(Flashback). It’s the end of our last year of middle school. The air is filled with excitement and chatter as students gather for the end-of-year party. I’m surrounded by my friends, laughing and enjoying the festivities, when suddenly, a group of older students appears. They're known troublemakers, their smirks and glances filled with malice.

I feel a knot of unease in my stomach as they approach, eyeing me with disdain. One of them, taller and more intimidating than the rest, steps forward. "So, you think you're better than us, huh?" he sneers, his voice laced with venom.

I glance nervously at my friends, but before anyone can react, the situation escalates. Rough hands grab me, pulling me away from the safety of my group and into a dimly lit alley behind the school. Panic grips me as I struggle against their grip, my heart racing with fear.

"Let her go!" a voice rings out, breaking through the tense silence. I recognize the voice instantly—Taeyong. He emerges from the shadows, his presence commanding despite his slight frame. His eyes are steely with determination as he steps between me and the bullies.

"Leave her alone," he says firmly, his voice betraying only a hint of nervousness.

The leader of the group scoffs, his smirk widening. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? You think you can take us all on?"

Taeyong squares his shoulders, his fists clenched at his sides. "I said, leave her alone."

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Then, with a sudden burst of aggression, the bullies lunge at Taeyong. He fights back bravely, trading blows and dodging attacks with surprising agility. Despite being outnumbered, he holds his ground, his determination unwavering.

The alley echoes with the sounds of grunts and shuffling feet, but Taeyong doesn’t back down. He fights not just to defend me, but to protect something deeper—a sense of justice and courage that shines through even in the face of danger.

Finally, adults arrive, drawn by the commotion. They quickly intervene, pulling the students apart and dispersing the crowd. Taeyong stands battered and bruised, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek, but his gaze finds mine with a faint, reassuring smile.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice trembling with gratitude and relief.

---

As I fully recover and remember the events, I’m overwhelmed with guilt. How could I have forgotten what he did for me? Why is he so cold now? I need to know. But every time I try to approach him, he ignores me or becomes even more distant.

The weeks pass by, filled with tense meetings and strained interactions between Taeyong and me as we work on our biochemistry project. Each session is marked by awkward silences and terse exchanges, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie I share with Johnny, Haechan, and Jaehyun.

One afternoon, after another particularly silent study session in the library, I decide it’s time to confront Taeyong about his cold demeanor. I catch up with him as we leave the library together.

"Taeyong," I begin tentatively, falling into step beside him, "can we talk?"

He glances at me briefly, his expression guarded. "About what?"

"About us," I reply honestly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. "About why things have been so... strained between us."

He keeps walking, his pace steady but his eyes avoiding mine. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I pause, feeling frustration and hurt bubbling up inside me. "Taeyong, we used to be friends in middle school. What happened to that?"

He stops abruptly, turning to face me with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. "That was a long time ago, Y/N. A lot has changed since then."

"But why are you so distant with me?" I press, my voice pleading for understanding. "You're friends with Johnny. What did I do to make you treat me like this?"

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It's not about you, okay? It's... it's complicated."

"Then help me understand," I implore, stepping closer to him. "Please, Taeyong. I want to know."

For a moment, he looks torn, his emotions warring within him. Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet but filled with pain. "Do you remember that night at the end of middle school?"

I nod slowly, remembering the fear and relief of that evening. "Yes, of course."

"After that night," he continues, his gaze fixed on the ground, "things changed for me. I felt... abandoned."

My heart sinks as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"You left," he interrupts softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "You left without saying goodbye."

"I didn't know what to do," I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. "My parents moved us away so suddenly."

He shakes his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand. I needed you, and you weren't there."

"I know," I reply, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, Taeyong. I'm so sorry."

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and longing. "I tried to forget about that night, about you. But every time I saw you again, it brought back all those feelings."

"I never meant to hurt you," I say earnestly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I wish I could go back and change things."

He pulls away gently, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Y/N."

"I know," I say softly, my heart breaking for the pain I've caused him. "But I want to try to make things right. Please, Taeyong."

---

Our meetings for the project continue in our dorms. Despite our initial animosity, a certain camaraderie begins to form between Taeyong and me. Gradually, I find myself enjoying his company more than I expected.

One evening, as we were working late in the library, Taeyong breaks the usual silence with a question. "So, Y/N, what made you choose biochemistry?"

I look up from my notes, surprised by his sudden interest. "Oh, well, I've always been fascinated by how living organisms function at a molecular level. It's like solving a puzzle, piece by piece."

He nods thoughtfully. "That makes sense. It's impressive."

"Thanks," I reply, feeling a bit flustered by his compliment. "And what about you? What's your passion?"

Taeyong hesitates for a moment, as if considering his answer carefully. "I've always been drawn to music," he finally says. "It's my way of expressing myself when words fail."

"That's beautiful," I remark, genuinely touched by his honesty.

As the night progresses, our conversation flows more freely. We share anecdotes about our childhood, discuss our favorite books and movies, and even joke about our initial dislike for each other. Surprisingly, Taeyong has a dry sense of humor that catches me off guard, making me laugh more than once.

At one point, he looks at me with a small smile. "You know, Y/N, I’m glad we started things over, you're not as bad as I thought you were."

I chuckle softly. "Likewise, Taeyong. Turns out, we might actually make a decent team."

He nods in agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do."

---

As weeks pass and our project nears completion, Taeyong and I find ourselves meeting one last time at a cozy café near campus. The atmosphere is serene, with soft jazz music playing in the background and the comforting aroma of coffee filling the air.

I arrive a few minutes early and settle into a corner booth, watching the door anxiously until Taeyong walks in with a warm smile. He sits across from me, and we exchange brief greetings before diving into our project notes.

"So, for this section," Taeyong begins, pointing to a paragraph in our report, "I think we should emphasize the implications of the latest research findings."

I nod in agreement, impressed by his insights. "That would definitely strengthen our argument," I agree, jotting down some notes.

As we discuss our ideas and make final adjustments, I can't help but notice the ease with which we work together now. The initial tension has given way to a shared sense of purpose and mutual respect.

After a while, Taeyong sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, studying me thoughtfully. "Y/N," he starts, his voice gentle, "this project is almost done."

I look up from my notes, meeting his gaze curiously. "Yeah, it's hard to believe it's almost over."

He nods slowly. "Yeah... which means we won't have to meet like this anymore."

A pang of sadness tugs at my heart as I realize the implications of his words. "Yeah," I reply softly, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice. "I guess we won't."

Taeyong frowns slightly, his expression conflicted. "I've... I've enjoyed working with you, Y/N."

"Me too," I admit quietly, my gaze dropping to the table. "It's been... surprisingly nice."

He leans forward, his voice earnest. "Y/N, I..." He trails off, as if unsure how to continue.

I look up at him, my heart racing with anticipation. "Taeyong?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "I just... I want you to know that I appreciate you," he says finally, his words carefully chosen. "For everything. For being patient with me, for understanding."

A warmth spreads through me at his words, and I realize with a jolt that my feelings for him have grown beyond friendship. But I hesitate, unsure if now is the right time to confess.

"I appreciate you too, Taeyong," I reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "More than you know."

He smiles back, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the unspoken tension between us palpable. I want to tell him how I feel, to let him know that my feelings have changed, but the words catch in my throat.

"Taeyong," I start tentatively, breaking the silence, "what happens after this project?"

He looks at me, his expression thoughtful. "I guess... we go back to our lives," he says quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

A wave of disappointment washes over me, mingled with regret for not speaking up sooner. "Yeah," I murmur, feeling a lump in my throat. "Back to normal."

But inside, nothing feels normal anymore. Everything has changed between us, and I'm left grappling with the realization that I might have missed my chance to tell Taeyong how I truly feel.

As we gather our belongings to leave the café, I steal glances at Taeyong, my heart heavy with unspoken words. The weight of what could have been hangs between us, a silent ache that I'm not sure how to heal.

But as we part ways, I cling to a flicker of hope—that maybe, just maybe, there will be another chance for us, another moment where I can find the courage to confess my feelings and hope he feels the same way too.

---

After our emotional conversation at the café, I feel overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. That evening, I decide to FaceTime Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun to share everything that has happened with Taeyong. They answer almost immediately, their faces filled with curiosity and concern.

"Y/N! What's going on? You look like you've been through a rollercoaster," Johnny exclaims, leaning closer to the screen.

"Yeah, spill it!" Haechan chimes in, his expression serious but playful.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself as I recount the story of Taeyong and me—from our childhood friendship to our recent reconciliation over the biochemistry project. They listen intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to empathy.

"So, let me get this straight," Jaehyun says slowly, processing the information. "You've been harboring feelings for Taeyong all this time?"

I nod, feeling a rush of nerves as I admit the truth to my friends. "Yeah. I think... I think I've fallen for him."

Haechan lets out a whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow, Y/N. That's intense."

Johnny leans closer to the camera, his voice gentle. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly, feeling a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I think... maybe I should tell him how I feel."

"You've got to talk to him," Jaehyun adds, his tone encouraging. "You owe it to yourself, Y/N. Don't let fear hold you back."

Their words resonate deeply within me, filling me with determination. "You're right," I say with a small smile. "I'll talk to him."

As we say our goodbyes and end the call, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Tomorrow, I'll face Taeyong and finally confess what's been in my heart all this time.

---

The next day arrives swiftly, and with it, a mix of nerves and excitement as Taeyong and I prepare to present our biochemistry project to the class. Mr. Kim welcomes us warmly as we step up to the front of the room, the PowerPoint slides ready and our notes organized.

"Today, Y/N and Taeyong will be presenting their research on enzyme kinetics," Mr. Kim announces to the class, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Taeyong and I exchange a quick glance, our nerves momentarily forgotten as we launch into our presentation. We speak with confidence, explaining our findings and analysis with clarity and enthusiasm. As we reach the conclusion, I feel a sense of pride knowing how far we've come together.

Mr. Kim listens attentively throughout, nodding approvingly at key points and occasionally interjecting with insightful questions. When we finish, he applauds warmly, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face.

"Excellent work, Y/N and Taeyong," he praises, his voice resonating with genuine admiration. "You've demonstrated a deep understanding of the subject matter and presented your research with clarity and precision. I'm truly impressed."

Taeyong and I exchange grateful smiles, the tension of the presentation melting away in the glow of Mr. Kim's praise. As we gather our things to leave, I catch Haechan, Johnny, and Jaehyun's proud smiles from the back of the room, their silent encouragement giving me a surge of confidence.

---

After class, the campus bustles with students heading off to their next destinations. I remember my friends words and linger near the classroom, summoning the courage to finally confront Taeyong about something I've been avoiding for far too long.

"Hey, Taeyong," I begin, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervousness bubbling inside me. "Can we talk?"

He hesitates for a moment, then nods slowly. "Sure, Y/N. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I gather my thoughts. "I... I was wondering if we could meet later this afternoon. Maybe at the park?"

His eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "Sure, but why?"

"There's something important I need to discuss with you," I reply, feeling a surge of nerves and anticipation.

Taeyong's expression softens, and he gives me a small smile. "Okay, Y/N. I'll meet you there."

As the afternoon arrives, I find myself at the park, anxiously waiting for Taeyong. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. I've dressed in a floral dress, hoping to look pretty, and with an hopeful feeling inside me despite my jittery nerves.

When Taeyong arrives, he looks genuinely surprised to see me there, setting up a small picnic under a shady tree. He sits down beside me, and we start chatting casually, the unspoken tension between us palpable.

After a while, the conversation naturally slows, and I gather my courage. "Taeyong," I begin, my voice trembling slightly, "there's something I need to tell you."

He turns to me, his gaze intense and expectant. "What is it, Y/N?"

He listens attentively, his gaze unwavering as I gather my thoughts. "I... I've realized that... I've developed feelings for you, Taeyong," I confess, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and hope.

He blinks in surprise, his expression momentarily unreadable. For a moment, he doesn't say anything, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. Then, without warning, he steps closer, gently cupping my face in his hands, he suddenly leans in and kisses me softly, his lips warm against mine. My heart skips a beat as I melt into the kiss, overwhelmed yet exhilarated by the rush of emotions.

When we finally pull back, Taeyong rests his forehead against mine, his eyes searching mine tenderly. "Y/N," he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've... I've loved you for a long time, since middle school, actually."

I gasp softly, my heart swelling with joy and relief. "But... why didn't you say anything?"

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. "After you moved away, I thought... I thought you had forgotten about me. Seeing you again at university brought back everything I felt back then. But I didn't know how to tell you."

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize the depth of his feelings. "Taeyong, I'm so sorry," I whisper, guilt washing over me. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He pulls me into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'm sorry for pushing you away," he murmurs against my hair. "I should have been more mature about everything."

I bury my face in his shoulder, feeling the weight of past misunderstandings finally lifting. "Thank you, Taeyong," I murmur, my voice muffled against his shirt. "Thank you for being patient with me."

"It's okay," I reply, tears of relief and happiness streaming down my cheeks. "I understand now."

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. "No more apologies, okay? We both made mistakes. But now, we can move forward together."

I nod, a smile spreading across my face. "Together."

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over us, we continue our picnic and we stand together in the embrace, our hearts finally open and our feelings laid bare, sharing stories and laughter. The air is filled with a newfound sense of closeness and understanding, a promise of a future where our love can blossom freely.

And in that moment, beneath the fading light of a sunny afternoon, I know that everything we've been through has led us to this beautiful, unexpected love—a love that I will cherish for the rest of my life, and as we walk home hand in hand, I know that with Taeyong by my side, I've found not only love but also forgiveness and a chance to heal the scars of our past, together.

Epilogue:

The next morning, Taeyong and I arrive at our class hand in hand, both of us sporting wide smiles that we can't seem to wipe off our faces. As we step through the door, the playful whistles and cheers from our friends greet us.

"Look who finally made it official!" Jaehyun exclaims with a grin, earning laughter from Johnny.

Haechan playfully whines, "I'm so jealous! Sick of being single, you know?"

This earns a round of laughter from everyone, including Taeyong and me. Jaehyun and Johnny clap us on the back, grinning broadly. "About time, you two figured it out!" Johnny exclaims with a chuckle. "You had us all waiting forever."

Jaehyun nods in agreement. "Seriously, though, we're really happy for you guys. You make a great couple."

Taeyong and I exchange a shy smile, as he squeezes my hand gently, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "Thank you, guys," he says sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

As we settle into our seats, the warmth of our friends' support surrounds us like a comforting embrace. The class continues with Mr. Kim congratulating us on our project, commending our teamwork and dedication, Mr. Kim notices the commotion and smiles knowingly. "I'm glad to see teamwork paying off both in and out of the classroom," he remarks, giving us a nod of approval.

Throughout the day, Taeyong and I are inseparable, stealing glances and sharing secret smiles. It feels like the beginning of something beautiful, a journey we're finally taking together after so many missed chances and misunderstandings.

After class, as we gather our belongings to head to lunch, Taeyong leans in close to me. "I'm glad we took that chance yesterday," he whispers, his voice soft but filled with certainty.

I smile up at him, feeling a rush of love and gratitude. "Me too," I reply quietly. "I wouldn't change a thing."

[midnight-pluto]

Hi! <3 could you please write a mutual pining only one bed fic for a gn!reader and Nico di Angelo

MOVE OVER — nico di a.

TROPES: mutual pining, only one bed, fluff, crack-ish

UNIVERSE: riordanverse

PAIRING(S): nico di angelo x gn!reader

WARNING(S): mentions of injuries, takes place after the giant war, i slipped incorrect quote in here for funsies, also because im slightly high

A/N: mattresses don’t count as beds

THE INFIRMARY WAS bound to be filled to the brim after todays events. Even with the help of the Roman Apollo kids, it was still practically double the amount of kids injured making them bring out mattresses for all of them to be taken care of.

You were one of the many kids to get hurt during the battle, a gash on your thigh along with minor cuts and scrapes was bound to get you landed there. It was unfortunate that you ended up on the mattress on the ground but you understood.

There were others in deeper trouble.

Something you were glad that happened is that your mattress was the one closest to the window with only one bed next to you, and on that bed is someone you’d like to call you’re friend. However, you’re unsure if he would dub you the same.

Nico di Angelo — son of Hades. From what you understood, he had known of the existence of both the Greeks and Romans, yet chose to not let them know of each other. That was one of the many things you admired about him.

The way he always manages to show up in just enough time and helps turn the tide in his favor, or the way he was able to bare the fact that he was treated as an outcast just for his parent and not make the rumors true. He was someone who you truly respected.

Nothing more. Nothing less. Totally.

Nico was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was instructed by Will to sleep but couldn’t find it in himself to close his eyes for more than two minutes. He kept on glancing towards your figure laying soundlessly on the mattress on the ground.

You were one of the only ones to still smile at him whenever he passed by after the Titan War glory wore off. You were one of the only ones to not actively avoid him. One of the ones that didn’t send weary glances in his direction. You were someone who he truly respected.

Nothing more. Nothing less. Totally.

As the hour’s drifted past with nothing but murmurs and grunts filling the room Nico had drifted off to sleep along with it.

However, when he slept you awoke. Flashbacks from the past events and wars coming to haunt your dreams. Looking up only to see Nico’s back, only then do you make your move.

AS NICO BLINKED himself awake, he felt another presence in the bed. His hair was being played with was all he knew of, but it wasn’t a feeling he was opposed to. Tempted to relax once again, he fought off the urge and turned to face the other side of the bed for his eyes to only widen in surprise.

“Morning,” you smile, moving your hand away from his hair, “How’d you sleep last night?”

“What the hell,” Nico whisper shouted as to not alarm some of the sleeping patients, “What’re you doing in my bed? You were supposed to sleep on the air mattress on the floor.”

“I had a nightmare.”

“And you deciding sleeping on my bed was a solution to that problem,” he deadpanned, sitting up to face you and the pillow resting on your lap.

“Listen, I needed to feel comfortable and I was getting this weird power dynamic vibe from me sleeping in the ground and you sleeping up there,” you say, pointing to mattress on the floor and patting the sheets of the bed.

“Ah yes! How high and mighty I am up on my not even twin XL,” he deadpans, observing his and the rest of the beds in the infirmary.

“That is not what I meant—“

“Silence in the presence of your king,” Nico dramatically turned away with his eyes closed, leaning on one hand while the other was holding up its index finger as if to shush you, “Who sleeps at a lofty twelve and a half inches above the ground!”

Sighing with an amused smile on your face, not getting to see this side of him all that often, “Listen, I am not ashamed. I slept comfortably when I got up into your bed and I’m sure you did too.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You know what, I wanna know,” you lean your back against the headboard, “How’d you sleep last night?”

Sighing, he answers, “That was the best I’ve slept in a while.”

Gasping, you whisper, “The king slept comfortably with a peasant in his bed!”

“I did not consent to this—“

“But my liege our love is forbidden,” you joke, laughing softly at his flushed ears and deadpan expression.

A/N: did I want to add more detail? yes. would it be just slightly out of place? yes

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 3

🚨18+Only, biker!Eddie, tow truck driver!Eddie, adult themes, mentions of smut, angst, mutual pining, slow burn, cheating (not on reader), alcohol consumption, flirting, mention of biker!Steve Harrington, 90's music & nostalgia, mention of a loved one with cancer, self-deprecation, eventual smut. Reader and Eddie are late 20's-early 30's

Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

🔸Reader and Eddie are pining for each other in secret, and reader takes bold initiative to bring Eddie a gift. The two of you keep crossing paths as this crush intensifies and complications arise.

A/N: Always look forward to hearing from you all, what you thought, or what you'd like to see happen 👀

-----------

Steve called a day or two after the initial meetup, but Katie was headed to a conference out of the state, so they didn’t make any immediate plans. The conversation started in the living room where she first picked up the phone; she made a wild hand gesture, arm pivoting from side to side at the elbow, mouthing his name to you so that you would know who it was, and then she switched to the phone in her bedroom. They talked for over an hour, and he told her he’d check back in when she was back from her trip.

“Okay, so Steve thinks that Eddie has a little crush on you,” Katie told you when she came back out to give you the recap. “He said you might have to make the first move, though.”

Your heart fluttered, but you tried to play it cool. You looked up from your magazine. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the entire time talking about me?”

“Oh, of course not,” Katie shrugged. “Only a half hour or so.”

“If I were Eddie, I’d be pissed if my friend spilled the beans like that,” you said with a tilt of your head.

“I told Steve I wouldn’t tell you he said that,” she countered.

“Well, that makes it better.”

“Steve is a really…” Katie hesitated, trying to find the right descriptive as she plopped back down on the couch. “...intelligent, charming guy. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go out with him when I get back. If he asks like a gentleman.”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”

----------

The next week came and went. You were busy, so you didn’t have much of a chance to think about the possibility that Eddie might have a crush on you.

No, that was a lie: you thought about it a lot. The bad part was, this whole feeling a chemical pull towards him was a distraction that you didn’t need in your life, and it made you do creepy, irrational things, like driving by Munson’s Garage one day after work just to see if you could get a glimpse of him.

The good part was, it had you feverishly painting until after midnight a few days in a row. You were feeling inspired for the first time in months, and even if you still had to be at work at 9am looking like death warmed over, it was worth it.

On Thursday afternoon, you were at the gallery preparing a huge piece of art to be shipped out of the country when you heard it: the unmistakable purring growl of a chopper gunning down your street. You let the corner of the box fall to the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a horrific yowl from your assistant who had been helping you wrap it up meticulously for the past hour, and sprang to the window like a little girl at the distant tinkle of Santa’s bells.

There were three of them atop their menacing leather and chrome beasts, but they were already disappearing around a corner at the other end of the street by the time you got there. The next thing you knew, you were out on the sidewalk with your hand up to block the sun, squinting, trying to see if one of them had long, dark hair. The high pitched whine of a car alarm shrilled in the distance, and a woman pushing a baby stroller had to go around, eyeballing you with disdain as she went.

---------

Meanwhile, Eddie was seeing you in the face of every woman he met, and simultaneously looking forward to the day when that was not the case. He didn’t have the energy to pine over someone, let alone have issues performing in bed because the woman wasn’t you. Having sex with other women was starting to feel like cheating, and that was an icky, embarrassing truth that he would never confess to one of his buddies.

“Oh? You can’t stop thinking about her when you fuck other women? Damn, that pussy must be tight.”

You were basically a figment of his imagination, and he was having these really gross daydreams about just….holding your hand and shit like that. Not cool, not bad ass. Jerking off to a porn or the idea of some nameless, faceless mouth on his cock was fine, but doing it to the idea of tasting your cum while his mouth was between your legs made him want to lobotomize himself with Jack Daniels.

This was dangerous, bitch-boy territory, and he honestly couldn’t say he’d navigated it in almost a decade. Maybe he’d been hanging out with Steve “Loverboy” Harrington for too long, listening to him get all goo-goo ga-ga over some new chick every other week. But also, he envied him; Steve didn’t just sip the juice when it was good, he let himself drown in it, over and over again.

Eddie shrugged it off and acted like he didn’t care the day Steve told him that he talked to your roommate, but then he came back around a few hours later and asked him if he was planning to meet up with her again. “You should call her friend,” Steve told you. “She digs you, Katie told me.” Katie told him no such thing, as she had a very strict girl code, but Steve couldn’t help himself.

So yeah, Eddie drove by your work on Thursday. Innocent enough, but the part of town where you worked was very high-end, and nowhere near the place him and the boys were headed, but nevertheless, he gave the signal and they followed. One of his buddies ran with the Coffin Kings---a bearded monster they called Tank----and he got a kick out of rumbling his hog close to the expensive cars parked along the street to shake the foundation and make their alarms go off.

He didn’t even turn his head to see through the glass storefront and check if you were inside, that wasn’t the point: he just wanted to be in your orbit, to drive down a street that you parked on every day.

Holy shit, Munson, why don’t you just put your tap shoes on and break into song about it?

--------

On Friday, you left work early, announcing that you had a very important appointment, and then you went and sat in your car around the corner from Munson’s Garage for a half hour. It took you way too long to work up the courage, listening to an album by the band Hole, specifically the song Violet. A gang of bikers rolled up to the stop sign across from you, and you did a comical job of sliding down in your seat so they wouldn’t see you.

Once they were gone, you looked down at what you had in your lap; a gift wrapped up in brown butcher paper and tied with jute string. “This is so stupid,” you told yourself, putting your car in gear to drive away, but then you flipped it into park again with a pensive groan.

After a dramatic pause, cursing as you went, you circled the block one more time and then entered via the open gate at the side entrance. The main garage and supposed clubhouse for the Coffin Kings---the spot where you had dropped the boys off the week before---was to your left, but ahead of you was another garage, and the wide expanse of a junkyard full of wrecked cars behind a fence. Your eyes landed on the black tow truck that Eddie drove, giving you hope that you hadn’t missed him. A row of motorcycles were lined up in the middle of the pavement, and then to the right there were angled parking spots under an awning, and that is where you went.

Your stomach bleated its discontent when you saw that there were at least 10 or 12 guys in biker cuts hanging outside near the grill, flipping burgers in front of the main garage, blocking the entrance to where you would most likely find Eddie. They all had the Coffin Kings insignia placard on the back of their leather vests, and they were tossing back beers and taking shots. After you parked, you craned your neck to see if Eddie was one of them, but there were a few obscured by one of the pillars holding the roof up. Surely, he would’ve spotted your car as you inched along at an elderly crawl.

You took a minute to fix your hair and makeup in the visor mirror, practiced stretching your lips in a grimace smile a few times to make sure there was no lipstick on your teeth, and then made the leap.

-------

Eddie should’ve been down with the guys getting hammered, or having a game of pool in the club house after a long week, but no. He was on the second floor in his apartment, getting in some bench presses before he showered and continued on with his evening of laundry and trying to get to bed at a decent hour for once. He was listening to Slayer, but the widow was open and he could hear them all giving each other shit down below.

In between songs, at the end of a set, he heard a different type of ruckus going on outside and it made him sit up, sweat dripping into his eyes and down his neck. The guys were giving wolf whistles and saying something about “look at that fine piece of ass” and Eddie didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to go down and investigate.

That was when he opened the door and saw you making your way across the parking lot. You were carrying something flat and square in your hands and you looked like you were cautiously assessing the scene, like maybe you should return to the safety of your car, and he didn’t blame you.

“Cool it, fuckers,” Eddie told the guys as he pushed by some of them to go out and head over to meet you. But he could still hear them saying things to each other under their breath, whispering about you, and how good you looked.

He didn’t want you to be there, in that moment. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want the other guys to think you were just some whore he was fucking, or worse yet---he didn’t want any of them to think that they could fuck you. He tried to walk toward you at the right angle so that you would be blocked from their view, inadvertently squaring his shoulders and asserting his dominance as he went.

-------

You had a feeling this was a bad idea, but you had no idea how bad until a dozen pairs of eyes were turning to stare at you, narrowing on you, and unabashedly so. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, and there was heavy metal music blaring from inside the building somewhere. You planted your feet, looking around, wondering what you would do if Eddie wasn’t there: hand over the cutsie little gift to one of his biker buddies? You didn’t want to embarrass him.

But then, the door opened and there he was, frowning at you like you were the last person on earth he wanted to see. It was more of a scowl, actually, eyebrows knitted together and upper lip rising in an abominable snarl. He said something to the rest of the guys, and a few of them seemed to snap back to reality, but he couldn’t wipe the pissed look off from his face as he made his way over to you with an air of reluctance.

He had on a white wife beater and jeans with his boots unlaced. The front of the tank was damp and his arm muscles were especially defined and swollen. You could see that he had some kind of huge, tattooed chest piece that came up to his clavicle and stretched over his shoulders. Various other ink decorated his arms; the one on his forearm being the most faded of them all. Your pussy fluttered at the sight of him, even though he looked like he was ready to put his hand around your throat. Or maybe because of it?

“What are you doing here?” He barked in a voice low enough so that only the two of you could hear it.

His attitude was not your favorite. “Well, hello to you too, grumpy.”

Now you wished you didn’t have the stupid gift in your hand. Couldn’t you have left it in the car and waited to see if he was here first? No, you had to bring it with you, and now it was too late, dummy.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder at the guys, jaw muscles flexing, and then he gestured for you to walk with him over to where your car was parked, under the awning, out of the overcast but bright sky.

He put a hand at your elbow and maneuvered you so that you were facing away from the riff raff, the view of your backside blocked by your car. There was a matte black Chevelle parked in the slot next to you, and he leaned back against it, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Sorry about that,” he told you. “We usually keep them locked up during the daytime.”

At his joke, your shoulders softened and you exhaled, flexing your fingers on the package. The movement caught his attention and his cocoa brown eyes shifted to the gift.

“You said to come by whenever, but I should’ve called,” you hadn’t planned out what you would say, but now you wished you had.

“No, no,” he assured you, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I promised you a spare tire. I haven’t forgotten.”

Truth, you had totally spaced that he said he’d give you a free tire, which was no small expense, but it was a much better reason than, “I made you something because I can’t stop thinking about you,” or “here’s a gift, now let’s kiss.”

“What’s that?” He asked the dreaded question, tilting his chin at the package and meeting your eyes down the end of his nose.

“Oh this?” You asked cheerily, feigning mock surprise, as if it slipped your mind that it was in your hand. “This is nothing. Just a thank you for...the tow and the tire. I made it, it’s no big deal.”

“You made it?” His voice flew to a higher octave than he was comfortable with at that revelation, and an invisible warm hand wrapped around his heart.

Scratching your eyebrow, you passed it to him. “You don’t have to open it here,” you added, hoping he wouldn’t.

He held it in both hands, strong fingers curling around the backside as his thumbs stroked the front of it to feel the texture of the paper. It had been a while since he’d received a thoughtful gift that wasn’t booze or scratch tickets or a Hickory Farms sausage and cheese platter.

Overall, he was speechless, but one thing that did come second nature to him was offering acts of service as a way of showing his appreciation. “Let me take this up to my place, and then I’ll get you that tire. Can you wait here? I’ll just be a second.”

He was already on the move, but you stopped him. “I can’t sorry, I have to go. Rain check?”

You put your hand on the crook of his elbow without thinking, to stop him, and then all you could think about was the heat of his skin, the way the hair on his forearm tickled your finger. His eyes went to your hold on him and his Adam’s apple jerked in a quick swallow.

You lowered your hand. “Maybe I’ll surprise you again one day,” you were blushing now and you moved your chin to your chest to try and hide it. This was feeling less and less like an interaction between two grown adults, and more like some high school crush that you giggled about to your friends and wrote little hearts around each others name in class.

Over your shoulder, Eddie could see that Wayne was coming that way with an invoice in his hand, probably to ask him a question about one of the pickups that day. He looked a bit pale and peaked, and even though Eddie begged him to take the day off work whenever he had chemo treatments, the old man refused to listen.

“Okay, so, I’ll see you around then,” Eddie heard it come out of his mouth and he wished he could take it back. The tone was off; he sounded like he didn’t care if he saw you again, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay, bye,” and you were back behind the wheel of your car, panting, wishing you had a paper bag to hyperventilate into. In the rear view mirror, you watched an older man with gray hair meet up with Eddie. His clothes were baggy, as if he’d suddenly dropped a significant amount of weight. Eddie clapped his free hand on the older man’s shoulder and they walked back to the garage together at a slow pace, your gift in his hand swinging level with his wallet chain.

--------

After finishing up for Wayne and demanding that he go home to get some rest, Eddie was finally alone again in his apartment. The string you used to secure the package might as well have been steel bars with how tight it was tied, and so he reached over for the butterfly knife on his nightstand and popped it open with a few flicks of his wrist. He sawed the string with caution, careful not to puncture whatever was in it.

His heart was racing and his palms were a little sweaty, and for some reason, the rising of sweet emotions made him angry. Just settle down there, bucko, the voice in his head told him, she probably gives gifts to anyone who does anything remotely nice for her; this doesn’t make you special.

He touched the black painted edges first, realizing it was a canvas, and then the back side fell open to him first: To: Eddie, my hero, and then it was dated and had your name signed on the wood cradling.

Turning it over, he had no idea what to expect, but as his eyes took it in, a quivering sigh escaped his lips.

It was a piece of art depicting the sunset exploding from beyond the low hills in Hawkins; the view you see from the freeway from the exact spot where you had blown your tire, the spot where the two of you had met for the first time. It wasn’t just a standard scenery painting either; it was abstract and full of texture, with tiny bits of paper collage added in. Bright, bold colors, with tiny hand drawn details.

He took down his framed Dio poster so that he could hang your 12x12 painting across from his bed where he could see it from all angles of the room. He puffed his cheeks out and blew air from his lips to make a low whistling sound as he stood there admiring it, wishing he would’ve opened it in front of you, so that you would know how much he cherished it. You might never know how much a gift like this meant to him; it was immediately one of his prized possessions.

Absently, he crumpled the wrapping paper and string up in his hands, pounding it into a compact ball, so that he could make a jump shot for the trash can, and then made it in with a swoosh.

What he didn’t see crushed inside the ball was the square, pink piece of paper with a little note on it that said: “I know Steve has this number, but I also wanted you to have it. Call me sometime.” and then your phone number in cute, block digits.

-----------

Another week went by, and you had officially resigned yourself to the fact that you would, indeed, die alone. Putting yourself out there, even as infinitesimally as you had with Eddie, almost killed you. Getting excited every time the phone rang, hoping it was him, had you regretting the choice to ever make a move in the first place. Besides Katie, you were the only single person in your friend group, and that’s just how it would stay until Keifer Sutherland proposed.

Steve called Katie though, and even though she had the feeling he was a bit of a player, the idea of jumping on his cock had her chomping at the bit.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked as she dowsed herself with hairspray in the bathroom mirror, an L7 cassette in the tape player. You were just behind her in the hallway, and you leaned back to avoid the fumes. “I can hang out with Steve a different night, I don’t want you do go to Marysville alone.”

Marysville was a town down the road, not fifteen miles away, and there was a huge gallery opening in an old airplane hangar, and as the manager of Moon River Gallery, you were forced to attend.

“That’s sweet of you, but Jeff will be there.” You held your breath and waved your hand in front of your face. “But I’m counting on you to get laid for the both of us.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to let Steve know what a deadbeat his buddy Eddie is for not calling you to even thank you for that gorgeous painting.” Katie was using her protective mom voice.

“Please don’t,” you begged her. “He just didn’t want to see me again, and that’s fine. I don’t need someone to call me out of obligation. Really, don’t mention anything to Steve or I will turn to stone and crumble to pieces.”

Katie went into your bedroom instead of hers, and held up a certain shirt, asking if she could borrow it. “That’s actually yours,” you told her, waiting on the bed as she changed.

You were putting your arms into your jacket, just about to head out the door, when Katie came around the corner holding up flavored condoms and Magnums in each hand. “Do you want to take any of these with you? Plenty of cute guys in Marysville.”

“No, thank you,” you assured her politely, fixing your collar. “Besides, I’m sure Jeff will have a stockpile with him.”

But Katie threw one at you anyway, and you caught it with a slap to your chest. “Here, just take one of these Magnums, for prayer’s sake.”

----------

The airplane hanger gallery was situated near the lake, and it was an unarguably stunning venue full of massive artworks and expertly blown glass. You and Jeff arrived together, but went your separate ways initially, both stumbling upon friends from other galleries you knew, and you sipped some expensive champagne while you mingled. You were bent over, reading the details about one of the paintings, when two of the new people arriving caught your eye.

Fantastic, it was Eddie and Charlene.

Charlene looked like she was a movie star about to walk the red carpet and Eddie looked as good as ever. From the waist down was dressed like normal: jeans, boots, and wallet chain--but he always put a nice dark red or black shirt on for the events. Three buttons undone down the front to give a peak of that chest tattoo, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a little earring dangling from one ear, and those chunky, silver rings on his hand. Obviously the two of them were a couple, regardless of the fact that she was married, and regardless of the fact that Eddie referred to himself as being single.

He escorted her in with his arm linked in hers, and you could tell he was about to fall back and head outside to wait, but then his eyes locked on you. You turned your back on him, guzzled your champagne, and then headed over to where you could get a big glass of wine, thirstier than you’ve ever been in your life. Jeff had volunteered to drive you both back, and you had just decided in that moment that you were going to let him.

You were a couple of swallows in when you felt the front of his warm body press up at your side, against your arm, hands in his pockets, and then he leaned his head down closer, wavy dark hair skimming your shoulder, to whisper in your ear. “Your art should be in a place like this.”

“Oh hiiiiii,” you turned, pretending to be shocked to see him. “What a nice surprise. How are you?”

He backed up a step to give you some room, not checking even once to see where Charlene was or if she cared where he was; his eyes were intent on you.

Jeff, was off to the side, flirting with one of the guys on the catering staff, when he glanced over to see who you were standing with, and his eyes bulged wide.

“You clean up good,” you told Eddie, getting intoxicated on how delicious he smelled. Almost two glasses of alcohol in, you were already getting ballsy, and you reached up to brush his hair back from his shoulder and straighten his collar. “You look like you could run for mayor.”

He glanced down at himself, and then met your gaze from under his lashes, full pink lips curving up on one side. “I was going for Colombian drug lord, but I guess I missed the mark.”

Okay, so he made you laugh and he was sexy. So what.

Someone you knew came up to hug you and say hello, and you expected Eddie to take advantage of the moment and make a getaway, but he stayed.

“Can I get you another one?” He asked, gesturing to your almost empty glass. Never mind that everyone was glancing over at him, asking themselves with shifting eyes who the hell let the scary biker dude in to mingle with the rich people. The irony of a bunch of art snobs recoiling at someone who brought something new and different to the table was not lost on you. Sure, he made them uncomfortable, but who would be the one to ask bad boy biker Eddie Munson to leave? Eddie could flick his lighter open and set one of the paintings on fire, and still no one would question him.

“Aren’t you here with someone?” You asked, glancing around for that big gold explosion of wealth that was Charlene.

“No,” Eddie said initially, but then. “Well, I drive for Charlene from time to time but we’re not...together, if that’s what you mean.”

Eddie could feel Charlene giving him the evil eye from across the room, but he didn’t care. He stopped having sex with her two weeks ago, but he wasn’t ready to give up the extra cash working as her personal escort service and hired muscle.

Staying sober for the night, he brought another glass of wine over to you, and then he started asking you questions about the artwork and the artists as the two of you walked.

“Isn’t that Charlene Gregson’s boy toy?” Manny, one of the caterers, asked Jeff as they watched the two of you flirt with each other.

Jeff nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh, this is going to be juicy.”

There was a snap high on the back of your shirt, and you could feel that it had come loose, so you beckoned for Eddie to follow you to the walkway just beyond the paintings, into the shadows, so you could put your glass down on the cement base of one of the pillars.

“Could you...help me with this?” You turned your back to him and pulled your hair to the side. “Fasten this for me, please? I can’t reach it.”

Eddie licked his lips as he closed in behind you, enjoying the proximity of it, and moved his fingers to your neck, callouses from his fingers grazing your smooth skin, taking an audible, deep intake of breath as he caught a whiff of your shampoo. When he was done, his hand slid down your back, indulging himself, letting it land at the curve of your hip in a slow circle. “All good,” he said in a low whisper.

You spun around to face him with a crooked smile, the alcohol in full affect, and your eyes fell on a loose thread that had escaped and was resting on his crisp, dark red shirt, your eyes lingering on the black ink of the tattoo underneath.

You brought your hand up to pick the thread off, but then he caught your wrist, your palm sinking flat to his body, melting, right at the epicenter of his life blood; his heart racing. You shifted your gaze from his grip to meet his eyes, pupils dilated, and your breath caught in your chest; your fingers started stretching out and back against him in an alien form of physical communication.

His lips parted, gaze flicking to your mouth, holding your wrist with a grip that was firm but tender while his other hand rose to cup your face. Rough fingertips grazing your throat until they curled around the base of your head, metal rings clicking together, and then his thumb brushed across your jawline.

You bit your bottom lip softly, delirious need pulsing in your core.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Your voice was tiny, and his eyebrows knitted together, confused. You could see he was just about to say something, but then:

“Eddie,” the unmistakable voice of Charlene Gregson called to him from the other side of the gigantic painting you were both doing a poor job of hiding behind. “It’s time to go. Please pull the car around?"

She was looking directly at the two of you from only a few yards away, with her hands on her hips, but still he held your palm to his chest and searched your eyes, trying to understand. After a beat, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry,” under his breath before turning on his heel to go and play chauffeur again, shoving one hand in his pocket to get the keys as he went.

Charlene stood there and stared at you for a bit longer, her eyes taking you in from head to foot, probably trying to understand what you had that she didn’t. But it must’ve occurred to her that she was the one he was going home with and not you, because then she flipped you a little sly smile and puffed a laugh out of her nose as she turned, shaking her head.

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

Part 4

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my lovelies who asked to be tagged: @hellv1ra, @tlclick73, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @ms1oftheboys

[alienaiver]

Behind the scenes

the lovely @dira333 tagged me in this and its sooo fun!! the questions are so amazing and id like to give it my best with some in depth answers, since learning these facts about one of my favorite writers here was so fun !!!!! behind the scenes of writing is so good to share!!

Started writing: i think ive always been writing. i remember when we used to have one computer for the entire family in the early 00's and had little screentime, i set alarms to 4-5am (with no concept of what that Would Do To Me emotionally without sleep LMAO) JUST to get some time to write in peace. my first fanfictions i published was on a homemade forum page with a friend when i was 11!

Started blogging: ive had my tumblr since 2009-ish where ive been a rp'er over multiple times and published d gray man and no. 6 fanfictions in 2011-12ish. i was also active on livejournal before i found fanfiction.net !! but this specific blog was made in may 2021!!! the reader inserts came then :3

Followers: i actually JUST hit 300 two days ago!!! which is very exciting. i dont always look at the number, since it doesnt necessarily correlate with engangement, but its fun to see the uptick!!

Communication: i genuinely love love LOVE the social part of social media, and communications so important to me. theres nothing better than reblogs with comments you can bounce off of, asks, dm's and all that! sadly, my disability makes it so hard for me to have continuous contact and im 90% of the time the one to drop the ball when it comes to replying :(( thats why its extra important to me/special with the mutuals who keeps reaching out and dont have the same social expectations about replying. even if im unable to reply the day that i receive the message, it still brings great joy seeing the notif!

Likes: i dont mind them! generally its not that important to me whether or not my followers interact a lot. a like still means the world to me. of course a reblog is much better and engages so much more (+ boosts me!!), but theyre good for my soul, too!

Requests: i get very few requests :( i think i like them, but i havent gotten enough to actually get a feel on whether or not it kills my writing spirit? generally i get very excited to be able to deliver something and it gets me up from the bed to write, but i sometimes fear im not providing what they wanted! its anxiety-inducing in some ways, but i love a good little writing challenge !!

Writing: i loove love love love writing for hours at a time, hyperfixating on it. sadly, my cat snøfle is Very Jealous of both my laptop and pc. giving him a substitution sadly doesnt help</3 so my writing is often limited to specific times of day, and when he gets tired of my keyboard clack-clack-clacking, its time to put on some one piece while he naps on me! i wish i could write more works or just scenes on my phone, but it hurts my hands So Much, so i only write small one shots when im heavily inspired but snøfles in A Mood!!

genre wise im a fluffy type. maybe some hurt/comfort but always leaning towards comfort. id like to write more disability fics to spread both awareness and visibility, but i sometimes struggle with putting in my own disabilities and not make them too personal or too detailed for others to not relate. its an overthinking problem, so i often procrastinate writing them., bcos i fear itll be too niche! but i always get positive feedback (excpet for that one time with inked coffee lmao) so im not sure whats holding me back!!!

i always listen to music when i write, and it differs a lot. when i wrote the star and the earth i listened to a lot of medieval-inspired music, and made a specific playlist for that. but when i write on my modern au's or canon compliant bnha/haikyuu, anything goes!

i love putting in 'boring' every day stuff into my fics, or small scenes that dont necessarily advance the plot but just gives a feel of the characters.

speaking of snøfle ^ i am no longer allowed to write for the evening.... so ill start some apothecary diaries and enjoy a cold soda on this hot and humid evening !!! mwuah mwuah if u read this far thank you, and i love you. i love all of you <3333

no pressure tags as always but would love to hear the answers and get to know u all! @cup-of-fluff @true-deru @mirandabarma @illuminiscentboba @tetsuskei @threadbaresweater @krystalgaia @petriquors @ktsumu @moonbeamwritings @ohtokki

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you. 

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it. 

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that. 

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you. 

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods. 

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces. 

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug. 

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I… Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless. 

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle. 

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you. 

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath. 

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you? 

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

next chapter

[liaromancewriter]

Passing Time

Premise: It’s a long drive to Naveen’s cabin, giving Cassie to reflect on recent events. Set during 1.16.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,130

A/N: Submission to @choicesjunechallenge prompt "fantasy". I'm using @choicesflashfics week 39, prompt 2 (in bold). Also using #3 Grumpy Affectionate dialogue prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting. Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills

Cassie Valentine watched the scenery gradually change once they left the Boston area. Low-rise office and apartment buildings competed with strip malls and box stores built near interstate exits to attract suburban shoppers.

Eventually, the vista gave way to evergreen trees and those beginning to bloom again after a harsh New England winter planted along either side of the highway.

The view was monotonous, but thankfully, she thought the drive wasn’t excessively long and checked her wristwatch. The stop at Harvard Medical School’s research building to collect the phage therapy had taken longer than expected, and the sun already hung low in the sky.

Her phone remained silent, and she took that as a sign that Dr. Banerji was still holding on. Landry would have texted or called if his status had changed. At least, Cassie hoped so.

Two months ago, she’d have said she knew Landry Olsen very well. But now she wondered if she saw the person she wanted to see, not who he really was.

They had bonded on the first day of residency over their mutual admiration for Dr. Ethan Ramsey. But the man was also the source of their fallout. Landry’s jealousy of her bond with their medical hero had caused him to sabotage her career.

She rationalized that Landry could’ve tried to get to know Dr. Ramsey. Even before she knew about Naveen’s condition, she had tried to get Ethan to notice her. But her former friend had been content to pine from the sidelines, never once introducing himself properly to the other doctor.

She’d had to ask for Ethan’s autograph on Landry’s behalf, for crying out loud!

“Are you okay? Is it Naveen?”

Cassie turned her head at the alarm in Ethan’s voice beside her. His brows furrowed in concern as he glanced at the phone in her hand.

“Yes…I mean…no,” she stammered. “Sorry! I was lost in thought.”

“Must have been something bad,” he drawled, accelerating to overtake the car before them. “You looked ready to go into battle.”

“Nothing quite so dramatic. Although,” Cassie mused. “I suppose fighting for my medical license would fall in that category.”

“An apt analogy,” he said quietly.

Cassie twisted in her seat to face Ethan. “Have you ever been subject to an ethics trial?”

She wondered if she had gone too far, but he answered anyway.

“No, but I’ve skirted close to the line. All good doctors do,” he added. “Our work isn’t black or white; the answers aren’t always obvious. So, we have to take chances even if, and especially when, the outcome is uncertain. Naveen taught me that.”

His voice hitched on the last, and she found his vulnerability incredibly appealing. The companionable silence stretched as the car ate up the miles.

Cassie glanced at Ethan out of the corner of her eye, surreptitiously studying the scruffy jaw, the corded muscles of his neck and how his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed.

She felt her cheeks turn red as she recalled standing in his bedroom, her naked butt plastered against the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Her hands locked behind his head, pulling him close while his tongue repeatedly brought her to the edge of completion.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, and she remembered how tightly he’d clasped her hands in his last night just before their hips connected. Her mind wandered into a fantasy that was just as good as reality.

He was clothed now, but she’d run her hands across the taut muscles of his chest and strong shoulders last night. Her nails had raked down his naked back before her palms cupped his ass, her hips rising to meet his hard thrusts, her moans matching his grunts.

Oh god. She’d had sex with the Ethan Ramsey!

“Now what?”

She must have made a sound, for he briefly took his eyes off the road to stare at her, an eyebrow quirked in question.

“We had sex, Ethan,” Cassie blurted, losing her composure at the sight of impatient blue eyes, so much like how she remembered them from the first time they met.

He smirked. “Yes, we did. Multiple times if I recall correctly.”

Amused, Ethan winked at her before switching lanes and exiting the interstate. The car slowed to a stop at a red light at the top of the off-ramp, and he grinned at her.

“Are you blushing? Didn't have you pegged for a prude, Cassie.” His fingers traced her hot cheeks, and he stared intently at her lips. “Especially not after you mooned all of Boston last night.”

“Oh, just shut up, I’m not blushing!” she protested, wondering if there was any way she could check her reflection in the overhead visor mirror without Ethan noticing.

He chuckled, the deep rumble reminiscent of round two last night when she’d begged him to let her climax after he’d teased her over and over with his hands and tongue. Just like then, the sound sent a spike of lust and arousal through her body.

“For the record,” he drawled, leaning in, his lips hovering above hers. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Cassie waited for the kiss with bated breath, but the light turned green, and the driver behind them honked.

Ethan lifted his hand in a wave and took his foot off the brake, turning left to join the country road toward Naveen’s place. Cassie remembered the turn-off from the drive earlier today and knew they had maybe fifteen-twenty minutes left.

Time to get serious, she lectured herself. Naveen and Landry were highly observant, and she needed to keep her emotions for Ethan under wraps.

A short while later, they were on a dirt road and could see the top of Naveen’s cabin ahead. Ethan parked the car beside a wood shed, switched off the engine and just sat there, staring unseeingly at the cabin walls outside.

“There’s still hope, Ethan,” she said gently, remembering his self-incriminating words earlier about letting his mentor down. “For you and Naveen, too. Your relationship isn’t broken.”

“I don’t know what we are, but I miss what we were,” he said. His earlier lightheartedness was replaced by profound sadness.

“And what is that?” she asked.

“Naveen believes in you, and I do too,” she insisted when Ethan didn’t respond.

Ethan twisted his lips wryly. He covered her hand resting on the console between them and squeezed it in silent gratitude.

Cassie longed to wrap her arms around him and pull him close in comfort. But someone might be watching from inside, and their alone time was at an end.

“We should go in, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie said, pushing the car door open.

Ethan shook himself out of his reverie and turned to give her a small smile. “Yes, our patient awaits, Dr. Valentine.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

[gladdygirl18]

Okay okay, ik it's been a while since i posted one of these but believe me, i gotta some stories ready!!! This I feel is gonna be a relatively long post (covering 2 days and 2 nights) so to read it, it will be below the cut

Blue me, pink GF

So on the 15th, MLK Day, I had just gotten back to campus from Chistmas break (loved it, went to Disney ✨🤩) and after my father had left and dropped off some of my belongings, my GF was waiting for me by one of the school gates to head back to her place. She was so adorable and clingly cuz the last time we saw each other was the 8th when she and a mutual friend of ours came to visit my place (had loads of fun 💖🥰)

So when were back at her place, we end up watching some JJK. After a while, my GF and I went into her room to cuddle and make out (to make up for lost time) and she couldn't help but poke me and kiss my neck constantly (i felt like i was on cloud 9, I was so happy 💖🥰💖🥰) Also, we have this thing where we take turns laying on top of one another, being the others weighted blanket (this time it was her turn to be the weighted blanket) and while she was on top of me, she proceeds to tickle me, and she lets out this EVIL LITTLE GREMLIN LAUGH (very endearing) THAT MADE THE TICKLING WOOOOORSE 😳😆💖

Okay, mini side rant: my GF has NATURALLY LONG AND HEALTHY NAILS that i am a bit jealous of cuz i want my nails to be somewhat the same length (and they're beautiful, easpecially when they're painted), but THEY TICKLE LIKE HELL OMGGGGG 😳😳💖

"Weighted blankets ahahaharen't supposed to tihihickle the person under thehehehem!"

"Well..... I'm a special weighted blanket~😈💖"

Once things settled down between us, we went back to the living room to socialize and watch the new Percy Jackson series; it was great. Ofc, whilst watching, my GF insisted on kissing my neck and tickling me (damn near has become a daily thing for her to do, and I am not complaining in the slightest 💖🥰)

The next day (the 16th) my GF and I just stayed in bed for about a good few hours (mainly cuz I didn't get a wink of sleep and when my alarm went off, that's when I finally fell asleep 😅) Once I had woken up and was conscious, my GF took me in her arms and just hugged me, and I proceeded to snuggle into her 🥰 before she lightly traced her nails all over my torso. I grabbed the hand that was tickling me and said, "You're nails make it tickle a lot worse!" "Well, guess I should keep them like this for a while~"

MAAAAA'AAM HELLLOOOOO!??!!?!?! 😳😳💖💖🥰 (i mean i'm not complaining....)

Later that night, my GF, our mutual friend, and I were playing some SSBU and I was getting my ass kicked: I only won twice, my friend won at least 3 or 4 rounds, and my GF won almost every 4-5 rounds in a row (so I was a little salty, and to add salt to the wound, she kept killing me, saying, "I am so sorry, I was aiming for *our mutual friend's name*") I know she meant what she said but it still kinda hurt, and I was getting tired of losing everytime (yeah yeah yeah, call me a sore loser idc....) But one thing that made it all the worth it was that while I was gaining the upper hand on her....

SHE PROCEEDS TO TICKLE ME WHILE I WAS WINNING 💖😆😂😳BROOOOOO WTFFFFF

The amount of fanfic i have read and audios i've listened to with the video game+tickle trope.... To think I would experience that omgggg!!!! And the same shit happened when we were playing Mario Kart!!😳😆 Like bro, I knew she was competitive but to think she'd use ticling as a tactic to win blew my mind 😍😍💖

Don't worry, I got her back too. Whenever she would have a perfect kill streak (kills my character 3 times) I proceeded to tickle her

"It wasn't my fahahahault! I wahahahas aiming fohohohor *our mutual friend's name*! I'm sohohohohohorry!" (her laugh is to die for I swear 😍💖🥰)

That night while we were getting ready for bed, I was still a bit salty that I kept dying in SSBU and falling off the sides in MK. My GF noticed this and proceeds to lay on top of me and says, "Come on babe, let me see your smile" When I refused, she started tickling me lightly with her fucking NAAAAILS OMGGGGG 😳I proceeded to cover my mouth to NOT show her my smile

"Come on hun, let me see your pretty smile, please~?"

After some time when I finally showed my smile, she kisses me and says with a laugh, "Ahhh, I love tickling you"

AHHHHHHHHHH I HAVE ASCENDED OMGGGG 😆😍🥰💖🥰😍😆💖 I WANTED TO CRY, I WANTED TO SCREAM OMGGGGGG!!! SHE REALLY SAID THAT! OMGGG I WANNA CRYYY 😆💖😭😭💖

After settling down, I wanted a hug (me is clingy). My GF turned around and said, "Awww, you're adorable." while proceeding to hug me

"No, I'm not"

"Yes you are. You're adorable, cute, and pretty~"

I TOTALLY wasn't blushing like an idiot 😳😳😳 (for someone to say those things to me made me feel so happy 🥰💖)

"Am not"

"Are too. If not then what are you?" proceeds to lift my face by my chin "Go on, admit you're adorable"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll tickle you~" with her signature gremlin grin

UUUUUHHHHHHH MA'AM YES THE FUCK PLEASE 😳😳💖💖😆

I scoffed and turned over, "Yeah right" (wanting to be tickled again)

"Oh, so you doubt me?" proceeds to place the tips of her nails on my belly (you could practically hear her smile, "You doubt me?"

I turned my head away and didn't answer

"You left your neck wide open babe~" and proceeds to kiss my neck and tickle my belly. While trying to push her hand away while laughing (never worked in the fanfics, def not gonna work irl 😅) she says, "Come on hun, say you're adorble!"

"Okay, okahahahay!" she stops the tickling and stares at me with her hazel-ish silver eyes. i look at her and say, "You're adorable~" (hey I said what she told me to say 🤷🏾‍♀️)

She groans before tickling harder on my stomach, making me laugh louder "That's not what I meant you little shit!" (says in a playful, endearing, and loving way)

When she stops, she looks at me and says "Admit you're adorable."

"Fine, fihihine...... i'm.... adorable..."

"Heheh, I know."

And turns over as if nothing happened. I scoff before I start tickling her back.

"What dihihihihid I dohohoho?! I didn't dohoho anythihihing! Stohohohop"

"Say you're adorable!"

"Okay okahahahay! I'm adohohorable!" (she taps out a lot quicker than me cuz she says she doesn't like being tickled and yet at certain times, she doesn't mind it in the slightest, so I'd want to think I'm rubbing off on her 🥰💖😈)

After we kissed goodnight, we finally went to bed

This was one HELLUVA tickle tea story, but again, this was in the span of 2 days and nights, so ofc there'd be a lot! I really hope you guys enjoyed this as much as me experiencing this! More TTS's to come, so stay tuned!

Edit: my bad, forgot to tag the fwends @giggly-squiggily @cutesmokes @burningablaze @lovelymessybubbly @otomiyaa @sunstone-smiles

[bonesandthebees]

500 words on the Lovejoy concert: go

500 oh god oh fuck

Glasgow was a really fun concert!! Though it’d probably rank as one of my lower ones just bc I didn’t do the whole queue all day experience so it felt a lot shorter to me (and also it was such a huge venue)

I originally debated doing the all day queue bc I was selling my ticket to a Twitter mutual of mine I’ve met up with at concerts before, and they were planning on queueing all day. But when my alarm woke me up around 6 am I texted them asking what the queue was like and they said their friends held a spot for them at 4 am and they were 24th in the queue. Like, what.

So yeah I decided that wasn’t how I wanted to spend my last full day in Glasgow lol. Instead I took a tour of a whisky distillery (I do not like whisky but it’s Scotland so I figured why not) and got tipsy off the whisky samples they gave us. Then I went to a science museum across the way from the distillery (technically it’s meant for kids but it’s meant for adults to enjoy too) so I was just slightly drunk playing around with interactive science exhibits and befriended one of the staff members lmao

ANYWAY then around 4 I got to the venue and got in line (doors opened at 7). Got some takeaway from a nearby restaurant and ate it in line, it was very spicy but it kept me warm bc it was raining so I wasn’t complaining. Then I just kinda hung out there and chatted a bit with the girl behind me! We ended up being next to each other at the actual gig and became buddies which was nice and I was actually closer to the stage than I expected to be. Also I got tired of the ‘someone holds pictures up to the crowd on their phone and lets them cheer and boo respectively’ bit that happened at a few lovejoy gigs this past year, but it was pretty funny when someone held up the Scottish flag for everyone to cheer, and then the English flag for everyone to boo (and ofc I joined in)

It was SO HOT. At first I was glad bc as I said it was raining outside so I was shivering by the time we got in, but it didn’t take long for it to get sweaty. Loupe as an opening act was SO good. I’d never heard of them before but their music was so good!! (also the lead singer and the bassist were both so pretty I was having such a gay moment). Then Goodkid performed and tbh I know a ton of Lovejoy fans love their music but I’d never heard their stuff before, but I get it now they have such a fun sound and great energy!! Definitely gonna save some songs from them when I get around to it

Then lovejoy was fantastic as always. Although we were only about 3 songs in when someone fainted and everything had to stop. I couldn’t see what was going on from where I was but I hope the person’s okay! This was my 5th lovejoy gig but it was the first time someone’s fainted at one I’ve been to.

Then we resumed and in between songs the boys would start playing this instrumental track I didn’t recognize, but I filmed each time it happened bc it didn’t just sound like random jamming. I sent the clips to firesnap after the gig and she and I both agree it sounds like snippets from a possible new song so… :)))

Also Lovejoy covered The Killers at my gig which was so good. At first I was confused bc it was a mashup with cause for concern so I got hyped thinking it was cfc and then Wilbur started singing different lyrics but it slapped so I’m so glad I got to see that in person.

Anyway overall really good gig!! Also I wasn’t getting shoved nearly as much as I have at American gigs so shoutout to the Scottish for that

Is this 500 words? Is this more? I don’t feel like plugging it into a word counter so this is what you get lol

[thru-the-grapevine]

We Might Be Stupid

Pairing: Yeo Hwanwoong x reader

Summary: Your best friend apparently thinks it’s the nineties. You call him to straighten things out.

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: idiot besties to lovers, resolved mutual pining, implied college au, fluff, humor

Author Notes: this is my first work for the Oneus Trope Bingo hosted by @oneusficevents! I’m using it for my “mutual pining” square. A little nervous about it but it was loads of fun to write, so I hope Oneusblr can enjoy it <3

It isn’t quite acceptable barging hours when you barge into your roommate’s bedroom that morning.

“I—huh?” Your roommate mumbles, startling awake at the sound of the door.

“I need to borrow your phone,” you say, pulse racing. “Please. Since mine isn’t being fixed until this afternoon.”

Your roommate frowns, eyes still closed. “What?”

“Please. It’s important. Please. I need to make a call.”

Your roommate’s eyes blink halfway open and gaze at you, only half-conscious. Your desperation must really show on your face, because they say, “Sure. Uh, you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you breathe, unplugging the phone from the charger and tapping in their passcode. “Probably. I don’t know. Thank you. Be right back.”

You find the phone app and dial the memorized number, putting it to your ear. You glance back at your roommate’s alarm clock as you take your leave and try idly to do a calculation of what time it is abroad, deducing that he won’t be asleep and he also won’t still be working. Pick up, pick up, pick up pick up pick up pickuppickuppick-

The ring tone cuts off early and the line clicks on. “Uh…hello?”

Something about hearing Hwanwoong’s voice soothes the sting of the panic in your heartbeat, even as your pulse continues racing. “You. You sent—you and your—an email?”

“Oh,” you hear him say brightly, recognition in his voice, and then, flustered, “uh—hi. I, uh, I can expl—”

“An email?!”

“I panicked!” Hwanwoong blurts. “You—your phone, it’s broken, I can’t text—can’t call either, how are you even calling me by the way, whose phone is—I didn’t know how else to—”

“Is this 1999?” You ask him, incredulous, pacing, and you can’t help a flutter of laughter. “You tell me you have feelings for me in an email?! I’m checking my email to make sure my stupid philosophy paper was turned in on time and I see you sent me something with the subject ‘Help’ and then a confession?! That could have sat there for who knows how long—”

“I only sent it, like, eight hours ago,” he protests, then splutters, “n-no, really, your phone is broken. How did you get my number?”

“Yeo Hwanwoong,” you sigh in exasperation, “I have had your phone number memorized since we were fifteen.”

“…Oh,” he says, then laughs. “God, I love you.”

“Yeah!” You exclaim, stomach fluttering with something giddy at the words. “And you said it in an email, like this is a Tom Hanks movie or something!”

“I’m—listen!” He defends, “it hit me out of literally nowhere, hard, like, think hit-on-the-head-with-a-cinder-block hard, and it was overwhelming, like what the hell? What am I supposed to do with this? And I panicked and usually I just call you when I’m panicked and I would have but your phone—”

“My phone is broken, yeah,” you say, pulse finally winding down to adagio. Your deep breath is still shaky. “Well, I’m here now. Talk me through it.”

“Out of nowhere,” he says darkly. “Truly. I was just wondering what the hell you saw in that guy you’re talking to right now, anyway, the one you keep asking for advice on, and why he keeps bothering you all the time, and then I tried to be all, ‘well, what would I see in them if I was trying to date them’, and was like, ‘I mean, sure, they’re cute, anyone with eyes can see that, and sure they’re funny, but in the smart way which is even funnier, and also they’re thoughtful and also they’re a good listener, and and and’ and then it just hit me and, I mean! What the hell, dude? I don’t even know how long I’ve felt like this? Is this normal??”

“You get used to it after a little bit,” you tell him, head spinning. Hwanwoong just called you cute. “But yeah, it’s kinda overwhelming at first, right? And scary?”

“Terrifying, oh my god,” he groans. “Like, you’re my best friend, what the hell am I supposed to do now? What if you’ve noticed the whole time and have just been staying my friend to be nice, or something?”

“I didn’t notice,” you tell him, dragging your toe along one of the cracks in the floorboards, “or I didn’t want to get my hopes up, anyway. But you’re right, that’s the vibe, for sure.”

“And like, what if telling you is a bad idea? What if you’ll feel weird now about it, and we can’t hang out and make jokes and get bubble tea on weekends and—hey, wait. Got used to—get hopes up? I—WAIT.”

Your pulse jump-starts into high gear again. “Uhhh. Suddenly I have, um, things to do—”

“Don’t you dare hang up!” Hwanwoong exclaims. “Yah! I’ll call you again! Or whoever’s phone this is—it’s your roommate’s, right? Your roommate will get sick of me! Don’t you dare! You—I—what do y—how do you know how this feels?”

“Um.” Your heart is going to ricochet out of your ribcage. “I…maybe this is, uh, not new? For me to feel?”

Hwanwoong is quiet for a second, then, “About who?”

“Dude, don’t make me say it,” you groan. “It’s already embarrassing enough to talk with you about—”

“Is it that guy? The one you’ve been talking to? Because if it is, he’s kind of an idiot and he doesn’t appreciate your sense of humor nearly enough but like, I can take it, I’ll support you and the mediocre boy, it’s okay if—”

“You! It’s you! You dumbass!” You cut him off, shrill. “You’re the idiot! God! You are absolutely unbelievable! I am hanging up the phone!”

“No, please! Pleasepleasepleasepl—”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, slumping down onto your bed. “I’m not hanging up, you can calm down.”

Hwanwoong sighs, sounding winded. “What are…why are we like this.”

“Beats me,” you mumble.

“You…have feelings for me?”

His voice is gilded with hope. You want to melt into the bed and die. “I…yeah.”

Hwanwoong sighs again, shakily, but you can hear him smiling. “How…when did you figure your side out?”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassment prickling under your skin. “….like, two years ago.”

There’s a long, excruciating silence on his end.

Panic bubbles up in your throat. “But like, in my defense, that was the year you suddenly were, like….a man? I-I mean, something…happened, because suddenly you weren’t just a kid my age, you were, like, attractive. Which, like, how dare you, by the way? You were supposed to be my cute little bestie forever, but nooo, you had me helping you post thirst traps, and shopping for clothes you looked hot in, and like, what was I supposed to do? So yeah, I thought I was being painfully obvious and that you were just being kind. But no, you’re just an idiot, but like, I guess I was too—”

“I love you so bad,” Hwanwoong interrupts. “You were in….dude, since two years ago?”

“If you think you get to make fun of how long I’ve loved you when you sent me an email—”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m, like, pissed,” Hwanwoong says, but he’s laughing. “Like, doing the math, connecting the dots, it’s…yeah, I think I’ve felt like this about you since then, too, which is dumb as hell. All that time, and we could’ve…”

“Ugh,” you say, emphatic, dropping your head back against the bed and glaring at the ceiling. All that pining for nothing.

“We…might be stupid,” Hwanwoong says, still snickering.

Hwanwoong is in love with you. Holy shit. You can’t stop grinning. “You, uh. Wow.” You turn over on your side and grab your laptop, which you’d left open to his email on your bed when you rushed to call him. You begin reading aloud. “‘So in the weirdest turn of events I didn’t see coming, I think I may be, like, really in love with you somehow’. You don’t say. You simp for me that bad, huh.”

“I—you—I don’t—” Hwanwoong starts, then sighs.

You laugh.

“Wait, wait, oh my god, is this why I caught you checking me out all the time?” Hwanwoong asks.

Now it’s your turn to splutter. “I—I didn’t—I wasn’t checking y…uh. Well. Maybe.”

Hwanwoong snickers. “Busted.”

You sigh. “How much longer are you away again? Semester’s almost over. It’s been, like, eighty-four years.”

“Um, lemme check,” he says, pausing for a few moments, and you can picture him lifting his phone from his ear and tapping over to his calendar. “….ugh. Another week and a half.”

“Ugh,” you agree. “Too long. You need to come home so I can go full Spanish Inquisition on you about this.”

“Same,” he says. “When are you getting your phone fixed? It’s been killing me this week not to talk to you like normal.”

“The appointment’s today,” you reassure him. “Should hopefully be back to normal by the time you wake up tomorrow.”

“Thank god,” he groans. “Never drop your phone in the washing machine again, dumbass. I have too many important things to say.”

“You’re always welcome to say them over email now, if you want,” you say, smirking, and Hwanwoong grumbles playfully while you laugh.

“Hey.”

Your roommate is in the doorway, looking freshly showered. “I’m leaving soon, I’m gonna need that back.”

You pout but nod. “I gotta go, ‘Woong, roomie needs the phone back.”

“Yeah, I should probably go to bed soon, anyway,” he says, then pauses. “I, um….”

You don’t prompt him, glad that he sounds as shy as you feel.

“…thanks. For not, you know, freaking out. Well, actually, you did freak out, but, like, not in the bad and annoying way.”

“Thanks a lot,” you groan, and he laughs again, the sound soft in a way that sits comfortably in your heart.

“I….I really do. Love you, that is. God, this is awkward.”

You’re grinning ear to ear. “Yeah, it is. It’ll get better with practice, I bet.”

You pause, then add, “I love you, too. Dumbass.”

“Gross,” your roommate says from the doorway, and apparently Hwanwoong can hear them, because he laughs at that, too, and the sound is so joyous. You miss him a lot, miss seeing how his eyes crinkle when he’s happy. You can’t wait for him to get home from abroad.

“I’ll text you when my phone gets fixed, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Tick tock.”

You smile.

“Love you,” he says again, and the way he says it makes warmth zip through you.

“Love you,” you breathe, meaning it, then hang up before you get too embarrassed.

Your roommate is smirking when you hand the phone back. “I’m glad my phone could help you two idiots finally figure it out.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, shoving their arm playfully before going to make coffee. A week and a half. How are you going to survive that long?