#where you have many parks to choose for your saturday morning walk

[yohankang]

i'm starting to like summer ngl

[libraryofloveletters]

I Spy With My Little Eye

Dominik Szoboszlai x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dom is so cheesy but he also disappeared and you're like ??, a bit plot heavy, so many random tasks, reader thinks dom has lost his mind, major sweetness at the end.

Word Count: 970

Author's Note: dedicated to my fellow dom enthusiast @curiousthyme <3

--

This Christmas was different. Dom made you work for your gift rather than giving it to you; following the clues through the neighbourhood to your final gift.

There was some time before Christmas and Dominik suggested a trip to Germany, the place you two called home for quite a bit of time while he played with Leipzig. You still had your place there as you bounced back and forth between there and Liverpool for work so you two were staying there for a few days.

You felt the mattress dip, your boyfriend's warm hand on your forehead. His lips by your ear, "I've got some errands to run, sweetheart. I'll be back later." he whispers, kissing your head.

A mumble and you feel around, patting his cheek before rolling over and going back to sleep.

It wasn't until an hour later than you got up, finding Dom's side of the bed still empty. There was a note on the pillow, you assumed it was just him reiterating what he had told you before he left, knowing you'd be too sleepy to really listen to him.

You unfolded the page, reading the words he had scribbled down.

check your favourite hiding spot for a gift - xoxo D.

The sun peeked through the curtains, you forced yourself out of bed to go into the living room. The ottoman sat on the rug, you smiled to yourself. Dom never used the ottoman, in fact he hated the thing; it was ugly and clunky but you liked it for some reason so he left it. Plus he knew you used it as a hiding spot because he often forgot it was there.

Pushing the top open, there's a box wrapped up with ribbon and a note tucked under it. The note was opened first.

get ready and head to Julie's for the next note - xoxo D.

You had no idea what he was up to but you folded the page again, taking the lid off of the box to find a dress you had been telling him about for weeks. You haven't been able to find it in stores or online. You're not sure how he did it but you're sure he used his 'connections' as he called it to find it for you.

As the note said, you went through your morning routine and got ready, your coat wrapped around you and boots on as you headed out and into the snow.

The bell rings on the cafe door, the smell of baked goods welcomes you back home. "Y/n!" Julie beamed, you weren't expecting to see her in, especially not on a Saturday morning.

"Hey!" You smiled.

"Here you go," she passed you your usual coffee order and an envelope. You reach for your purse to pay her but she shakes her head, "Dom paid."

You smile, opening the envelope and reading the note.

meet me where we had our first kiss - xoxo D.

It takes you a moment to think back, it feels like a million years ago but then it hits you, the park.

You thank Julie for the coffee and you're off again, making your way through the snow, cursing Dom in your head for choosing a snowy day to do whatever it was that this was. It's a short walk to the park, specifically to the park rangers' office; yes you had your first kiss outside of their office. You were on a walk and it started pouring rain, Dom pulled you there to keep you out of the rain and kissed you for the first time there.

It was more romantic in the morning, but thinking about it now made you giggle.

You looked around for your boyfriend, hoping this would be the last of the walking as your legs were killing you.

Someone pats your shoulder, a park ranger. "Are you y/n?"

"Yeah," you nod, the man hands you yet another envelope. You're a bit annoyed, knowing you'd probably have to walk some more but you open it.

follow the ranger. no more walking, I promise - xo D.

It's as if he read your mind. "Lead the way," you tell the man, he nods and leads you over to one of their little cars.

You knew this path, it led to the gazebo at the edge of the park that overlooked the water. You get out of the car, thanking the man as you walk over to the gazebo. There are candles and flowers everywhere. As you make your way closer, you're expecting to see Dom but you don't.

A bit confused, you look around but then feel someone tap your shoulder; Dominik is on one knee behind you when you turn around.

"Dom.." You look at the man, your jaw hangs open slightly.

"Y/n," he smiles, "the last 5 years have been the best of my life, as cheesy as it sounds. You've been through the good and the bad, stuck to my side no matter what and I can't thank you enough for that. I hope you know how much you mean to me and will always mean to me so," he smiled at you again, opening the small box in his hand.

"Will you do me the honour and marry me?"

You're in shock, nodding but then you remember you actually have to answer him. "Yes!" You lean down, hands on his face as you kiss him. Dom stands, still kissing you for a moment before he pulls away, slipping the ring onto your finger.

Your boyfriend- fiancé, pulls you back into a hug, kissing you as he picks you up, giving you a good squeeze.

"I know you've always wanted a Christmas proposal but not on Christmas." He laughs, forehead pressed to yours.

You smile, tears in your eyes as your hand presses to his face. "It was perfect, perhaps less walking would have been better but still," you giggled, Dom kissed you once more, hugging you.

[lou-struck]

The Perfect One

Shinsuke Kita x reader

~You visit Kita at his Farmers Market booth and realize that he has closed up early to run an important errand.

WC: 1.6k

The market hasn’t even been open for thirty minutes, but already the streets are packed full of cars; your eyes scan the packed street, searching for even the tightest parking spot.

Today you plan to surprise your boyfriend at his farmer’s market stand, give him some much-needed quality time, and take him out for a lunch date after he closes up shop, Which, according to your calculations, should be selling out in an hour or so…

Shinsuke Kita’s Rice stand is one of the most popular booths due to the high quality of his product and the fact that most vendors and patrons have fallen head over heels for the handsome rice farmer.

And how could they not?

Shinsuke’s honest charm and hardworking demeanor are enough to make anyone fall in love with him. But out of everyone, he chooses to be with you because he loves you just as much as you love him.

And this silly feeling called love is what compelled you to wake up early on a Saturday morning fueled with nothing but the promise of a large cup of coffee and some freshly baked scones with raspberry jelly once you find him.

Your car creeps through the street at a snail’s pace as you spot a light blue truck pulling out from a parking spot on the corner. As you approach, you notice that it looks like a tight fit, but you squeeze into it the best you can. Pulling forward, you hear the overly dramatic sound of your front bumper hitting the curb, but as you reverse slightly and put the car in the park, you shake it off, slipping out of the driver’s seat and onto the pavement. 

Rays of sun hit your skin through the layer of cloudy overcast as you walk, making the short trip to the center of the market rather pleasant as you pass people carrying baskets overflowing with fresh produce, baked goods, handcrafted soaps, and other goods.

Stands to sparkle with racks of handmade jewelry and blown glass trinkets that vie for your attention as you walk; if you haven’t been here before, you would’ve lost yourself amongst the crowd, but luckily, you know your way around fairly well by now.

As you get closer to your boyfriend’s usual spot, a few produce vendors you recognize from the weeks before. Despite the many customers at their stalls, they still give you a friendly wave as you walk; off in the distance, you see the edge of the hand-painted sign outside of Shinsuke’s booth, the sign the two of your painted together months ago. 

Memories of that wine-stained night bring a giddy smile to your chapstick lips as you quicken your pace, springing over a spilled cone of shaved ice that someone must’ve just dropped. 

You creep slowly around the corner, ready to scare. Instead of his soft smile and strong form, behind the register rests a generic sign.

Be back in 30 minutes…

That’s strange; even with his cashbox secured, Kita would never just leave his booth unattended for such a long time. You can’t help but wonder where he has gone.

Is he not feeling well?

Is he in the bathroom?

Whatever the answer may be, you choose to go sit at his stall to watch it until he gets back. You would hate for someone to try and steal things from him.

The next stand over, a friendly older woman peeks out from behind a massive pile of unshucked corn on the cob and gives you the warmest smile you have received all week. She is a longtime friend of Kita’s grandmother and almost always slips you one of her homemade apple tarts. Her floppy sun hat protects her lovingly aged skin from the harsh rays of the overcast sky. 

“Oh, hello, My Dear,” she calls in her soft voice. “What brings you to the market so early?” 

“Good morning,” you smile, watching fondly as her little leopard-printed cane carries her closer to you. I came to surprise Shinsuke, but it seems he went off somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Dear; he’ll be right back.” she laughs. There is a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she looks at you. “But I told that sweet boy I would watch his stall.”

“An errand?” you ask. “Is he feeling alright? It is so unlike him to just leave the stall”.

She just smiles knowingly. “He is just fine dear, but if you would like to check on him, head to the stalls near the main street while I hold down the fort.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” you smile. “I’ll head over there now.” With a final wave, you turn the corner and leave the stall in her capable hands.

It’s only a quick walk to the main street, but the cluster of booths is different from the usual produce stalls you are familiar with. It only takes a little sniff of the fresh air to figure out that Main Street is where all the flower vendors set up shop to sell their wonderfully constructed bouquets of flowers. Sunflowers, lilts, Peonies, and Daisies galore in every color you can think of rest in large buckets of water reaching upwards toward the light.

You wander past each stall, enchanted by the sweet smells and vibrant petals, until you hear a familiar voice speaking to one of the vendors.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me out with this. All of these are breathtaking, but I want to find the right one.” Your boyfriend says, aching down and smelling a large pink Lilly.

“Is there a particular combination you are looking for?” the vendor says, a light pink blush on their cheeks, no doubt having fallen victim to his natural charm.

“Not a combination in general; I just want a Bouquet that looks like them.” he hums, placing his hand under his chin in thought.

The vendor turns their head to the side. “How so?”

“The peonies with the iris are so fun and vibrant, just like Y/n, but then the Tulips with eucalyptus, baby’s breath, and Callalilles look so elegant and beautiful it makes me wonder if they could see themselves in those as well.”

“Young man, if everyone put as much thought into a bouquet of flowers as you did, the would be a much better place,” they say honestly. “I am sure whatever one you choose, your partner will love, especially with you being such a romantic.”

“I don’t know if I would consider myself a romantic; I just want y/n to have a nice bouquet of flowers today,” he says simply. Even though he has his back to you, you see the way the back of his neck flushes at the vendor’s words. 

Is he really putting all this thought into a bouquet for you? 

A part of you feels guilty for eavesdropping on him, but really, your heart is fluttering out of control at such a romantic gesture. You turn your back and dart quickly behind a tent that shields you from his view. 

Just as you think you are in the clear, you hear a pleasant voice call out from behind out. “It looks like you caught me.” Your breath hitches; Kita has always been too good at picking up those little details, especially when it comes to you.

“I-i’m sorry,’ you stammer, turning around to face him, “I just wanted to surprise you, and I ended up ruining yours.”

His coffee-colored gaze softens as he takes in every inch of your flustered features as if they were a work of art. “You didn’t ruin anything, quite the opposite, actually.”

You blink as you take in his words; how exactly is you ruining his floral surprise a good thing?

“How so?”

He chuckles to himself, “Because now we can pick out the flowers together.” He says it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your knees feel weak as he continues, “I want to know what you like so that I can surprise you in the future. You deserve a life full of happy surprises.”

Boom, there goes your heart, and blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that your hands fly to cover your face from the world.

“Flustered, are we?” he laughs softly, removing your hands from your face and tilting up your chin with the utmost care. 

Playfully you stick your tongue out at him with an endearing boldness, “Sometimes I think you’re too good at this. Is there someone else you practice on?”

He rolls his eyes as a characteristic snort escapes his lips. “Only you, My Love. Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Absolutely,” you tease, letting your gaze fall from his sparkling eyes and onto his soft lips. They curve upward knowingly before they meet yours in a tender kiss. He holds you gently as if you are one of the many flowers in the surrounding booths. 

You’re breathless, but you want more; Kita’s touch, combined with the sweet floral fragrance, is dizzying and makes you forget about the hundreds of people passing by on the other side of the tented wall. 

He pulls away with a tenderness that makes you feel like you are falling in love over and over again. The sweetest look in his eyes as he guides you back towards the flower stalls and the rows and rows of bouquets, so that the two of you can pick out the perfect one together.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[mia-seth-adventures]

True story: Childhood

I grew up in Peckham, London. I walked to school and back with friends of all colours. Our teatime was at 5pm. When I was a child there was no area code or dress code and most of my clothes came from C&A or the cheap clothes stores.

Eating out at a restaurant never happened (apart from the Pie & Mash shop). It just wasn’t a thing. Fast food was Fish & Chips, and having a glass of pop (R White's or Corona) was a real treat.

You took your school clothes off as soon as you got home and put on your play clothes. We had to do our homework before being allowed outside to play. We ate dinner at the table. There was no taking or picking you up in the car, you walked or rode your bike rain, snow or sunshine.

Our rotary dial phone sat on our ‘phone table’ in the main hallway with a lock on number 1 and had a cord attached, so there was no such thing as private conversations. Mobile phones didn’t exist - it was a big red telephone box. Only Dad had a camera (a 2nd hand Brownie with black & white film).

TVs didn’t have remotes, we had to actually get up to change the channel - and there were only a few to choose from - Two actually. There was no such thing as Internet!

We played Cops and Robbers, It, Red Light-Green Light, Sticky Toffee, Hide & Seek, Tag, 40/40 British bulldog knock door run and rode bikes with cards in the spokes or a plastic 10p pop carton jammed between the tyre and the brakes and they often had tassels hanging from the handlebars.

Girls could spend hours playing dolls, house and dress up. We were lucky, as the Boys played football, rugby and wrestling in the park right opposite where we lived.

Staying in the house was a punishment and the only thing we knew about ‘bored’ was: "You better find something to do before I find it for you!"

We ate what Mum made for dinner or we ate nothing at all and, if we didn’t eat our vegetables we had them waiting cold for us the next day! Everyone was welcome and no one left our house hungry.

We had no microwave. There was no bottled water - we drank from the tap or the garden hose outside.

We watched cartoons on Saturday mornings, and rode our bikes for hours, ran around and went on our roller skates that attached to our shoes. We weren't afraid of anything. We played till dark... sunset was our time to go home or when the street lights came on.

If someone had a fight, that's what it was and we were friends again a week later, if not sooner.

We watched our mouths around our elders because all of our aunts, uncles, grandpas, grandmas, and our parents' best friends were all extensions of our parents and you didn't want them telling your parents if you misbehaved or, they would give you something to cry about - the belt or the slipper.

These were the good old days. So many children today will never know how it feels to be a real child.

I loved my childhood - Good Times

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Oooooh!!!! How about group 4 and the "I have food in my bag" prompt!!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

YESSS anything for you Paige 💗💗💗 Someone else asked for the same prompt with Kanzaki + Kayano, so I just combined it with this one. Hope you enjoy! <3

Group 4 + “I have food in my bag”

…

"Shit, we're running late!" Sugino swore under his breath, adjusting his grip on his bag and quickening his pace.

It was already 8:17 and they were still ten minutes away from the base of the mountain. On top of that, there was still the long trek to get up to the classroom.

"Slow down, Sugino," Kayano whined from far behind. She dragged her schoolbag onto the sidewalk tiredly. "Some of us don't have long ass legs like you!"

"Do you have to drag your bag like that?" Nagisa questioned, wincing at the scraping sound it was making. "Isn't your laptop in there?"

"Actually, I forgot it at home today."

Sugino threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "Well, aren't we all having a great, productive day so far?"

Somehow, by a universal phenomenon that had to be the opposite of a miracle, the three of them had woken up late. And experienced various degrees of a chaotic morning that stalled their time to get to class.

Sugino had to run two blocks to pick up his mother's dry-cleaning, before getting stopped by the local kids at the park who wanted some baseball tips. It was Saturday, so not many elementary-grade kids had to go to school.

Nagisa had an emergency, no-prior-notice tutoring session with an anxious Sakura.

And Kayano's agent had come randomly earlier, imploring her to pause her break and take a once-in-a-lifetime role offer. She declined, of course. Then she went on to binge three episodes of her current k-drama, which was recommended by Ritsu. Eventually, she realized what time it was and survival instinct kicked in.

Long story short, all three had run into each other at the same time, rushing down the street to get to school.

"It's not like this happens everyday, though," Nagisa tried to comfort him. "I'm sure Korosensei will understand."

"Yeah...true."

They reached a busy intersection and were forced to stop as the light was green. The hectic morning traffic rushed in front of them, and the familiar hum of cars flying by eased Sugino's tension a little.

He wasn't really sure why he felt so stressed. Nagisa was right. Korosensei was more than likely to understand and not mark them tardy, as this was a pretty rare occurrence. Besides, a certain redhead he knew was more often absent than not.

Speaking of him... Sugino's brows furrowed when he spotted a flash of familiar red across the street, near some bushes.

Standing beside him, Kayano squinted. "Is that who I think it is?"

"If it is him, I'm not surprised he's late too," Nagisa commented dryly, taking a swig of his water bottle.

"It's probably not him," Sugino decided, impatiently willing the light to turn red already. The sun was fully risen by now and beating over his head. He felt sweat droplets start to fall down his neck and his ire increased.

It was odd to say, but Sugino actually strongly valued routine. It didn't suit his lax, easygoing and fun appearance, but a rigid routine was built into him ever since he started playing baseball. He liked some sense of predictability in his daily life.

So today, where everything was going wrong somehow, was creating a heaviness in his chest.

Finally, the crosswalk sign flashed to indicate they could start walking. Sugino basically ran across the street in relief, choosing to ignore Kayano's insults targeted towards his longer legs.

“Hey, jerk! Wait for us!”

He laughed in response and bolted down the sidewalk, acting out of pure adrenaline and annoyance. He glanced back over his shoulder to see the other two walking normally after him.

Thud!

Suddenly, ran into something and fell onto the pavement. It wasn't hard per say, but it was definitely a body.

"Oof!" The person exclaimed, more in surprise than pain.

Sugino felt his face flush, already prepared to apologize. He already began spouting off before looking up.

"Sorry about that-wait, Kanzaki?" He did a double take, surprised to see one of his closest friends right across him.

She was down on the sidewalk, as well. Her bag fell near her, but nothing spilled out. Her raven locks were tied up into a makeshift bun and the look on her face was one of both surprise and annoyance.

"Good morning to you, too, Sugino-kun," She replied dryly, standing up and dusting off her skirt. She reached a hand out to him, which he took.

"Hehe, my bad," he laughed sheepishly. "So you're late today too?" His brain scrambled to find a reason for why Kanzaki of all people was late.

She gestured to behind her. "And those two."

Karma and Okuda were crouched by the bushes, both enraptured by a book in his hands.

His other two companions finally caught up. "Ahhh, Kanzaki-san!" Kayano squealed, tackling the other girl in a hug.

"Morning, Kayano-san," Kanzaki greeted warmly, grabbing Sugino's arm for support before she fell for a second time. Her other hand gently patted Kayano's head.

Okuda scrambled up at the noise, adjusting her skirt and glasses. "Ah, good morning guys!"

"OKUDA-SAN!" Kayano did the exact same and collided with her in a frightening hug.

"Wow, so the gang's all here," Karma laughed, throwing his arms around Sugino and Nagisa.

"What the hell are you guys doing out here?" Sugino asked, a smile on his face.

Even if his routine was gone and they were most definitely late for class, he couldn't really be mad surrounded by his best friends.

"We could ask you the same," Kanzaki retorted, amused. Sugino noticed her nails were painted a bright shade of purple, likely in part to annoy her parents.

"We' all woke up late," Nagisa deadpanned, deciding to simplify it. "What about you guys?"

"Had a fun idea." Karma pulled out the book he'd been holding and handed it to Nagisa. Sugino peered over his shoulder.

It was an encyclopedia for marine animals, specifically invertebrates. Sea stars, jellies, squids, clams, crabs, etc. Nagisa flipped over to the bookmarked page, which was filled with types of sea urchins. There was one name that was highlighted.

"Toxopneustes elegans," he read aloud. "Native to Japan, and highly venomous."

Sugino looked up at them with raised eyebrows. "What are you guys planning...?" He asked reluctantly.

Karma and Kanzaki both hummed and looked away innocently. Okuda fidgeted with her hands, not in a nervous way but in a "how do I explain this without looking fucking crazy" way.

"Well, I got this book as a gift yesterday. And last night I texted Karma-kun and Kanzaki-san about the interesting species of sea urchins I didn't even knew exist!"

She tugged on one of her braids, her tone shifting to a more guilty one. "And then they had the idea of extracting its poison to use on enemies and bullies."

"KARMA WHAT THE HELL!"

"Kanzaki?! You too?"

Karma scowled at their reactions. "Obviously, we'd dilute it and mix a small portion into something, so it wouldn't be that bad."

"STILL!"

Kanzaki looked away. "Some of the bullies at the arcade deserve it!"

"Oh my god." Nagisa facepalmed.

"First of all, that's insane," Sugino cried. "Second of all, where do you even get this urchin?"

Okuda let out a breath. "That's why we're late today. We were gonna go to this street market to get it. It's not as busy in the mornings..."

"Okuda, you endorse this?!"

She threw her hands up. "If it's in the name of science, I can't disagree!" She cried.

"This is about ethics!"

"Kayano, why aren't you saying anything?" Nagisa demanded.

She shrugged, leaning her head against Karma's arm. "Eh, it's not the worst fate someone can have. And maybe some people do deserve something like that..."

"Oh, so you're crazy too."

She sighed deeply and dramatically, hugging her stomach. "I'm crazy, and I'm starving. You can't ask for my opinions on morality when I'm running on low fuel!"

"And this..." Kanzaki swung her bag off her shoulder and reached inside. "Is why I always have food in my bag."

She pulled out a rolled up paper bag, crumpled from being stuffed inside and handed it to Kayano. The actress opened it up, her face lighting up at the sight of fresh gourmet pastries.

"Kanzaki, you're an angel," Kayano wept, digging into a croissant.

"It's for everyone, so make sure you share." The bag was passed around and everyone was eventually sitting on the sidewalk, enjoying them.

"Aww, thanks Kanzaki-san."

"Man, what would we do without you?"

The flaky dough instantly melted in Sugino's mouth. The combination of that and the buttery flavor almost sent him to heaven right there.

"Don't think this means you can still poison people with sea urchins though," he quickly added.

Kanzaki pouted while Karma huffed a sigh. "Fine," they conceded simultaneously.

Kayano was laying on the ground, her head resting on a bunched up sweater as she devoured her second cinnamon roll. She reached a hand over to them. "It's okay, I supported your plan."

Karma took it, amused. "Thanks, Kayano-chan. You really get me."

"Kanzaki, are these from that new fancy French place?" Nagisa asked, chewing on his cheese Danish. "The one that just opened up?"

"Yup." She was already done with her own, and was playing with the small flower buds that grew on the bush.

"Wow, we're so lucky to have a kind, generous rich friend like you," Sugino joked. "We get the high quality snacks."

"Hello? I'm here too," Karma spoke up.

Sugino smirked. "I said, a kind and generous rich friend."

"You know what, screw yo-"

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

The Stars Were Bright Above | Peter Parker

✦ pairing — Peter Parker x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 12k

✦ fake dating AU

✦ summary — in an attempt to make your best friend Harry jealous, you accept to fake date Peter who needs to cover up his big secret.

✦ request — I just read your Harry series and I was wondering if you could do something similar where reader is in love with Harry and she fake dates Peter and falls for him?

✦ warnings — angst, family issues, mentions of food and alcohol, language, reader and Peter are in college, brief depictions of anxiety, sexually suggestive content, drama between friends, fluff.

✦ author's note — whew, this one was supposed to be a quick one shot that’d help me get back into writing after days with a horrible migraine and then I completely lost control of it. I managed to find a compromise in 12k words after an excruciating editing process. Hope it’s coherent and that you like it!

════════════════════════

“I would love to stop and chat,” you told Peter as you looked for your keys, “but I’m in a hurry.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

If only you could find the stupid keys first! Oh, well, you’d check your backpack once you were in the parking lot.

Peter could have used the time it took you to cross campus to tell you whatever it was he wanted to say. Instead, he fiddled with the straps of his backpack and walked beside you in complete silence.

“I need a favor,” he finally said when you stopped in front of your car. As though it hadn’t been obvious.

“Peter,” you sighed, trying to hold your open backpack against your knee. A horrible idea, really. “My mom will kill me if I’m late for lunch.”

He took your backpack in his hands and held it for you. “I... it’s embarrassing.”

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“It can’t wait!”

His tone made you lift your head. “Are you alright? Is your aunt sick or something?”

He shook his head. “It’s about May in a way... oh, that rhymed.”

“Focus.”

“Right, right. Uhmmm she thought I was hiding something from her—“

You interrupted, “Were you?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. “So I told her I have a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know you were dating anybody.”

“I’m not.”

“So why did you—“ You groaned. “Oh my God, you’re an idiot.”

“I deserve that one.”

“You want me to convince Gwen?”

“Gwen? Why would—“ He shook his head. Avoiding your eyes, he said, “I told her it was you.”

“And she believed you?”

“I’m as shocked as you are!”

“So you want me to lie to your aunt and tell her I’m dating you.” You closed your backpack, having had no luck finding your keys.

“More or less.” Peter continued holding your backpack, patiently waiting for you to retrieve it. “I was thinking more along the lines of lying to everybody and tell them we’re dating.”

You brought a hand to your hair, lightly gripping it for a moment. “I’m not a good actress.”

“I think your keys are in your hoodie.”

You palmed the front pocket where the sound of metal against metal let you know he was right. Introducing your hand, you withdrew the keys. “How did you know?”

“I heard them.”

“You have amazing hearing.” You reached over to take your backpack.

He handed it to you. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

You unlocked the car and opened the back door on the driver’s side. Leaving your backpack onto the backseat, you heard Peter ask, “So... are you helping me?”

Standing straight, you turned to peer at him. You had to squint as the sun hit your face. “Can we talk later or tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Text me. Please.”

Peter had always been considerate with you and this time was no different. He patted your back before walking away on the opposite direction.

You bit your bottom lip. “Hey.”

Peter turned around. “Mmh?”

“Want me to drop you off?”

“Sure.”

It was nice to have some company in the car after a pretty lonely day. Gwen was nowhere to be seen and you didn’t share classes with Mary Jane. You had other friends, but they didn’t make you feel complete like Gwen, Mary Jane, Flash, Peter, and Harry did.

Harry...

You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “Did you tell Harry?”

He didn’t sound surprised. “I was waiting for your answer. I told May she was the first person to know.”

You hummed. “What would I have to do?”

“She’ll want to confirm it’s true so you’d have dinner with us and then we would act like a couple in front of everybody.”

“Like a couple?”

“Just holding hands and hugging,” he clarified. “Maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek to throw people off their rhythm. Oh, and pet names!”

“You’ve got everything planned, huh.”

“My life depends on this,” he said dramatically.

“Do I get to know your secret if I say yes?”

He considered your question for a moment. “Eventually.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. “When should I come over for dinner?”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Probably this weekend. I’ll ask May and text you.”

“Cool. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

You pulled over a few blocks from your family home to put on some makeup, that way you would avoid the chastising that came every time your mom saw the bags under your eyes.

Wondering if Peter could tell the reason behind your helpfulness, you got rid of your hoodie and slipped a sweater on.

Doing this every time you visited after school was tiring, but it was better than putting up with meaningless fights.

Your mom was losing her patience when you arrived, you could see it on her face. She glared at you as you approached her to kiss her cheek. This and the fact that you couldn’t stand pretending so many aspects of your personality, were what lead you to choose to live on your own.

She hadn’t been too happy about it, but she was busy with the family business, her social life, and your sister to complain. Your dad always did what any of you wanted, mostly to make you three shut up.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Peter needed help with something.”

You sat down next to your sister who lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” your mom suspiciously pointed out.

Oh, so she was keeping tabs on what you did on your free time...

The truth was there had never been anything between you and Peter.

You met him on his first day of college. He was the new kid everybody was intrigued by. Harry hated him at first and although you didn’t, you didn’t speak to him until Harry decided to stop being an asshole.

Now Harry was too busy with Liz, his gorgeous girlfriend, to care about you, his best friend.

It hurt, it really did. You befriended Harry when you were kids and had been inseparable up until now. Of course you had to put up with his weird flings, but he had never cast you aside for them.

You had harbored hope that he was secretly into you, but the less he spoke to you the more you realized he hadn’t found the one until he met Liz. That hurt even more — you were supposed to be the one.

Everything had played out in your mind from the moment you realized you had a crush on him. You would start dating in high school or college, get married, have kids, be a happy family...

But ever since he left you by yourself at a party when he was supposed to be your ride, you realized he hadn’t cared as much as you did.

Peter walked you to your apartment that night and made sure you drank plenty of water. He didn’t have to do it, Gwen and Mary Jane had already offered to do it themselves, but for some reason he felt like it.

You took a sip of water, realizing your mom and your sister were waiting for an answer. “He’s nice,” you opted for saying.

“Nice, eh,” you sister teased you.

“Yeah, nice. Is there a problem with that?”

You knew that attitude would only make them believe they were right in their assumptions. It was what Peter needed from you either way.

Truthfully, Peter wasn’t always nice, but you knew he tried.

“Are we waiting for dad?” you asked.

Your mom nodded. “He’ll be home any moment now.”

Your mom never complained when your dad was late, or when he was too busy to come home for lunch. You were used to it, she was biased in his favor — she had been since you were a child.

You checked your phone to keep yourself entertained. The Notification Center showed multiple badges, but the messages one caught your eye immediately.

Gwen💛: Missed you today.

You unlocked your phone to reply that you had missed her too when another text came in.

Pete: May said it would be cool if the three of us had dinner on Saturday.

You answered Peter first.

Sounds good to me. Just tell me what should I bring.

Your presence is more than enough, you’re our guest.

You huffed a laugh as you typed. Look at you trying to be cute.

I’ll have you know I’m extremely cute all the time.

Yeah, yeah. Should I bring dessert?

You don’t have to bring anything if you don’t want to.

I will strangle you the moment I see you, Peter.

Just say yes or no.

Maybe.

I hate you.

That’s not the proper way to treat your boyfriend :(

You could picture the glint in his eyes as he tried not to laugh.

You went along with it. I’m sorry, babe :(

I forgive you because I’m a nice boyfriend.

Won’t happen again. <3

Now let’s hope we can talk like that in person.

Are you daring me to sweet talk you in person?

Yes.

Your mom called your name. “Your dad asked you a question.”

You lifted your head. “Mmh?”

“No, no, continue texting,” he said sarcastically, “I have all day.”

You quickly typed TTYL and locked your phone. “Sorry.”

Your dad shook his head. “You and Harry always do this.”

“I wasn’t texting Harry,” you felt the need to explain. Harry didn’t deserve credit for this. “What did you want to ask?”

“I asked,” he remarked the word. “If you would be busy this weekend. Your sister won’t be.”

“I— uhmmm... I’m having dinner with Peter and his aunt on Saturday.” You saw your sister purse her lips beside you. “Did you need anything?”

“To spend time with my family.”

“I guess I can come over on Sunday or Saturday morning.”

“I was thinking about going out of town for the weekend,” he clarified.

“The three of you can go if you don’t want to wait another week,” you assured them. “I already told Peter I would have dinner with him and his aunt so I can’t cancel. I also have projects to do.”

════════════════════════

You rested your head on Gwen’s shoulder as both of you waited for Mary Jane in the cafeteria. They never made you feel like a third wheel even though they were dating so you never avoided spending time with them.

Mary Jane arrived accompanied by Peter. He looked extremely serious but he didn’t say anything as he stood across the table, staring at you like a child scared of saying what they had been up to. She elbowed him on the side before sitting down.

Peter got closer to you. “Can we talk?” he asked. “It’s important.”

You nodded, lifting your head off Gwen’s shoulder. As you stood up, you felt her hand squeeze yours which prompted you to turn and look at her.

She gave you a playful look that made you realize she wanted to know every detail once you were done. As your eyes crossed Mary Jane’s, you saw a similar sentiment in them.

“I’ll be right back,” you told them to pacify them.

He guided you to an empty area which wasn’t such an easy task. You ended up resting your shoulder against the wall, facing Peter while he looked around.

His eyes landed on you as he spoke in a hushed voice. “Can we start today?”

You mirrored his tone. “Fake dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Well, you’re changing the plan,” you explained. You hated changing plans, even more so when you weren’t sure you were the right person to execute them.

“I know. Just a day earlier, though.” He unashamedly pouted.

“Okay,” you said, this time sure. “Any particular reason?”

“There’s this freshman who thinks I flirt with her just because I’m nice to her and she’s creeping me out. I feel like she follows me around.”

You sighed. “She just has a crush on you, don’t be a baby.”

“Please?”

“I already said yes, you baby.”

“You kinda like calling me baby, don’t you?”

You playfully shoved him “You’re so annoying.” However, before he could leave to do whatever it was he did in his free periods, you grabbed him by the wrist. “Does Mary Jane know about your plan?”

“No. Why?”

“You arrived together.”

“Ah. No.” He shook his head. “I was looking for you and asked her if she had seen you.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah...”

You shifted on your feet. “So what now?”

“Do you have class next period?”

“Sadly.”

He chuckled. “I’ll walk you to class.”

“Wanna hang out with us for a little bit?”

“I gotta talk to Flash.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Gonna ask him out too?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m never telling you who I find attractive ever again.”

“Good. Don’t wanna make your girlfriend jealous — do you, babe?”

Peter leaned over. His breath fanned on your face as he said, “Don’t worry, baby, I only have eyes for you.” He then kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me with Gwen and Mary Jane.”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t look as stunted as you felt.

Both your friends stared at you, desperate to hear an explanation. You understood why, but you were still trying to come up with an excuse as to why you were so flustered over a kiss on the cheek.

You checked your phone, but there was nothing worthy of your attention.

Mary Jane spoke first, “What did Peter need?”

“We are a thing now.”

Gwen hummed. “But what did he need?”

“Permission to make it public.”

Mary Jane scratched her cheek. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“You think he’d be a bad boyfriend?”

“I think you shouldn’t use him to make Harry notice you.”

That was harsh. Perhaps you deserved the reminder that Harry couldn’t care less about you, and perhaps you also deserved to feel bad for trying to use Peter against him — you would’ve preferred if the reminder didn’t come from your best friend.

“I’m not,” you partially lied. “I genuinely like Peter.”

True to his word, Peter walked you to class. You didn’t hold hands, it didn’t feel right, but he sweetly told you that he’d be waiting for you after your last class.

You saw Harry across the hallway, talking to Liz and one of her friends. For a second you thought he would walk towards you, the way he held your gaze had been almost cruel.

But he didn’t, he just gave you a nod and walked in the opposite direction, hand in hand with Liz.

You had better things to worry about. Your classes, your family’s expectations, helping Peter — reciprocal things to an extent. So why couldn’t you just get over the fact that Harry didn’t care about you?

Somebody poked you on the arm with their finger. Turning to the side, you found Flash who shot you a smile.

“What’s up?” you greeted him.

“We have a project to finish.”

You cursed under your breath. “Are you free on Sunday?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah. I’ll drop by your place.”

“At what time?”

“Like 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Don’t wanna wake you up by mistake again.”

Peter laughed behind you, having caught that last part.

You ignored Peter. “I have something to do after 5. Why don’t you come over early? I promise I’ll be awake.”

Flash shared a look with Peter and then patted your shoulder. “Cool. See you tomorrow, sleeping beauty.”

Peter snickered, standing beside you now.

“Stop laughing.”

“I just can’t believe you’re that grumpy in the mornings.” He started walking towards the exit.

You walked beside him. “You don’t know the whole story.”

He opened the door for you and then followed your steps. “You can tell it tomorrow at dinner.”

Craning your neck go look at him, you asked, “You want your aunt to laugh at me?”

“I’ll defend you.”

You suddenly remembered that you didn’t know what you were supposed to do or say in front of his aunt. You had met her before, but that fact made this situation even more bizarre.

You tried to start with an easy question, “Should I wear a dress for tomorrow?”

“You can wear whatever you want,” he assured you.

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

════════════════════════

You checked the time on your phone and realized you had a message from Flash. He was on his way.

Looking around your bedroom, your eyes fell on the bed where a pile of clothes laid. The sight stressed you out, and even more the fact that you didn’t seem to be able to set your mind on an outfit.

You anxiously waited for Flash at the door, pulling it open the moment you were aware of his presence on the other side.

He lifted both eyebrows. You usually took your sweet time to answer the door.

“We sh—“

You interrupted him. “I need your help with something else first.”

Flash softly dropped the materials he had been carrying onto the couch as he gave you a skeptic look. “I’m not disposing of a body for you.”

You took him by the wrist, dragging him to your bedroom. It wasn’t an abnormal occurrence by any means, he honestly should have had expected it.

“God, not again.” He sighed as his eyes fell on the pairs of shoes scattered around the room.

“Come on, just tell me if I should wear that skirt.” You pointed at the black skirt on top of the mountain of clothing. “Or jeans.”

He opened his arms, unsure as to what to tell you as his hands stayed in an awkward angle.

“What would you want me to wear if I were meeting your family?” you encouraged him to help you.

He cocked his head, looking at you through his lashes. “A straight jacket.”

“Please take this seriously.”

Inhaling deeply, he set his eyes on the pile of clothes. “Is the skirt more comfortable than the jeans?”

“I’m not thinking about comfort.”

“Well, you should. You know May will make you squirm with her questions.”

“No skirt, then.”

“It’s just dinner,” Flash reminded you, “wear something casual.”

”Yeah,” you sighed, “just dinner.”

What an easy thing to say. You knew so few details that you might as well make a fool of yourself in front of May.

Flash ignored your semblance even though you knew he took note of it. He reached his hand into one of the bags he had been carrying then handed you a paper bag. “I brought breakfast.”

“Why didn’t you say so when you arrived?”

He glared at you. “Why don’t you get us something to drink instead?”

You ate breakfast sat on the living room floor while discussing your project. Flash wasn’t the most responsible person ever, but he was by far the best partner you ever had for a project.

However, his comment from earlier made you wonder something. Unable to hold it anymore, you asked, “How did you even know about the dinner?”

“Peter told me,” he answered simply.

“He did?”

“Why are you so shocked?”

You shrugged. “I thought we would wait a little bit longer.”

“Yeah, but it was bound to happen.”

“Don’t,” you warned him.

“Why not? I told you you’d end up having a crush on him.”

“Flaaaaaaaash!”

You hated to prove him right and although this was different, you wouldn’t lie and say Peter wasn’t attractive or crush material.

“Peter’s cool.”

“You don’t have to convince me, I’m already dating him.”

“I’m just pointing out that he’s an upgrade.”

There it was.

Flash took a dislike towards Harry when Harry started dating Liz which was normal because she was his ex, but it turned into vitriol really quickly.

Both Flash and Harry put Peter in an awkward situation the first few months. Now you didn’t know much about it — Harry complained about it with you at first, but he stopped.

“It’s different.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

You frowned, looking into your half-empty cup of coffee.

“I can see through you.”

“Mary Jane told you her theory, didn’t she?”

“She thinks the same?” You nodded. He pensively hummed. “She didn’t tell me, to be honest. I’m only trying to look out for you and Peter.”

“I like him, I don’t know why you think I don’t.”

Flash didn’t spare you as he reminded you, “Because you said the same about your ex.”

“Yeah and look how that went!”

“(Name).”

“What?”

“Stop comparing guys you like to Harry and I promise you things will go well.”

He really could see right through you.

“I’ll stop. I promise.” Not knowing why, you added, “It’s not even that hard, Peter is... Peter. You know what I mean? Like how can you compare him to other people or other people to him?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Oh no. “Do you like him?” you blurted.

Flash laughed softly. “Not in that way, no.”

“You sure? I don’t want things to be weird.”

“Peter might be handsome and cool,” he admitted, “but we wouldn’t work as a couple.”

“You think Peter and I would?” you incredulously asked.

“You will, yeah.”

You were truly nervous now. Not because of May’s potential questions or because you would have to lie — actually, you didn’t know where the nerves were coming from.

You just knew that Flash’s words resonated with you. He went from hating Peter to being his close friend which in your eyes meant he knew Peter better than anyone.

Did Flash know what Peter was hiding? Perhaps that was what he was alluding to when he assured you Peter and you would work as a couple.

The day went by extremely quickly. You weren’t mentally ready when Flash left or when you were on your way to Peter’s for that matter.

Peter was waiting for you in the lobby with hands in his pockets and shifty eyes.

“Is she like mad or something?” you asked instead of greeting him. You were ten minutes early so tardiness couldn’t be the issue.

He made a face, jerking his head as he gazed at you. He looked confused. “She’s just worried.”

What if she got angry at you when you hadn’t done anything? Peter told you to act normal, but normal you wasn’t madly in love with him.

As you approached the apartment, you found yourself thinking you were either going to ruin this or find out you deserved an academy award.

Peter opened the door and allowed you to come in first. May smiled at you before giving you a side hug in greeting.

“I brought dessert,” you told her as you parted from her.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to.”

Okay. Not angry yet.

She placed the dessert onto the table and motioned for you and Peter to sit.

Peter and you grabbed the chair at the same time. He opened his eyes wide, making you withdraw your hands immediately. He took the chair out for you.

Peter could be polite when he wanted, but you were getting worried. Since when did he treat the people he dated like this?

Nonetheless, you sat down.

May didn’t waste time and touched the subject pretty quickly. The moment she served dinner, she said, “I thought Peter was messing with me at first.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he defended himself.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” she said sardonically.

“I thought he was messing with me when he asked me out, so I get it.”

Peter looked at you in shock and you unconsciously smiled at him.

May cooed. “I don’t understand why you two hid your relationship for months when you’re so cute together.”

“I didn’t want it to be awkward with our friends,” you quickly lied. “What if it didn’t work out or something?”

Your answer would have made sense if your relationship with Peter was real and that would be your strategy from now on. He couldn’t have a secret that would need you to lie that often.

May was so happy with your answers that the conversation deviated from you and Peter to everything but your love life.

You felt a little silly now, having expected the worst when Peter had already told you she was just worried.

He walked you to your car at the end of the night, something you guessed would become a common occurrence.

Things had gone well with May so you had no reason to think things wouldn’t go well with your friends.

You gnawed on the inside of your bottom lip. “Are things going to be awkward now?”

“Between us?”

You nodded. “I mean... saying shit is one thing, but you know...” God, you felt awkward already.

Peter frowned for a moment. “Give me your hand.”

Shifting on your feet, you asked, “You want your hand to be under mine or on top?”

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

You slid your arm under his, opening your palm but not touching him yet. He took the initiative and pressed his hand against yours.

“Is this okay?” he softly asked.

“Yes.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing a little bit. You huffed a laugh.

“This too?”

You nodded.

“Well, that’s the only thing that’ll change between us. We already hug pretty often.”

Oh, Peter gave the best hugs. Although Gwen was a close second, you preferred his because he was always warm. He also smelled good, but you had to give it to Gwen and admit she did too.

“I’ll see you on Monday, then, boyfriend.”

“Drive safe, girlfriend.” Before you could say anything, he added, “Text me when you get home.” Yet he didn’t let go of your hand immediately.

════════════════════════

Harry didn’t take the news of your relationship with Peter that well. The moment he saw you holding hands, he made his way towards you.

Peter squeezed your hand, easing your nerves. He was there, nothing could go wrong with Peter there.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Harry drily asked you.

“In twenty minutes or so,” you softly answered.

“Well, can I talk to you?”

You turned to Peter, hoping he’d save you from an awkward conversation. Sure, you wanted a reaction from Harry, but not an angry one!

“It’s okay, baby.” Peter kissed your hair as he let go of your hand. “I’ll see you later.”

With a shaky sigh, you motioned Harry to lead the way.

He immediately asked, “Why Peter?”

You stuttered. “I... things just happened.”

“Did they have to happen with my other best friend?”

In a twisted way, they had to. But you couldn’t possibly tell him that. “You didn’t care when Gwen had a crush on him, why is this any different?”

His eyes sharpened. “It just is.”

Many things just were. That didn’t mean anything. You wished you had the courage to reply.

As always, you gave him the upper hand and allowed him to make another question. “It’s not serious, right?”

What were you supposed to say? The thing that’d make him angry or the thing that’d pacify him? How selfish of you to be thinking about making Harry jealous when Peter needed this to be believable.

“It’s too soon to know.”

Harry hummed, softly nodding. “I’ll walk you to your class.”

You frowned. He had never done something like that.

“You’re coming to my birthday party, right?”

You almost tripped as you answered, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Cool. I’ll see you there.”

Thirteen-year-old you was right when she thought boys were confusing, but Harry surely took the cake. You assumed he’d ask you to hang out more often given his reaction, but there he was telling you —on a Monday— that he’d see you on Saturday.

Harry’s attitude soured your entire morning. If classes were already unbearable, he made you want to skip each one of them. Your friends noticed, but nobody said anything.

What a horrible morning and what a horrible week it would be until his stupid birthday party rolled around and you’d have to see him show his girlfriend off.

Your friends decided to go to the coffee shop near campus after class and although you weren’t in the mood for socializing, you would rather suck it up than be by yourself.

Besides, coffee shops were always a good place to do homework and you had quite a few projects accumulated.

Peter rested his head on your shoulder in the same way you always rested yours on Gwen’s. You threw your arm around his shoulders as you rested your eyes.

“Are you getting sleepy?” you whispered in case he was.

“No,” he mumbled. “But I don’t wanna move.”

“I have to pick up my sister from the mall in a couple of hours so you’ll have to.”

He whined.

“Who would’ve thought Peter would be a clingy boyfriend,” Gwen teased.

“Literally anybody who has ever seen him drunk,” Flash continued teasing him.

Peter was red. He shifted, trying to hide his face on your shoulder.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind if he was clingy or not. You had been told you were a little too effusive when it came to affection so you had a soft spot for people who were similar in any way.

You withdrew your arm from his shoulders in order to continue typing on your computer.

Peter went back to his previous position, facing your computer too. “You made a typo,” he told you. “Third line on the second paragraph.”

Mary Jane arrived late and she seemed to be in a bad mood so Gwen made up an excuse in front of your friend group as though she knew something you didn’t —she probably did— and took her home.

Looking at the time, you realized it was time for you to get going too so you started to put your things away.

‘I’m leaving with Flash,” Peter reminded you. “Text me or call me if you need me. I might not answer quickly because we’ll be playing video games but just try for a second time, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed your forehead. ”Drive carefully.”

You hummed. “Have fun, Pete.”

“You too, baby.”

Your mom didn’t give you many details when she asked you to pick your sister up. You didn’t even know with which friends she was hanging out with or why they were at the mall on a Monday and not somewhere more fun.

There you were, judging her like you hadn’t followed Harry like a puppy when you were her age.

She texted you that she was on her way to the entrance you were waiting at, telling you she had been all the way across.

It was probably a lie, but you’d let it slide.

Your sister tugged the door open and got into the car in silence, putting her cellphone away as she got comfortable.

“Did you have fun?”

She nodded and smiled at you.

You snickered and poked her cheek. “You have dried lipgloss all over your mouth.”

Your sister bashfully looked down.

You handed her a tissue. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

She stayed silent for a small moment before worriedly asking, “Are you telling mom and dad?”

“No. But I’d like to know who it was.”

She whined. “Do I really have to tell you?”

You tried to put yourself in her shoes. You didn’t know how embarrassing it would have been for you to talk about your first kiss —or kisses— with a family member because nobody really cared when you started dating classmates.

But it didn’t sound fun so instead, you asked, “Are they your age?”

“Yup ”

“You promise?”

Realizing the question was serious, she nodded for emphasis. “Yes.”

“Cool. That’s all that matters.”

Your dad was home so you were forced to stay for dinner which again, was better than being on your own.

You couldn’t wait to either get together with Harry or over him. As things were going, you could only admit it would be the latter.

“Did your friend have a good birthday?”

Your sister looked at you before answering. “Yeah, we saw a movie.”

“What was the movie about?”

Your dad really tried to get along with both of you, you had to give him that. He was bad at it most of the time, but he tried.

Your phone started ringing. As you stared at the screen, you frowned. Unknown numbers rarely called you.

Hesitant, you answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, (Name),” May tried to speak sweetly. The moment you heard her voice, you stood up from your seat on the couch and left the living room. “Peter isn’t answering his phone, can you put him on the line for me?”

You walked into the adjacent studio, weirded out by her request. “He told you he’d be with me?”

“Isn’t he?”

“He is,” you said hurriedly, “I was just curious.”

“Can I talk to him now?” May laughed nervously.

“He went out to buy food and left his phone here. I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he’s back.”

“Thank you.”

You texted him multiple times as soon as May hung up.

May called. Where are you?

She sounded worried.

I had to lie and say you had gone out to buy food and forgot your phone in case she asks.

Hey.

Pete?

Dude, you’re scaring me.

PETER

Come on

Istg I will lose my shit if you’re messing with me

It’s not funny

You made your way towards the bathroom, needing to splash some water onto your face or something. Anything.

He couldn’t be so immersed in a video game as to not answer multiple calls or texts.

Why would Peter tell May he was with you when he could easily tell her he was with Flash? Was he not at Flash’s anymore?

Perhaps Flash would reply!

You texted him and called him dozens of times before giving up. You didn’t want to think the worst, maybe they were out buying something, but they could be in danger too.

Your hands started shaking pretty quickly when the idea of something happening to him overpowered your thoughts.

You needed to get out of that bathroom and back to the living room where a distraction could meet your anxiety before you went crazy.

So you splashed your face and bolted.

Back in the living room, you caught pieces of your dad’s conversation with your sister. He was boring her with business talk.

You had been in her place many times, and although his tone was more lighthearted with her because the expectations to follow in his footsteps were on you, it was clear he was trying to get her interested in things she didn’t even understand.

Your phone dinged. You immediately looked down.

Pete❤️: I’m okay

What the fuck, Peter?

Where were you?

Busy, sorry.

Did you call May?

Yeah.

Ok.

You didn’t know what else to say. ‘I had a shitty day and you almost gave me a panic attack’ didn’t sound appropriate. It would be truthful, but you couldn’t do that to him.

Where are you?

At my parents’.

He didn’t reply anymore so you locked the device and rested your head on the arm of the couch.

What a fucking day. If your week would be half as exhausting, you were ready to give up on the entire month in advance.

Remembering you were meant to ask if Mary Jane was okay, you unlocked your cellphone again.

As you finished typing your message to Gwen, one from Peter came through.

Can you come out for a few minutes?

Yeah. Give me a moment.

You took a deep breath, fixing your outfit as you slipped your phone into your pocket. You rounded the couch as you attempted to take the path towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” your sister asked.

“Outside. I need to give something to Peter.”

“Don’t take too long,” your dad told you.

You said a meek yes as if you were going to listen to him when you needed to inspect Peter from head to toe just to make sure he was truly okay.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as Peter slowly approached you. To his credit, he looked fine so he hadn’t lied.

He spoke first, as he should have, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you mumbled.

He gave you a look.

Clearing your throat, you opened your arms only to slap your hands against your thighs in defeat. “You had me worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you going to tell me where were you?”

“I can’t.”

You scoffed. “So I have to cover for you without even knowing what the hell I’m covering?”

He whispered your name, placing his hand on your cheek as he tried to make you look at him.

You closed your eyes. “I don’t mind lying for you,” you softly said, meaning it like you had never meant anything else in your entire life. “But don’t I deserve to know why I’m lying?”

He brought you onto his chest, holding you tight against him. “You do deserve to know,” he admitted. “And I’ll tell you everything, but not tonight.”

You were scared to ask why.

════════════════════════

Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, holding you close to him as the two of you stood with your group of friends.

You hadn’t been in that place in a long time but still remembered where every room was. You also knew in which one Harry would fuck Liz at the end of the night.

You took a sip of alcohol. It didn’t taste like much — a bad sign.

Your eyes fell on the beer pong table. A guy you didn’t recognize and Harry were playing against Mary Jane and Flash. That was a bad sign too.

“I’m gonna refill my cup,” you whispered in Peter’s ear, “do you want me to refill yours?”

He shook his head. “I’ve still got plenty.”

It took you a moment to move and he didn’t make a sign to having found it weird.

The kitchen was quieter, not by much but the change was nice. Something you had always disliked about Harry was his taste in music.

You crashed against a thin body.

Liz took you by the waist and you awkwardly placed your hand on her hip, each of you steadying the other. “Sorry,” both of you apologized at the same time.

“I was distracted,” you insisted.

She took her hands off you and you did the same. Liz extended her hand so she could refill your cup for you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said as she refilled your cup. “Harry thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You know how he is.”

You didn’t. Not anymore. You took your cup from her, thanking her before bringing it to your lips.

“Well, we’re all here,” you said in pretended optimism. “And we’re all having fun.”

She smiled, looking as pretty as ever. “Damn right we are!”

You went back to Peter while Liz took off to talk to some of her friends. Once again, he threw his arm over your shoulders, hand almost brushing your chest as it dangled.

Mary Jane was back, bored of playing. Flash asked Peter to team up with him. Peter removed his arm from you, telling you he’d be back.

You focused on Peter as he rolled his sleeves on his way to the table.

Feeling something move in your pocket, you took your cellphone out. Your dad was calling.

“I need to take this call,” you told your friends.

The air was cold in comparison to the inside of the house. You let your dad call again and answered the phone, already expecting some kind of bad news.

To his credit, he sounded disappointed while telling you the plans the family had made for the next day were cancelled. He said your mom was upset.

As a child you often heard excuses for his absence. He was busy, his success depended on sacrifices, he tried his best so you and your sister could have everything you wanted.

Harry always told you to be grateful that you had loving parents. You weren’t sure you had the same definition of love.

You still assured your dad you weren’t angry and promised to spend the day with your mom and sister. His silence as an answer to your offer was a reminder that he didn’t believe you were capable of fixing meaningful problems.

You didn’t show how much it hurt you, there was no point. He meant well, your mom and sister did too.

Leaving the party sounded appealing, but your friends didn’t deserve it. You sucked it up and went back to the house.

Peter and Flash were bumping fists when you approached the area. They had won the game.

You went directly to the couch, not in the mood for dancing. Peter walked towards you, fixing his hair.

Sitting down, he twisted his upper body. “Is everything okay?”

“My dad just cancelled tomorrow’s family plans and said mom’s kinda upset.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Neither am I.” You changed the subject, “I’m surprised you won that game, though.”

“You don’t have faith in me?”

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip. “I never said that. But you have to admit you’ve never been one for taking part in games. Last time I saw you play something, you got your ass handed to you by Flash.” Twisting your mouth, you tilted your head. He looked down. “You’ve never played sports, right?”

He didn’t answer.

You insisted, “Right?”

He hummed, nodding at the same time as though it made any sense.

“Were you even listening?”

“No,” he quickly admitted. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh. He had been looking down at your mouth.

He caught you off guard. You couldn’t say no, though, you didn’t want to say no. “Yes,” you answered him.

He started slow and sweet, with his hand on your cheek as the other rested on his lap. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you just closed your eyes and kissed him back, following his rhythm.

He slowly build the kiss up, sucking your bottom lip between his. Gripping the front of his sweatshirt, you boldly bit down his bottom lip in return.

Peter wrapped his free arm around you then he brought you closer, flush against him. His tongue tried to pry your mouth open in the exact moment you were about to do the same. Your tongues clashed together and instead of turning it all awkward, it only prompted you to grab him by the hair.

Peter hummed on your mouth and continued kissing you. Now he had both hands on your body, holding you tightly by the waist.

Maybe you could take him to another room, maybe you could feel his hands on you without the burden of your clothes.

His vice grip on you made you feel like floating and you suddenly wondered why you hadn’t made out with Peter before. It didn’t have to be anything serious, it didn’t have to go past messing around.

He was attractive, so were you. Why hadn’t you seen it before? Why had you denied yourself this when he was so good at kissing and his touch was so rough you were sure he would leave marks? And you wanted him to do it, you wanted him to let himself loose on you.

Fuck, you were getting horny over your fake boyfriend.

And as if he knew exactly what was going on inside your hazy mind, he attached his lips to your neck. It was over, you were done — it would be a failure if you didn’t manage to take him to a private room or back to your apartment.

Resting a hand on his thigh as you pushed yourself over, you felt the vibration of his throat as he whimpered while you kissed him.

Something buzzed under your hand, prompting both of you to part. Panting, you stared at each other for a moment. His hair was a mess and he had never looked prettier.

He withdrew a hand from your body to take his cellphone out. You knew the mood had completely been killed when he sighed and locked the device.

“I need to do something,” he announced as he stood up. “I’ll be back.”

What? You didn’t have a chance to react, he just left you there, hot and bothered.

════════════════════════

You padded your way toward the kitchen for the second time since you had gone to bed. Sleep wasn’t necessarily elusive that night, but you found yourself waking up every hour.

Turning the lights on, you looked at the time. Almost 4:00 am. You filled a glass with water and slowly drank it.

You knew the tough day you had with your family was still doing a number on you even though you had left early, you also knew you should have been used to it by now.

Tapping against glass took you out of your mind, bringing you goosebumps. As the sound continued, you realized it was coming from the living room.

You considered going back to your room and locking yourself up which sounded safer, but curiosity overpowered logic.

A figure loomed over the windowpane. You wondered if your mind was tricking you — you lived in the fifth floor.

The figure became clearer as you got closer to the window. You let out a relieved sigh. Spider-Man waved. You tilted your head — why would Spider-Man want to visit you?

Maybe he was hurt and needed help.

You opened the window. “Can I help you?”

He nodded upward, letting you know he needed to come in. You let him, moving to the side.

He took the liberty to close the window once he was inside. You stood before him, assuming he would verbally tell you what he needed.

He wasn’t hurt from what you could see. He walked just fine, his breath wasn’t ragged... You were more confused now.

Reaching to the back of his head, Spider-Man took the mask off. Brown eyes bore into yours.

“You wanted to know what I was hiding...” Peter trailed off.

“You’re joking.”

He stepped closer to you. “I’m not.”

He had to. His sense of humor wouldn’t match a joke like this, but he had to.

The suit didn’t look like a cheap costume, but there had to be another explanation. Yes, it made sense — every time he disappeared out of nowhere and worried you sick, those days he sported black eyes or cuts on his face... but you didn’t want this to be the truth.

You dragged your finger down his arm to feel the texture of the suit.

Peter took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s okay, baby,” he huskily said. When he got no answer, Peter added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you baby.”

You inhaled deeply. “I get it, you’re getting used to it.”

He hummed, eyes on you as he sighed.

You placed your hand on his bicep. “Are you okay, Pete? I’m not going to tell anybody if that’s what worries you.”

His hands found their place on your waist. You leaned closer, seeking his warmth. Peter opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it.

He leaned in and kissed you, tentative as he gave you time to push him off you. But you didn’t, why would you?

You ran your hand through his hair as you kissed him back, already familiar with the shape of his lips and the warmth of his mouth.

He pushed you onto the wall as he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. His kiss became sloppy while his hands started wandering down.

He gripped your thighs, bringing your legs up so you’d wrap them around his waist. Both of you ground against the other, sloppily kissing. You could hear the sound your mouths were making and feel his hot breath on your face.

He was driving you crazy.

Peter didn’t stop there. Giving you room to breathe, he lowered his mouth to your neck where he took his time to find your sweet spot.

You felt his fingers up your thigh, where he played with the edge of your sleeping shorts.

He kissed, sucked, and licked his way up to your ear. “Is this okay?”

You hummed against his mouth before kissing him again pawing at his suit, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips. Frustrated, you broke the kiss. “How do you even take this thing off?”

He chuckled and gave you another kiss. “I’ll teach you.”

“Are you gonna strip for me?” you joked. Why were you making jokes right now?

Peter tilted his head. “Is that what you want?”

The idea wasn’t bad at all, yet you answered truthfully, “I just want to touch you.”

He didn’t deny you anything that morning. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed yourself that much with a sexual partner.

You didn’t leave an inch of his body untouched, relishing in his reactions. He wasn’t ashamed to tell you if he liked something, or to ask you to touch him firmly.

Peter didn’t hold back either. All he wanted was you and you weren’t complaining. He gripped you tightly and sucked on your skin as much as he was able to.

There would be bruises on you by the next day, and there would be scratches on him if his powers didn’t heal him quickly.

You liked this side of him, the side that fucked you into the mattress and groaned above you. He wasn’t scared of breaking you or hurting you — for a moment you wondered how it would feel if he did it.

He came on your belly then cleaned you up afterwards which was more than appreciated. You weren’t even sure you could speak properly when he asked if you needed water.

He brought you a glass either way, of course he did.

The sun was up when you were done, too tired to move and too spent to complain. Peter was back on the bed, warm body pressed against yours.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you tiredly answered. “I’m good.”

He held you tighter, laying his head on your chest.

You lazily dragged your fingers down his spine. “Is everything okay?”

“It was a long night,” he told you in a low voice.

You chose to believe he had visited because he thought you could provide him comfort, and you also decided that you always could — that you were okay with doing so. Even if most things about your relationship were fake, this one didn’t have to be.

════════════════════════

Peter and you never talked about it, and although you would have liked to hear the reasons behind his actions that night, you didn’t need to because it continued happening.

Having sex made pretending easier. He always had an arm around you or a hand on your body around your friends and by now you not only were used to his touch but sought it.

You often woke up next to him, sometimes clothed and sometimes naked. He always woke up before you, but he never left immediately. You wanted to know why.

Flash had been right to assume you’d develop a crush on Peter and now you had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t just a crush anymore.

You worried about him and wanted to be around him every second of every day, you liked hearing him tell you about his classes and his day — you liked that he always asked about yours, that he was willing to drop things for you because you would drop everything to be there for him.

Covering for him became a reflex. You had an inkling that May knew you were lying sometimes, but she never said anything according to Peter.

Your friends were happy with the development of your relationship which would have been lovely if this was real. But now you worried that the supposed breakup would disrupt your friend group.

It was hard not to think about it. The day would surely come and you’d be by yourself most of the time again. As if that was the only problem.

And problems continued rolling onto you. The last person you expected to see was at your door.

Harry gave you a smoldering look as you stood speechless. “Are you letting me in?”

You did.

He sat down on the couch, making himself at home even though he had barely visited your apartment.

“I thought you were sick,” he said in reference to the fact that you cancelled plans with your friends the day before.

“I was busy.”

Disgust contorted his face as his eyes fell on your neck. “Busy fucking my best friend?”

You flinched at his tone.

“I should’ve known you were only spending time with him because you wanted to get him into your bed.”

He said it as though you were the type of person to fuck anybody you met, as though you hadn’t rejected people because they weren’t him specifically.

“Believe it or not,” you coldly lied, “I started dating him months and not days before your birthday. You would’ve known about it if you talked to me.”

“Rubbing it on my face, aren’t you? Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear you were making out with him at my house after I told my friends multiple times that you were off limits?” He was seething, expelling droplets of saliva as he reproached you.

“Why would you do that in the first place? You knew I’d end up dating somebody who goes to the same school as us.”

“Why would you go for my best friend specifically? Don’t you care about my relationship with him?”

“Is this what our friendship has come to be? A reproaching fest?”

“You’re the one who crossed the line.”

“Harry, you didn’t have a problem when half our friend group drooled over him!”

“Because that’s different. I know Peter, he’s not right for you.”

You incredulously scoffed. “Funny how you’re the only one who says that.”

“I’ve never been wrong about the guys you’ve dated.”

Well, you couldn’t argue against that. But Flash was right, those guys hadn’t been the problem — the fact that you compared them to Harry was.

“Let time prove either of us right.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?”

“You promised nobody would ever be more important than me.”

You both promised a lot of things as kids... that you would never bring dates to an event you could attend together, that you would attend the same college, that you would be part of the same friend group your entire lives, that you would tell each other everything...

“I’m not saying Pete is more important than you, I’m j—“

“Break up with him, then.”

“You’re making it sound like I have to choose between you and him.”

“Because you have to.” When he didn’t get an answer, he added. “I’ll give you time to think it through.”

You wanted to do anything but think. You wanted to have your best friend back — you didn’t care if he was jealous anymore, you never should have. You weren’t Liz, it was okay, he liked her and you liked somebody else.

“Harry, come on...”

But Harry walked himself out and forced your words to die in your throat.

You never thought he would be as angry as you wanted him to be. You got your anger and your jealousy and your dilemma. He had it all clear, you were the idiot who had to get into this mess.

A shower and a portion of your comfort food later, you decided that you couldn’t be inside your head right now and left your apartment.

It was drizzling. Such a perfect weather to be inside doing everything or nothing alike.

You loved being by yourself at your place. The plan for the day had been just that. But as always, Harry made you change them.

Chastising yourself for forgetting your phone at home, you knocked on the door in front of you.

The door opened and you were greeted with a smile.

You wished you could’ve smiled back. “Hi, May, is Peter home?”

She motioned for you to come in. “He’s in his room. Do you want something to drink?”

“Not now, thank you.”

You knocked on his door, hoping he would answer before May could tell something was wrong with you.

Peter yelled for you to come in. You were an idiot, he probably had heard you talking to his aunt.

Pushing the door open, you stuck your head in. “It’s me,” you softly said just to make sure you had his permission to come in.

“Come in, baby.”

God, not that pet name. Not now.

You closed the door behind you before facing him. He was sat at his desk, writing something down on a notebook as he looked at the computer screen.

Approaching him, you leaned in to see what he was doing. You didn’t understand much of it, science was his thing.

He rotated the chair to face you. “What’s up? You didn’t text me...”

“Forgot my phone at home.”

Peter frowned and dropped his pen on top of the notebook before standing up to move towards his bed. “Are you alright?”

Did you look that bad? You weren’t wearing makeup, but he had seen your bare face plenty of times to be weirded out.

“Can I have a hug?”

Now sat on the bed, Peter opened his arms and legs so you’d make yourself at home between them.

And you did. You hugged yourself to him as tightly as you could, afraid he would let go at any moment.

He didn’t let go, you should have known he wouldn’t — your mind was playing tricks with you, that was it.

“What happened? Why are you upset?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him. Not yet, not when you were scared he would cut you off from his life just because Harry thought it was for the best.

“Had a long day yesterday and didn’t want to be alone today,” you mumbled.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” he offered. “I’ll let you pick which one we watch while I go get some snacks.”

You whined. “I don’t wanna move.”

“It’s just like ten minutes. We’ll cuddle the entire runtime.”

“You promise?”

He kissed your forehead. “I promise.”

It amazed you how easy it was to trust him, to like him, to want to be with him no matter the moment or the activity.

It took you longer to pick a movie than it took him to come back. You didn’t want any snacks, but you still took them because you didn’t want him to worry too much.

You would worry on your own later.

Peter hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands rested on your belly as he watched the movie, giving you butterflies every time he laughed against your skin.

How were you supposed to give this up when it felt so good?

════════════════════════

Mary Jane sat across from you, playing with the glass between her hands. She was listening to you, but by the way she was tapping her fingers against the glass, she was dying to interrupt.

You went on and on because you still couldn’t believe Harry would make you choose between him and somebody else. It didn’t even make sense when he had thrown you and Peter to the side when he started dating Liz.

When her time came, Mary Jane spoke, “You shouldn’t care about what Harry says.”

“I care more about the fact that I ran to Peter like a fucking idiot.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

You knew she was trying to be the voice of reason, but no, he wasn’t. That made it worse. “But doesn’t it make it look like I already chose?”

“Kinda,” she conceded. “But that’s not a bad thing necessarily.”

“Harry and I grew up together.”

“And Peter fucks you stupid. They have different roles in your life.”

You remained silent. Your cup was already empty and you didn’t need more caffeine. In fact, a soothing tea would have been a better choice — you needed to drive after this once your sister was done with her friends.

“Do you still like Harry or something? I will kill you if you say yes.”

You got that from her tone, she didn’t have to tell you. “I don’t know.”

“But you like Peter more... Right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Maybe liking was selling it short at this point.

Peter didn’t make you choose, and if anything between you were real he wouldn’t make you choose either. You were so sure that you would’ve bet your own life on it.

That fact was a problem. Why couldn’t Harry be like Peter?

“Maybe I need another opinion,” you mused out loud.

“Gwen will tell you the same.”

“What about Flash? Maybe if he had all the details...”

“Flash will try to convince you to kill Harry in his sleep.”

“You think so?” Of course he would, but you were desperate.

“He’s team Peter all the way. Honestly, I would think they have something going on if Peter wasn’t so into you.”

You avoided looking at her. “What should I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Just... I don’t know. About what? From what?”

“Do you want to choose?”

“No.”

“You could choose neither of them.”

“But—“ You shook your head.

“No, say it.”

“I can’t.”

Mary Jane wouldn’t pressure you to talk, she wasn’t that kind of person.

“At least tell Peter about it before Harry does,” she advised.

“I’ll tell him once I’m done here.”

It was late when your sister met you at your table. Mary Jane had left two hours earlier and you had even entertained yourself looking around a few stores and come back.

You drove in silence, allowing her to talk if she wanted to. Maybe asking something would’ve been better, but you didn’t have the energy to find out who your sister was dating or why she had decided to hide it.

Enough was already on your plate, and you needed to trust her, unlike your parents.

Stopping the car, you waited for her to get inside. Your mom hurried outside the moment she opened the door and walked towards your car.

She made you a sign with her hand, asking you to roll the window down.

With a sigh, you indulged her.

“Dinner tomorrow,” she drily told you. “You should bring Peter, I think it’s time your dad meets him.”

“Mom, I’m not marrying him or something like that.”

“I don’t care. Bring him.”

Great. Another fucking problem you had to deal with now. Your dad had always been clear on the type of person he wanted for you and Peter was not it. A shame, really.

“I’ll ask if he isn’t busy,” you compromised.

She looked happy with that. Your mom wished you a good night and turned around. You watched her get inside the house, wondering if she truly wanted you there the next day or not. You never knew with her.

You didn’t get to talk to Peter that night. Instead of telling him you wanted to see him so you could talk in person, you told him your parents wanted to have dinner with him.

Peter said yes immediately and asked about the dress code. God, you didn’t even want to think about clothes.

And with good reason — it wasn’t fair that everything suited him. There was no color or style Peter couldn’t pull off.

But it was probably for the best, he’d make a good impression that way.

You wanted your dad to like him and your sister to trust him and your mom to laugh at his lame jokes. You wanted them to see the person you desperately wanted to be in your life until your last day alive.

Truthfully, you didn’t care if he had feelings for you like you did for him. You enjoyed being around him, his friendship was enough.

The surprise the two of you got when Norman and Harry stood up to greet you was extremely hard to hide.

Norman gave you and Peter a warm smile. “I told Harry to bring his girlfriend, but he didn’t listen to me.”

You shifted on your feet, using Peter as leverage to ground yourself by squeezing his fingers between yours.

Your mom smiled tightly. “Next time it will be.”

Much like Flash did with you, Norman talked wonders about Peter to your parents.

You avoided looking at Harry with the pretense of being polite by gazing at whoever was speaking. Such gesture didn’t sit well with him and he showed it by standing up and walking towards you.

Harry inhaled deeply. “Can we talk in private?”

Unconsciously, you turned to look at Peter. He patted your thigh in encouragement.

“Sure,” you feigned enthusiasm.

You walked across the house in silence, wishing he would tell you to forget about what he said before.

Harry stared at you as you looked around the backyard. Not only were you avoiding speaking first, but you were confused as to when the lighting fixtures had been changed.

The spot you were awkwardly standing at had witnessed many secrets being exchanged between you. Perhaps it would be witness and accomplice of your fallout too.

“So you’ve made your choice.”

“Harry...”

His furious eyes bored into yours. “Why the fuck did you bring him?”

“I wanted to,” you confessed. “Mom told me I should and I agreed.”

“We never bring dates tho dinners like these. We promised,” he reminded you.

“He’s not just a date, this is different.”

“I didn’t invite Liz because I keep my promises.”

“You didn’t invite Liz because you didn’t want to.” You hated that he couldn’t own up to his mistakes with her when he loved her so much. “Stop holding a stupid promise I made when I was six against me.”

“You wouldn’t have liked it if I brought her here while you were single.”

“You stopped talking to me the moment you started dating her. I would’ve expected it.”

“So you went and tricked my best friend into a relationship.”

Was that he thought about you? That you manipulated or forced people to be around you?

“Your best friend? You barely talk to him anymore, Harry. And don’t you dare tell me it’s Liz’s fault.”

He ignored your first comment. “Now I will get in trouble with her for not taking her here if she sees pictures.”

“Call her and tell her the truth. Or blame me, I don’t care.”

“It is your fault,” he bitingly said, “you brought him to something special for us.”

“I didn’t even know you’d be here! And honestly, you should be happy for me.”

“I would be if he wasn’t my best friend.”

“Again with that...” You sighed, hoping you could find the right words. “I don’t want to choose, Harry, and it fucking hurts that you from all people are putting me in this situation God knows why.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s because Peter is—“

You interrupted him, “Peter being your best friend doesn’t matter, he’s not going to drop you like you dropped us.”

“I know I dropped you for a while, but Liz needed my attention.”

You didn’t blame him for focusing more on her, or for wanting to spend most of his time with her, but you knew for a fact that Liz made time for her friends; Harry could’ve done the same.

You started tearing up There was the problem, Harry couldn’t make time for you or Peter or Gwen even when he was free.

Harry stammered, but not a single word came out of his mouth after that. It only made you cry harder. Did he not care even a little bit?

“I’ll give you a moment alone,” he finally mumbled.

You walked further down the backyard, cursing yourself for crying and for wearing uncomfortable shoes. You were supposed to look pretty and taller, not to ruin your makeup and walk around furniture and plants.

You sat on the couch before deciding to lay down on your side. You used to do that when you were a kid too. You’d wait for the pool to be ready in that position and you would lay on your back when you wanted your mom to ask if something was wrong.

Right now, you weren’t sure what you wanted. You definitely didn’t want to talk to whoever the approaching steps belonged to.

You still looked up as a figure stood before you.

Peter crouched down and reached over to wipe your tears. The gesture made more tears come out.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a hand on your waist and slipping his other hand to your back to make you sit up. He sat down beside you. “Come here.”

Peter brought you closer, making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why he’s making me choose between you and him,” you lamented.

“He is?”

Fuck. You had assumed Harry had told him and that was why he was there. “I didn’t know how to tell you...”

Humming, he rubbed your arm up and down. “You can tell him the truth if you want.”

You lifted your head off his shoulder, searching for his eyes. He didn’t seem to mean it in a bad way. You shook your head.

“Are you sure? I can tell him if you want.”

“It would be pointless.”

“I don’t like seeing you cry.”

“We should change the subject then.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just...” Peter pursed his lips, second-guessing his next words. “It pains me to see you upset.”

“Peter,” you pleaded, “don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You’re making everything more difficult than it already was.”

He slanted his head, taken aback. “Because I care about you?”

“Because I think I’m in love with you.”

Peter blinked rapidly before his eyes started dancing all over your face as though he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you didn’t have much to say anymore. All your cards were on the table. Although you had to admit his lack of response would drive you insane if he continued looking at you like that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you lied. “I’m okay with being just friends. I just thought you should know.”

“No, no, no.” He shook his head, taking himself out of his self-absorption. “I feel the same, I promise! But... I don’t want to ruin your friendship with Harry.”

“So you’re making me choose too?”

“No. I just don’t want you to regret being in a real relationship with me because you lost your best friend.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Yeah, you’re right...” Peter looked up at the sky and huffed a laugh.

You mirrored his movement. The sky was clear, allowing you the privilege to gaze at the stars.

“Remember that night I walked you to your place and we stopped in the middle of the street to look at the stars?”

You giggled. You had been on the verge of crying that night after Harry ditched you for Liz if it hadn’t been because Gwen distracted you. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Should I have kissed you that night?”

You weren’t sure, it was hard to know if you would’ve kissed back or not. You wanted to believe you wouldn’t have, but who knew. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Peter twisted his body and cupped your cheek so you’d look at him. You softly smiled at him and he gave you a small kiss. “Not anymore.”

[mrkcore]

𝐄𝐏 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au (cs - computer science major haechan, psychology major y/n)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): suggestive innuendo(s), infidelity, drinking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: the first chapter of the and they were roommates! series :D send in an ask or comment here to be added to the taglist! (sorry for the delay, i have been really unproductive so uh, yeah)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

you’ve been stuck with haechan for about a month. you’ve successfully avoided him for the majority of the time, he’s still a bit flirty, but he’s been pretty quiet too.

except for when he streams. did he mention that he was a streamer? unfortunately no, you had to find out the hard way.

“haechan, can you fucking tone it down?” you storm into his room after enduring half an hour of his screaming on a thursday night. “i have an essay due tomorrow and it’s 30 percent of my mar-”

you see a professional looking mic, webcam, and another monitor with what seems like comments flowing in constantly on the screen.

“oh…” you trail off taking in all the equipment in front of you as haechan looks up at you.

“oh hey, sorry about that, jeno and renjun were being noobs and i needed to teach them a lesson, chat knows. i’ll keep it down, sorry.” he turns back to his game in front of him, completely unbothered.

“yeah.. uh sorry for barging in, thanks.” you say quickly and dash out his room, hearing the other voices from his headset laugh.

your face is hot, and you feel so embarrassed. 

anyways, lesson learned.

a few days later, you were complaining to your friend about haechan on a zoom call–as usual.

this time, however, she needed to spill the tea about her thoughts.

“ma’am, what is this tension,” she jokes. “i can feel it from miles away.”

“hey!” you snap back. “need i remind you that i have a boyfriend? and haechan? ew no, he gets on my nerves too much for that.”

“oh right, your boyfriend.” she rolls her eyes.  “i think you need to visit him, you’re so uptight all the time, i’m gonna get wrinkles if you keep complaining to me about shit.”

“oh right, restrictions have been slightly lifted, i can probably go visit him.” you remember reading about it in the news.

“yep, go.” your friend sips on her iced coffee and you laugh.

the next day, you go through with your plan to go visit your boyfriend.

all prepped and ready and you were going to walk out the door before you hear haechan coming out his room.

“oh, good morning, i’ll be out for a bit, maybe the whole day.” you say to him.

“good morning.” he yawns. “look at you all dolled up and pretty, where you going?” he smirks as you roll your eyes.

“visiting my boyfriend,” you scowl out. “now if you’ll excuse me, i better get going.”

“oh great, hope you enjoy your time with him.” he smiles and you think he’s going to be nice for once. “don’t forget protection.”

you groan. of course he had to ruin it.

“thanks haechan.” you yell behind you as you walk out the door.

it takes around 1 hour to drive to your boyfriend’s university, and an additional 10 minutes to his apartment, and you’re giddy the whole time. 

you’ve missed human interaction. 

and no, lee haechan does not count. 

you’ve missed the warmth and fuzzy feeling of an embrace, of having someone’s arms around you, protecting you from the outside world. 

you couldn’t wait to get cuddles.

hopefully your boyfriend likes this surprise.

gleefully walking into the building, pressing in the password to his apartment complex. completely missing the creaking coming from his room, but as you entered, you hear the voice of another person, who was definitely not your boyfriend.

you stomp right up to the door, and push it open.

there’s two people in the bed, and your eyes glower at your boyfriend.

“what?” the girl screams, scrambling to cover herself.

“babe?” your boyfriend is frozen on the spot as the girl looks at him as if he just said the most bizarre thing ever.

“babe?” she seems angry now. “you said you were single? what the fuck?”

“yeah, i think he lied to you.” you say coldly. “do you have anything to confess, ‘babe’?”

“you’re a douche, what the fuck.” she gets up and gets dressed. “i’m so sorry, he told me he was available, i would literally never agree to sleep with anyone who’s taken.”

“yeah, it’s okay.” you say, kind of relieved, and the two stare are you like you’re an alien. “at least now i know what type of person i was dating.”

and you turn to walk out.

“wait, babe please.” your ex tries to run after you. “y/n, let me explain.”

“no need to, we’re over.” you turn to say. “you need a ride?” you ask the girl.

“yeah sure.” she says. “don’t call me.”  

“babe please, can we talk this out?”

you couldn’t believe it. you drove 1 hour to see him and he has the audacity to pull this shit and expect you to just easily forgive? nope, lesson learned.

pfft, and he said long distance would work. 

“no we can’t, now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” you grab the girls arm and walk out the door, slamming it in front of your ex’s face before he can catch up.

“do you have any plans for the rest of today?” you ask the girl after entering your car. she shakes her head while you smile. “great, any bar or night club recommendations you have?”

“uhh, bar then nightclub?” she suggests. 

“i like the way you think.” you giggle. “i’m y/n btw.”

“yina.” she smiles back at you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

a few hours later, and way too many drinks in, you’re at a table with yina, spilling your deepest secrets about your relationship with your ex.

“can you believe he made me wash his socks?” you take a sip before continuing. “and with my hands too!”

“what? that’s disgusting!” she listens to you rant in disbelief.

“yeah, he said that his socks were precious and the washing machine was too harsh on the cotton or some crap.” you snicker as you recall the other stupid stuff he told you. “ah the shit i did for love.”

“men are trash,” yina says. “cheers to that.” and you both down the rest of what’s left of your drink.

fast forward another 2 hours, you’re wasted. absolutely wasted. 

yina held you back a little bit, but its no use. you needed this.

“y/n, it’s like 11 pm, you’re drunk, i’m barely sober, i think we should call someone to come and get us.” yina tries to reason with you while you shake your head.

finally after 10 minutes of bickering, you finally agree.

“here’s my phone, you can call anyone.” you rest your head on your folded hands after handing her your unlocked phone. “anyone but haechan.” you start to doze off. “anyone but haechan…”

“hbbhng” you jolt up, feeling the warmth of your own bed. 

how did you get back home?

groaning, you feel your headache. you feel the vomit coming up your throat as you gag.

you almost fall trying to get out of your covers.

“woah there, be careful.” haechan is suddenly barging into your room, holding onto you so you don’t fall on your face, guiding you to your bathroom.

you’re too nauseous to wonder why he’s even helping you or even bother screaming at him like usual.

he pats your back soothingly as you vomit into the toilet.

“there you go, that’s it. i’ve got you.” he reassures you.

“what are you even doing helping me?” you’ve washed up and downed some water, you’re 100% sober now.

“wow,” haechan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “after saving your ass last night, this is the thank you i get?”

“what do you mean you saved me?” you’re genuinely confused by what he means.

“this yina girl called me from your phone, telling me that you’re blacked out drunk in a nightclub at 11:32 PM, on a saturday. asking me to come and get you.” he says, matter-of-factly. “i call a cab, get to the nightclub, haul your ass out the club, drive yina back home, and then us. where during our commute back, you wake up, start crying, and when we get home, you’re bawling about how your boyfriend cheated and you were a dumbass for thinking he would change. remember now?”

you’re in shock.

yina called haechan? you remember clearly that you told her not to, this is so embarrassing. you even cried about your ex to him? oh dear lord you wanted to crawl back into your room into a deep pit and never come out. 

haechan must’ve noticed your distressed expression because his face turns softer.

“hey hey hey, sorry, that was a bit mean. you just got out of a relationship, that was really inappropriate of me and i do not blame you for wanting to relax a bit.” he tries to comfort you once again. you’re in even more shock by his words. “honestly, me driving you back home, and taking care of you was the least i could do. it would have been so mean if i just left you guys there.”

you wanted to burst out into tears. 

this is the nicest thing you’ve heard in about 6 months.

unfortunately, haechan doesn’t know that.

“oh gosh, jheez, i’m not helping aren’t i.” he’s panicked by your emotional state. “uhm, to make it up to you, i’ll watch one of those scary movies with you?”

your tears instantly are sucked back into your eyes in excitement.

“really?” you ask, just making sure.

“yep, ahaha.” he laughs nervously, but happy to see your mood lighten up.

“you free tonight?” bouncing up and down practically.

“yeah…” haechan is a bit scared. “aren’t you going a bit too fast though, princess? you jut got out of a relationship.”

you gasp and slap him in the arm.

“okay okay! that was a joke. yeah i’m free, i have an essay due, but i’ll be done by 6.” haechan says.

“sounds good!” you b-line for the kitchen, your stomach is completely empty. “see you then haechan!”

oh how haechan regrets his offer.

6 o’clock rolls by, and you choose “the shining” to watch with haechan. anticipating the terror it would bring him. 

and you were right.

every jumpscare, even the smallest sounds, haechan would screech in fright. the last straw for him was the knock on your door.

“AHHHH!” he screams, almost knocking the popcorn out of your hands.

“calm down, dude.” you say, standing up to open the door.

to the unfortunate sight of your ex.

“y/n?” he says, softly.

“what are you doing here? how did you find out where i lived?” you were very sure you never gave him your dorm address.

“your friend gave it to me,” the eye bags he has are very evident. “listen, can we talk?”

“no?” haechan suddenly butts into the conversation. “you literally cheated on her, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

“who are you? her rebound?” your ex frowns. 

“her roommate, and if you even bothered to keep up with y/n, you’d know.” haechan returns the frown.

“it’s between me and y/n, you have no business telling us what to do.” your ex is getting more aggressive now.

“that’s funny, i was the one who was called to drive her home while she was out drunk, i was the one who listened to her talk about how she regretted believing you again, i was the one who held her hair back when she was vomiting this morning from her hangover.” haechan again returns the energy. “you tried to contact her, but she blocked your number and you had to get her address from her friend. you never even cared to ask her beforehand, and now you wanna try and show up to seem like you care? bullshit. now if you’ll excuse us now, we have a movie to finish.” he slams the door in his face and haechan surprises you for the millionth time today.

your ex bangs on the door for about 3 minutes before giving up, and you guys sit in silence as the movie still plays.

“hey haechan.” you try and start.

“AHHH!” he screams again, scaring you this time.

“JHEEZ BRO I WAS TRYING TO START A CONVO, CHILL OUT.” you scream back.

“okay, i’m fine, yeah sorry, continue.” haechan pants out.

“thanks for that.” you say, genuinely. “not even joking, you didn’t have to do that.”

“well i did, because that dude was a douche. literally having the guts to come over here and try and ask for forgiveness after he cheats. unbelievable.”

“yeah.” you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“i like this side of you,” haechan breaks the awkwardness. “you’re usually uptight, little-miss-perfect, and cranky, so i like this raw side of you.”

“mhm, i realized that now. sorry for being such a bitch.” you admit.

“no, i honestly deserve it. but i hope we can be friends now, it would be great to have real conversations with someone, you know?” he says.

“seriously?” you hit him in the chest as he chuckles.

“i’m joking! i swear. but seriously, friends?” he asks.

“yeah, friends.” 

and that’s where it started.

© mrkcore. 2021.

[maybege]

Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

*

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

*

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

*

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

*

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual. 

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present. 

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next. 

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment. 

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles. 

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you. 

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.   

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features. 

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. 

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after. 

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

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[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 12: Lost

[prev] [next]

[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

warnings: mentions of sex

You and Kia prepare for your trip, waiting for Akaashi. He mentioned about picking you up since Bokuto lent him his car. You remember about the card Sakusa told you about.

You go to his room, making sure you don’t touch anything, and see that there are two bedside tables. You checked the one on the left first. You open the drawers and see boxes of condoms, some opened, some still new. You close it and go to the other table to get the card.

Something in you says to go check the other drawer again, but it would make you feel guilty. You hear Akaashi’s car honk so you go out instead. You take Kia from the couch and leave the house.

‘Did he date someone in the last 3 years?’ The thought is bothering you and Akaashi notices. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. He carries Kia and puts  Kia in the safety seat of the car. He returns to the driver’s seat while you sit on the shotgun seat.

You continue to think about what you saw. You broke up. So what if he had a girlfriend? You have no right to dig in your nose into his business. Why are you so upset about him having sex with other women? He’s a grown man. He has his needs.

“You’re spacing out,” Akaashi points out. You shake the thoughts off your mind and stare out of the window. You groan, the thoughts coming back in again. “Spill it.” So you do. You tell him about what you saw. “Why are you so upset? So what if he had sex with someone? You broke up with him, remember?”

“Exactly why I’m bothered!” You cover your face with your hands in frustration.

“If you’re so bothered, why don’t you ask him about it later?” Akaashi suggests, his eyes on the road. You sigh, nodding.

You three arrive at the theme park and suddenly you feel at ease to be outside again. Kia starts running, but luckily, Akaashi has long legs. He easily keeps up with her. You make your way to the booth, while Akaashi carries Kia around to look at some figurines by the entrance.

After you successfully retrieve your reservation tickets, you enter the theme park. Despite being a weekday, it’s still packed with tourists. There are also students in uniforms, probably in a school trip.

“Mama! Look! Robot!” Kia points to the Bumblee Bee statue. Akaashi puts her down and she runs to the statue. The figure starts speaking and Kia’s mouth hangs wide open in amazement. “It talks! Mama! Keikei! It talks!”

You continue to walk around the theme park, stopping on shops and stalls from time to time. While Akaashi excuses himself to go the toilet, you see an ice cream food stall and Kia immediately asks you to buy some for her. You take her to the stall and carry her so she can choose a flavor.

“That would be 600 yen,” the shopkeeper tells you. You put Kia down to take money out of your wallet. You pay for the ice cream. The employee gives you the treat and when you look down, Kia isn’t by your side anymore. “Kia?”

You go around the stall, in hopes that Kia just took a look somewhere near. You search and search but you don’t see any sign of your daughter. Akaashi comes back and sees you getting antsy.

“Where’s Kia?”

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“Take a good rest, boys. We’ll be back to practice next week. Enjoy your free time because we won’t be having any left after this. Cool down and you may leave,” the MSBY Black Jackals coach announces. The players thank him and say their good byes.

“Training ended earlier than I thought,” Atsumu sighs in relief. “I’m so excited to go home and be in the comfort of my bed.”

“Wanna go to the gym together this Saturday, Bokuto-san?” Hinata asks the older player as they start stretching.

“If I don’t have anything to do,” Bokuto replies.

“Isn’t Akaashi in town?” Sakusa speaks, stretching his wrists. Bokuto’s attention gets stuck on the other spiker’s wrists and he forgets to respond. “Hey.”

“Oh, yeah. Akaashi is in town. How’d you know?” Bokuto eyes the curly haired man in suspicion.

“(Y/N) told me. They’re in Universal today,” Sakusa explains.

“Omi, you’re okay with Kia going to crowded places that is surely full of other people’s germs?” The blonde questions, stretching his legs.

“Do you really think I expect her to grow up like me?” Sakusa rolls his eyes, stretching his back this time. “Germs can be washed away. They can get disinfected. It’s nothing compared to Kia’s upbringing. I don’t have plans to raise her to be clean, I want her to grow up to be someone who she wants to be.”

Atsumu smiles because of his teammate’s response. Not long ago, he would think of Kia as some sort of hindrance, but now he seems happy that she’s around. The blonde also noticed how Sakusa is gradually becoming more soft with his words and actions.

They finish stretching and go back to their dorms. Sakusa is packing his things when he suddenly feels anxious. He can’t think straight. He feels something bad is about to come. He opens his door and check the hallway. “Miya’s not here. If it’s not him, what could it be?”

Sakusa goes back into his room, hearing his phone ring. He sees Kia’s contact name and answers quickly.

“What is it Kia?”

“Kyo... I lost mama,” Kia cries on the other line.

That tone. That way she said it. The feel. It’s too similar with your words 3 years ago.

“Omi... Let’s break up.”

“What? Where are you right now?” Kiyoomi runs out of the dorms. Adrenaline kicking in as he hears Kia’s sobs.

“Why? Let’s talk about it. I’m coming over.”

“I see a dinosaur,” Kia responds, worry and panic in her voice.

“I just don’t see a future for us, Omi.”

“Don’t end the call, okay?” Kiyoomi says softly despite his worries. He hears Kia crying again. He starts his car and connects his phone to the bluetooth of his car. “Hey, stop crying. I’m on my way. Just stay wherever you are.” He doesn’t get respond so he speeds up his driving. “Kia? Baby?”

“Is it something I did? Tell me! Don’t just ignore me, (Y/N).”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’m sorry, Sakusa. But I can’t do this anymore.”

Kiyoomi’s sports car has never been put into good use until now. He arrives in the theme park in top speed record. Luckily, there isn’t a queue on the booths so he gets a ticket promptly.

“Kia?” He puts his phone close to his ear, looking at the theme’s park map. “Are you still near the dinosaurs?”

“You’re joking, right? Tell me this is a prank.”

“Yes. Kia stayed here like you told me,” Kia responds, already calmed down. Kiyoomi rushes to the Jurassic Park area and looks for her in every corner. But Kia couldn’t explain her exact location well. He spots a kid and calls him.

“No. This isn’t a joke.”

“Have you seen this child?” He shows the back of his phone to the boy. The boy nods.

“Yes. She’s sitting near the entrance of the restaurant,” the boy answers. Before Kiyoomi could thank him, the boy recognizes him. “Aren’t you Sakusa Kiyoomi? I’m a big fan of your team!”

“Ah, thanks. Come to my next game, okay? I’ll give you a jersey.” Kiyoomi leaves him and goes to where the kid directed.

Kiyoomi spots her and his steps become bigger and his pace becomes faster. Kia sees him so she climbs down of the bench she is sitting on and runs to meet Kiyoomi halfway. He takes her into his arms, tightly hugging her. He feels her wrap her arms around him, and his heart starts breaking into pieces.

“(Y/N), I know you’re still in there. Whatever it is, let’s work it out,” Kiyoomi shouted from outside of your apartment’s door. He’s been sitting there for hours now. He leaned his back on your door, his knees close to his chest.

Did you really leave?

Were you not coming back?

There are a lot of words he had yet to tell you. He wanted to see you two accomplish your dreams together. He wanted to wake up and the first thing he sees is your face. He wanted to come home and receive your hugs as soon as he steps into the door. He wanted to see you walk down the aisle. He wanted to grow old with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were all he wanted.

He regretted not hugging you tighter. He regretted not kissing you more. He regretted not spending a lot with you. If only he could do all those things one more time.

“I love you...” He cried. You always said those three words first. Why weren’t you responding?

He’s too late.

He had already lost you.

"Kyo, why are you crying?” Kia asks him, her small hands on his cheeks. She starts tearing up, sad that he’s crying. He doesn’t even know he’s crying. His thoughts is too full of fear and anxiety.

There are still a lot of lessons about life he wants to teach Kia. He wants to see her accomplish her dreams. He wants to drop her off to school. He wants to receive her hugs as he comes home from practice. He wants to see her fall in love with someone who loves her just as much as she does. He wants to see Kia grow. He wants her to see him as her father for the rest of her life.

He regrets not hugging her tight enough. He regrets not kissing her good morning and good night. He regrets not spending time with her. He regrets not being there from the start.

What if he was too late?

What if he didn’t answer her call?

What if he lost her?

“Kyo? Are you mad?” Kia’s lower lip is quivering, tears already coming out of her eyes.

“Kia..” he calls her. She pulls away from his hand and looks at him.

“Yes?” Kia’s voice is shaky. She’s afraid he’ll scold her. She promised to be a good girl. What if he hates her?

Kiyoomi takes a look at her face. He caresses her cheek with his thumb, then plants a kiss on her forehead.  ‘But I’m not too late this time. So I’ll make sure I won’t regret anything. I will never lose the two of you again.’

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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

Facts:

Most dinosaurs were vegetarian

Many dinosaurs had feathers

The longest dinosaur name is Micropachycephalosaurus

Small carnivore dinosaurs are most likely to be the smartest type of dinosaurs

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirls arianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroo n1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskerville marvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09  ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi

[dcforts]

[day 19: photographs]

Miracle likes Cas right away, from the moment he sees him coming out of the rift, one arm slung over Dean’s shoulders.  

One sniff at his boots, one at the hand tentatively offered seem to be more than enough to convince him. He doesn't even have to pet him once.

Dean can’t blame him honestly and he doesn’t mind sharing the morning cuddles if Miracle still chooses to trail after him in the kitchen when he gets up, keeps him company in the garage and comes running to him if he wants a cuddle.

He spends all his nap times with Cas though. At first, he gets in the habit of falling asleep laying across his feet whenever Cas is sitting down and more than once Dean finds him in uncomfortable positions yet unwilling to move, insisting that he'd rather suffer than bother Miracle.

One time Dean happens to have his phone in his hand so he stops to take a picture with an amused smile, despite the annoyed face Cas makes at the camera.

Then Cas and Miracle start napping together.

In the library, in front of the tv, and some nights on the bed leaving barely any room for Dean to squeeze in next to them and then, when they get to their new place, it happens in the study, on their couch, and still sometimes on the bed but Dean doesn’t need to try and squeeze in next to them anymore cause they got a bigger one.

Dean takes a picture the first time he sees them, because it's the first time and needs to be documented. The second time, they're in a weird position and he wants to show it to Cas later and the third time - well, they just look cute.

On the day they move out he takes a picture of Miracle in front of the bunker’s door. Then they stop for gas and Miracle looks so happy with his head sticking out of the car window that he has to take one there, and then another one in front of their new house and then he finds that he just – can’t stop.

He gets him a rubber chicken that makes a sound the annoys the crap out of Cas. Dean takes a picture of him as it happily chews on it.

Miracle tries to get Dean to play one afternoon, pushing his snout against his hands, scratching at his jeans and resting his head on Dean’s tight, looking up at him. The pleading eyes is what does it. Dean closes his laptop shut to concede defeat and stand up but first he snaps a picture of him.

He wakes from where he's fallen asleep on the couch in Cas’ arms and finds their feet trapped by a heavy furry donut. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table and snaps a picture of him.

It gets – a little out of control, but Dean doesn’t realize it, not until Sam comes around one time and he's scrolling through his phone, saying, “Dude, how many pictures of Miracle have you got?”

A very pregnant Eileen rounds the kitchen table to look over his shoulder and raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she says, “you got a problem.”

Dean leans over to snatch it away from his hands. “What are you talking about?" he says, but from just a quick look at his gallery it's pretty clear that she may be right.

There's Miracle. Then Miracle. One of Cas. Miracle and Cas. Miracle sans Cas. He and Cas. Sam and Eileen from when they all went to that restaurant on Saturday. Miracle. Cas. Miracle. Garth holding a plant? A colour palette for the guest room. Three of Miracle that look identical. The tap he's eyeing for their unfinished upstairs bathroom. Miracle again. Miracle as he's running in the park -

He puts his phone down. "It’s Cas, he’s always stealing my phone,” he says lamely, and he knows he doesn’t sound at all convincing so he adds, “And Jack wants me to send him pictures all the time.”

Eileen nods to herself, “God wants my brother in law to text him dog pics,” she says and signs, "Okay cool. Totally normal."

“Whatever. You’ll be worse than me when that one gets out,” he says pointing at Eileen’s belly. She laughs and Dean looks at her to say, “Sam will be one of those that shows pictures of their children to strangers, you know that, right?”

Behind Sam's back she silently signs, "I know," but Sam catches her anyway and bitchfaces them both, betrayed. “I’m not! And - we were talking about Dean and his obsession. I’m surprised you don’t have them framed all around the house.”

Cas chooses that moment to come in from the back door with Miracle in tow. “Not yet,” he says, amused.

Dean doesn’t even bother arguing, all he has eyes for is that fluffy ball running happily towards him, as if they haven’t seen each other less than an hour before. "There he is!" he says with a silly voice that makes Miracle wag his tail more energetically.

He crouches to take his head in his hands, "Did you have a good walk? Yes?” he says as Miracle wiggles like a fish in a net. He frees himself from his hold just to run around the kitchen table and get himself quickly pet by Sam and Eileen before going back to Dean with renewed energy, jumping on him and licking his cheek. Dean scratches behind his ears, “Uncle Sam is jealous cause he's as not photogenic as you. Well, he won’t get the awesome Christmas card we prepared for him this year, will he? He doesn’t deserve it.”

Cas has put away leash and waste bags and he's watching them with a smile. "We need to wash up," he says, so Dean plants a parting kiss on Miracle's snout and says, "Alright, go," but he stays put.

And yet, as soon as Cas says, "Come on, Miracle," he immediatly runs to his side and even anticipates him out of the room.

Dean stands up, throwing his hands in the air, “Can you believe this? He does everything he tells him, I say ‘sit’ and he licks my face.”

Sam and Eileen laugh at him and then Sam gets to his feet.

"We should go, we still need to go to the store," he says as they put their jacket on.

"Thanks for the coffee," signs Eileen, and then asks "Are we still on for Friday?"

"Yeah."

Sam says, "Cool. And if you find that picture I asked you in Miracle's personal photo book send it my way."

Dean flips him off.

"Add me to your dog mailing list," says Eileen when they get to the door and Dean rolls his eyes but gives her a hug and says, "I will."

Sam shouts "Bye Cas," immediatly followed by a "Bye, see you on Friday," coming from the bathroom down the hall.

Dean stays on the door to watch them as they get in the car and drive away.

Then he goes back to the kitchen, turns the radio on, washes up the coffee mugs and starts dinner.

When the timer dings, he turns off the oven, sets the table for two and goes to find Cas.

Sure enough, he's in the bedroom and he's fallen asleep on top of the covers with a hand on Miracle's back and him curled towards him, his head near Cas' shoulder.

Dean stops in his track. Flipping his family off in his mind, he takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the two.

Then carefully, as not to disturb Miracle, he climbs into bed to lay down right on top of Cas.

Cas makes a oof sound when he drops his weight on his chest but one of his arms circles him all the same.

"If you sleep now you're gonna be up all night," Dean says kissing his chin and jaw and any part of his face he can reach.

"Mh," says Cas cracking his eyes open, "you're heavy."

"Dinner is ready."

At that, Miracles lifts his head and his ears perks up, clearly interested in the conversation. He starts wagging his tail. Dean and Cas share an amused smile.

"Just another minute," says Cas.

"Alright," says Dean, planting one last kiss against his cheek, but when he tries to push himself up, Cas doesn't let him go.

He says, "Stay," and Dean doesn't need to hear it twice to collapse down once again. Miracle does the same; Dean closes his eyes and feels his wet nose against his forehead and his breath on his face as he gets comfortable.

"Wait, you meant that for me or Miracle?"

"Both," says Cas, one hand stroking his back, the other on Miracle's head. "Did you take a picture when you came in?"

"No," mumbles Dean, and then after a moment, "Maybe."

Cas huffs a laugh and Dean gets to feel it against his chest. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to match his breath with Cas' under him and Miracle's on his face and that's how he dozes off, smiling.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

[capaimagines]

bts - married life

Pairing: BTS x Reader | Genre: fluff | Warnings: none | WC: 2.0k

kim namjoon 

↬ Absolutely loves coming home to your cooking.

↬ He would have the brightest smile across his face when he comes home after a long day to see you dancing around in the kitchen.

↬ The first thing he would do every day is kiss you hello and tell you how much he missed you.

↬ You would always tease him; “You saw me just this morning!” even though you really missed him too.

↬ The two of you loved cuddles. He would always refuse to go to bed unless he had you wrapped up in his arms like a koala.  He loved the scent of your shampoo, it always relaxed him and helped him fall asleep quicker.

↬ Hearing the sound of his heartbeat and feeling his warmth helped calm you down and you always forced his hand to your head so he can run his fingers through your hair.

↬ There’s an unspoken routine; you cook and clean whilst he does all the rest.  Putting up shelving, moving furniture, taking out the trash, etc. He’d prefer if you didn’t do anything, but he knows you’re too headstrong to listen to him!

↬ You still worked though, because you were adamant that you weren’t going to rely on him even though you’ve been married for a few years now. It’s something he adored and admired about you.

↬ You also really loved making meals for all the members and their partners. Getting together at your home is something you love and Namjoon smiles adoringly when he sees the light in your eyes with the rest of his family. You were made for him.

↬ He just loves and adores you so much, he couldn’t ask for a better person to come home too.

kim seokjin 

↬ He’s the one who cooks for you all the time.

↬ Never lets you in the kitchen unless he’s there to supervise, but he does love cooking with you; it’s something you two do together a lot. More so, you observe whilst he cooks.

↬ You always make dessert and he cooks the main meal. It was always that way before you were ever married.

↬ He loves to spoil you; always comes home with your favorite flowers.  There’s so many now that your home has become its own flower field basically.

↬ ALWAYS and I mean always, kisses you good morning and it’s the best way to start your day.

↬ If you had kids, he’d be the best dad (you couldn’t wait!)

↬ Honestly, Jin would be just like them and you’d feel like you had a house of kids.

↬ He’d teach them to cook, get up early on Saturday’s to watch cartoons with them, take them to school before going to work.

↬ He’d always give you a break when you were tired or when he noticed you were burning out.

↬ Jin would love to run you bubble baths with rose petals, massages (that can sometimes lead to other things), taking you out for your favorite food. He does whatever he can to keep the smile on your face and keep you happy.

↬ Every night, when you’re both going to bed, he’d kiss your ring finger where the ring adorns, reminding himself just how lucky he was to find someone as amazing as you.

kim yoongi 

↬ It’d be a nice, quiet, relaxed life with Yoongi.

↬ The two of you would have your own routines that seem to fit perfectly around each other.

↬ You’d cook him breakfast, always sure to remind him that it’s the most important meal of the day.

↬ You’d also make sure to pack him a lunch box and sneak it in his bag because you knew that he wouldn’t leave the studio or practice to eat a proper meal. You always made sure to slip a few extra for the rest of the boys too.

↬ Most of your nights were spent in his studio while he worked; you either cooking and bringing him food or ordering takeout.

↬ He always stops to eat with you; he thinks the most important thing is eating together and talking about your days at the end of the night; plus, he misses you and feels bad that he works odd hours.

↬ But you’ve never held that against him, your happy that he allows you to watch him over him whilst he works and that he takes your opinions into account when he’s working his magic.

↬ Sleeping is the best with him; you’re both always curled up in each other's arms as he rubs gently circles on your back.

↬ Your marriage may seem boring to the outside eye, but you love the quiet, comfortable life you’ve built with him.

jung hoseok

↬ Prepare yourself for a marriage full of laughter and fun! 

↬ He’s always has the brightest smile on his face, just as bright as the day he saw you walk down the aisle.

↬ He adores coming home and having you jump into his arms or kiss his cheek as a greeting. It’s even better when you’ve found the energy to make you both a nice meal.

↬ He loves taking you out on impromptu activities. Dancing, hikes, arcades, parks, random walks. He loves being around you and spending all the time he can with you.

↬ Fights rarely happen between the two of you, but when they do, he makes it a point for both of you to never go to bed mad at each other; you can be annoyed or upset, but never mad.

↬ Cuddling is his favorite thing to do with you; he constantly has to have his arms around you. When you’re in bed he loves when you’re the little spoon and he can wrap himself around you.

↬ Every night before you sleep he kisses your ring finger that you wear your wedding band on as well as your knuckles. His kiss is a silent promise to always love you and support you, not matter what life decides to throw your way.

↬ Hobi loves to surprise you by coming home early to cook a meal for you and set up a mini at-home spa to help you relax. You always do things for him and while he can’t leave work early often, he loves the look of shock and happiness when he can set this up for you.

↬ Your wedding picture is the first thing anyone sees when they walk through the front door. It’s also his favorite, seeing you adorned in a white gown with your hair all done up. It was the happiest day of his life and now, he gets to live the happiest moments of his life with you by his side.

park jimin

↬ Cuddles, cuddles and more cuddles.

↬ He literally loves to be in your arms or vice versa, have you in his. Always needs to be touching you in some kind of way.

↬ Gets possessive/jealous very easily but tries not to show it. You think it’s cutest thing ever and it makes you feel loved.

↬ Whenever you’re out together, whether it be at the mall, a company party or with the other members, his arm is always wrapped protectively around your waist. He presses small kisses to your temple every now and then; it’s his silent way of telling everyone around you both to back off and that you’re off limits . 

↬ He definitely isn’t the best at cooking, but loves to help you cook in any way he could. That be chopping vegetables together, making sweets. It’s something that you find joy in and he loves spending all his free time with you when he can.

↬ You’re there for him always when his self-confidence gets low. Hyping him up and letting him know just how good of a job he’s doing. He doesn’t say it often, but he loves you even more when you do that for him. He appreciates you being so understanding and attentive to him.

↬ You hear I love you a million times a day from him. When he wakes up, when you’re eating breakfast together, when he leaves for the day. Constantly texts you throughout the day as well reminding you how important you are to him, how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you.

↬ But his favorite I love you is when you’re half asleep, between dreamland and the living world and he whispers I love you quietly. Pulling you close and feeling your warmth on him and you nuzzle into him, whispering a quiet, sleepy I love you back.

kim taehyung 

↬ Will spoil the living shit out of you.

↬ Flowers every day, fancy dinners whenever he can spare the time, jewelry, clothes, shopping sprees, vacations, etc.

↬ His biggest joy in life is seeing the surprised look on your face when he gives you another gift and you smile like a kid on Christmas day.

↬ Loves to buy you designer clothes and makes sure to make events that you can wear them too. Loves to match with you.

↬ Also loves to just see you cocooned up in his clothes on the couch, hair a mess and watching TV or reading a book. Domesticated you was his favorite look.

↬ Made sure to have a house with a good rooftop so he can take you up there every night and watch the sun fall behind the horizon and the stars come out. Telling you how every star he ever wished on brought you to him and him to you.

↬ Absentmindedly runs his fingers over his wedding band when he’s at work and bored. It grounds him and always brings a smile to his face knowing that you have a matching one, both of you belonging to one another and that when he went home, it was to you.

↬ Really enjoys taking you out to karaoke and just watching you let loose. Even though you suck at singing and are tone deaf, he still smiles his signature boxy smile and tells you how beautiful your voice is that even a siren would be jealous.

↬ Favorite thing to do is cuddle you at night and just watch you sleep. He’ll never understand how he got so lucky to have you in his life forever.

↬ Always introduces you as his wife even though everyone in the world is aware of it and it sends butterflies to your stomach.

jeon jungkook

↬ Hope you like playing games and being active because this marriage will consist of all of that.

↬ He loves when you sit between his legs and play games with him while he sits behind you, whilst his arms wrap around you.

↬ Loves going on hikes with you and it’s how he proposed at a beautifully scenic view of Seoul on top of a mountain.

↬ Helps you with the cooking and takes over the cleaning, giving you mundane tasks while he really cleans everything else.

↬ Refuses to let you do the laundry. It’s his favorite thing. Though, he’ll make you fold it, he doesn’t like folding.

↬ Constantly has his hands on you and is generally clingy.

↬ He has a high libido so be ready for sex at any moment and expect that he’s gonna go a few rounds before he’s done.

↬ Is the sweetest and cutest and utterly supportive of anything you choose to do.

↬ Forever grateful that you brought into his life and stuck around through everything.

[angrylizardjacket]

guardian as a title {Machine Gun Kelly}

Summary: Casie's not technically your kid, but as you think about your future with Colson, maybe that won't always be the case.

A/N: 2512 words. I keep seeing fics about having a kid with MGK, but there's a lot of folks who can't have kids or don't want to have kids, but they shouldn't be excluded from having fluffy family fics!! And hes already got a kick ass daughter, so here. Written on my phone so potentially buggy. I just kind of love writing MGK who's so loving and protective of his daughter okay??

----

It took a long time to meet Casie. Colson had been hesitant; if you met his daughter, that meant whatever was going on between the two of you was real, was serious, and he'd been burned too many times to make that step so easily. Of course she knows about you, but she understands her father's hesitation, and the two of you unknowingly share patience, waiting for Colson to feel ready.

So you and he had been dating for almost a full year before you finally meet her. He picks a fancy restaurant for the three of you, and as you're making your way there, you realise you're actually nervous. By now you know where you fit in Colson's life; his friends like you, even his management team likes you, but Casie? You have absolutely no idea how she feels about you, but you know without a shadow of a doubt, that if she ends up not liking you, you can kiss any sort of future with Colson goodbye. To him, Casie hangs the stars in the sky, and he'd choose her every single time, not that you'd ever expect anything different. 

You get to the restaurant first, and the reservation is under his name, so you head on in and nervously start on the ice water they bring to your table. About five minutes later, you hear Colson call your name, and you look up from your phone, eyes wide, and stand abruptly. Casie looks nervous too, all of seven years old in a pair of dark blue jeans and a pretty blouse, and you smile at her as they approach.

"Hi," she's quiet, looking you over and evaluating you, and after a moment you offer your hand. She shakes it, grip surprisingly strong for a seven year old, and she tells you its nice to meet you.

"Its nice to meet you too, I've heard so much about you," you tell her, and she gives a little smile at that. Colson pulls out her chair for her and she thanks him. She's so proper, making a show of putting her napkin in her lap as you pour her a glass of water.

Its awkward at first, of course it is, but then Casie asks what you think of the album Colson's about to release, and the tension breaks. Your enthusiasm for his music goes a long way to reassuring her it seems, and its suddenly much easier to relax into the conversation. 

After dinner, you suggest swinging by McDonalds for milkshakes, and Casie practically cheers. You graciously slide into the back seat before any confusion arises, and when Casie's putting on her seatbelt, Colson looks over his shoulder to you and gives a warm, grateful look. Its going better than he'd hoped.

Its still a little strange; you practically live with Colson, though previously you've been crashing on a friend's sofa whenever Casie's come to visit, so its strange to wake up in his house on a Saturday morning, and find the two of them eating waffles and watching cartoons. It's… endearing. 

Casie's staying for two weeks this time, and on the third day of her stay, Colson's called away for a meeting about his album that was releasing in a few months. He says it'll only be a few hours, but you need to watch Casie. Its easy enough to keep her entertained; after lunch she pulls out her DS, and sits next to you, not really paying attention to the Spongebob rerun on TV.

"What are you playing?" You can't help but be intrigued at the strangely familiar music coming from the device. She turns the screen towards you and you see a little dog panting happily. Nintendogs. A wave of nostalgia hits you. "That game's so old," you say with a gentle smile, but Casie just looks confused. Its turns out to be Nintendogs + Cats, but the premise is still the same. She's surprised that you take such an interest in the game, and is more than excited to show you the tricks her dogs can do, and tells you very matter-of-factly that you can walk the dog to the dog park, so long as she supervises. By the end of the day, the two of you are acting like old friends, and Colson comes home to the pair of you curled up on the sofa trying to decide which dog she should get next in the game. 

She names it after you. Its far more touching than you realised it would be.

For the next few months, whenever she visits, she makes sure to tell you how Y/N The Dog is doing, right up until she gets Animal Crossing: New Leaf and lets Nintendogs fall to the wayside. 

You love her dad, and you take a genuine interest in her, and after several months and a few meetings over coffee, her mom trusts you to look after her when Colson's away doing press for his album and his new tour. Thats all that matters to Casie. 

You start to think the world of her; she's an incredible kid, bright and fun, but strangely sensible at times, and effortlessly cool. You find yourself thinking that if you were ever to have a kid, you'd want them to be like her, though you know children of your own aren't on the cards for your future. You'd known that for a while now, and so did Colson, though neither of you try to dwell on it much. 

Whatever chance Colson takes to support his daughter, you're there too. Recitals, public speaking contests, science fairs; if you're able to be there, you'll be there, making a conscious effort to befriend her mother along the way. Its clear you intend to stick around; you're good for Colson and you're good for Casie, and that's the mpst important thing.

As your year with Colson turns to two, to three, to four, the two of you start to consider what your future together would look like. 

He proposes quietly over dinner at the same restaurant he took you and Casie all those years ago. Of course you say yes. Of course you both FaceTime Casie the next day and she cheers so loudly her mother's dog starts barking in the background. 

"Can I help plan your wedding? Please, please, please?" She begs, and it hits that oh, that's right, a proposal leads to a wedding. You had been so caught up in the moment that the reality hadn't quite hit you. You were going to marry Colson Baker. Your smile widens at the very thought. 

"We'll talk about it when you're next here," Colson tells her with a grin, his hand in yours, fiddling with the engagement ring. Casie is over the moon, and her mother peers into the video chat wearing a warm smile, congratulating you both. 

After the call ends, you're quick to start peppering him with kisses.

"Do I take your last name?" You ask, breathless, straddling him.

"If you want," he shrugs, easy smile on his lips.

"Y/N Baker." There's a kind of awe in your voice as you say it, and Colson reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, and you turn and press a kiss to his palm.

"Y/N Y/L/N-Baker," he suggests softly, and your expression lights up as you lean into to kiss him again, a giggle escaping you.

"I hadn't even considered hyphenating!" You say with delight. 

Casie helped pick the wedding colors, and was quick to start a pinterest board for inspiration, and seemed more excited than ever, bursting with ideas and always eager to help, always asking questions.

"So you're gonna be my step-mom?" She asks, and you make a thoughtful noise in the back of your throat. You're on your phone looking through wedding dresses, and she's playing Breath of the Wild on Colson's Switch, and she pauses the game to look at you. "Do I have to call you that?" She sounds dubious, and you laugh lightly.

"No way," you assure her, "only call me your Step-Mom if I start acting like a Disney villain, okay?"

Casie snorts a laugh and agrees, going back to her game, but something about the interaction sits with you. You keep thinking about it, keeping coming back to it, and you're not quite sure why until the day she breaks her arm trying to skateboard in the driveway. 

Thankfully its Summer and you're home, but Colson's on set filming The Dirt when you hear her start to cry. You get her to the hospital quickly and call Colson, and he says he's on his way. The nurse approaches you, looking at the paperwork you've filled out.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," and that's never a good sign, "we really need a parent or legal guardian here to fill out this paperwork for her."

"I'm going to be her step mother in less than a month-" you tried desperately, giving a crestfallen look to where Casie was being administered pain medication. The nurse gave a deep sigh, and you already know that almost step mother isn't enough, "her dad's going to be here in fifteen minutes." You tell the nurse, and she gives a patient smile, somewhat reassured.

Colson comes in his full Tommy Lee getup, and rushes to wrap Casie up in as much of a hug as he can without hurting her. Its a heartwarming sight, and just having him there eases the rest of Casie's anxieties.

"They wouldn't let a doctor see me because Y/N's not my legal guardian," she whined, a little out of it from the pain medication, "she takes such good care of me; everyone here's a dick," she grumbles, and Colson laughs gently, sitting beside her in the hospital bed, casting you a grateful look. He won't admonish her on her cursing, not here, not now. There's a warm fondness blooming in your chest at her words, a protectiveness that you hadn't realised you'd been harbouring until today.

Casie stays in the emergency department overnight, with you and Colson by her bedside the entire time. You call to inform her mom, who's just glad that you got her to the hospital quickly. The next day, she's released with a cast and pain medication, and is entirely too grumpy for her usually sunny disposition, though she cheers up quickly when you tell her she can have whatever she wants for lunch and dinner.

"I'm gonna have a cast for your wedding!" She bemoans the next day, reading over the instructions the doctor had given you.

"And you're gonna look fantastic regardless," you tell her, but she just throws herself onto the sofa with a huff. Eventually she rolls onto her side and switches on the TV, occupying herself while Colson calls you into the bedroom.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting, looking surprisingly serious. When you enter, he looks up, expression pensive.

"Everything okay?"

"I just hate to see her in pain," he admits with a sigh, but you can tell that's not all that's on his mind. You won't push him, will let him work up to whatever he has to say, and so you just sit on the bed beside him and wrap an arm around him.

"So I've been thinking," he starts, "and Casie's been thinking it too, and we ran it past her mom, because we wanted everyone sort of on board before we brought it to you," and you're not quite sure where he's going, but your heart is in your throat, "and yesterday just made me think we should have talked to you about it sooner -"

"About what?" You ask, voice quiet.

"What do you think about becoming one of Casie's legal guardians?" A bright warmth floods through you at his question, and your at a loss for words, so he continues, "you do take care of her, and you know, you're family, and she adores you, and it means there won't be anymore shit like what happened yesterday at the hospital -"

"She'd sort of be my kid too?" You ask, quietly hopeful, and Colson goes quiet, takes in your smile and realises what he's implying. Slowly, he nods.

"She'd be your kid too."

"And she- you're all okay with this?" 

"Casie and her mom both love you, babe, you've made it clear that you put her safety first; her mom wouldn't have agreed otherwise."

"And Casie… wants this?" 

Colson nods sincerely, pulling you in close to him.

"What do you think? I know its a lot of responsibility -" he starts, but you cut him off, grinning.

"I'd kill for her; honestly I couldn't ask for a better kid," you tell him, and he's trying and failing to suppress and enormous grin.

"She's is gonna roast the shit out of me for taking so long to ask you," he admitted, and you snort a laugh, "I had to talk her down from a proposal of her own, though I will say, she designed a pretty sick banner. Ask her about it, I'm sure she'd love to show you." He chuckles fondly, before growing quiet and contemplative, "I'm so happy about this, babe."

"You should be," you huff out a laugh, but there's a disarming sincerity in his eyes when he looks at you.

"No, I mean it, before I met you, I was always so fucking worried that the girls I met would be put off by me having a kid, or they'd get jealous of the attention I give her, but she's my fucking daughter, man, and I knew if I met someone who loved her even half as much as I love her, I'd have hit the jackpot," he paused, giving you a warm, appreciative look, "and here you are."

"Oh," and you feel tears pricking your eyes, unable to stop smiling at the sentiment, "you're a good fucking dad, you know that?"

"I hope so," he says softly, before his expression brightens, "you wanna go tell her the good news?"

You head down to the living room while Colson collects himself, and you find Cassie drawing on her cast with sharpie. 

"Hey, you mind if I float you an idea?" You ask, sitting beside her. She hands over the sharpie and offers her cast for you to sign.

"Is it about the wedding?"

"Not really," you say airily, avoiding her intrigued gaze, "what would you say to me becoming your legal guardian?"

Casie cheers before you can even finish the question, and before you can finish signing your name, she's wrapping her good arm around you. 

"You're gonna sort of be my kid, is that okay?" You hear yourself asking, and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

"No, I'm cheering and hugging you because I hate the idea," she snickers, sarcasm dripping from her words, but she gives you a sincere smile, "dude, I love you, I'm pumped to be your kid, can you not tell?" 

My kid, you think to yourself with a smile, the best kid I could ever ask for. 

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Music for the Soul

Summary: Soulmate AU where the song your soulmate is thinking of gets stuck in your head. 

This fic is inspired by and gifted to @yellowpaintpots.

Notes:  canonical, this is S2 E6 and a little beyond but it’s not exactly like the show obviously.

AO3

Kurt Hummel was used to not fitting in. At McKinley High, he was often an odd man out. He did partner projects alone, he held his tongue around bullies and had no one to complain to, and most days, he had an entire lunch table to himself. No one sat with the kid in weird, homemade clothes unless there was no other choice. 

What kept him going was music. He had one earbud in as he walked down the halls. Choosing from playlists his mother used to listen to, Broadway soundtracks sung by people still performing on stage today, and to the thrill of his father, rock classics. If Burt Hummel had passed anything onto his son, it was his music tastes and the fantastical idea of soulmates. 

The image of a white knight coming to save him by serenade was one that haunted him before he fell asleep. A boy, which little eleven-year-old Kurt held close to his heart, picked out by the universe meant just for him. Even when he started to find the fantasy a little too cheesy, it kept Kurt going until he found the glee club.

No one could touch him or change him because there was someone out there who would love him exactly the way he was. 

The New Directions were a hot mess when they started, of course. The 5 of them weren’t winning any competitions when they first found themselves in the choir room but they were five misfits who finally had friends. People who understood the passion of music and an adult who shared that same passion and would hopefully guide them to their dream futures. 

Just months later, they became a mixture of a dozen sophomores and freshmen with a Sectionals win under their belt all ready to face the Dalton Academy Warblers in a few weeks. With Regionals looming over them, glee had become much messier than usual. With plenty of in-fighting about solos and song choices, the choir room was always a jumbled, loud mess. That is until Mr. Schue came up with the idea for a school musical. It was taking their minds off of Regionals for the time being.

Kurt was all too happy to be auditioning for a role instead of sitting in the back row wishing he had a shot at a solo. His voice was too unique for Ohio. But someday, he knew, it would get him to Broadway. He held that thought close to his heart while tuning out Rachel’s insistence bickering.  

Yesterday, Mr. Schue had decided their school musical was going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Kurt loved cult classics as much as the next person but he wasn’t sure how Mr. Schue had gotten this approved by Figgins. It seemed too risqué for high schoolers. 

He only hoped whoever his soulmate was enjoying the soundtrack he had stuck in his head this week. 

Kurt planned on auditioning for Riff Raff. Already putting mental outfits from his closet to wear. The wound of Mr. Schue assuming he’d play Frank N. Furter based solely on the fact that he was gay was still fresh but his audition was going to blow everyone away. 

He had chosen “Dammit Janet” for his audition despite it being a Brad and Janet duet. Quinn, who was hoping for Magenta, was going to be his partner. They had joked about the main roles already being off the table before auditions; it was clear Mr. Schue had chosen Finn and Rachel for the leads. It was hard to be upset when Quinn had instantly offered to do a joint audition with him. Their voices went so well together and Kurt liked spending time with her. 

Ever since Kurt and Mercedes had their stint as Cheerios, they had gotten closer. The three of them even had a weekend sleepover this past Saturday. Mercedes had dumped the Cheerios but Kurt stayed on and Quinn had just gotten back on the squad after her dismissal last year. Coach Sue had them sing during practice last week and Quinn was waiting for him after their showers with the suggestion of a double audition song. 

They had been having rehearsals in the auditorium during their shared free period and twice after glee club on days when it wasn’t already reserved. As the day came closer, Quinn offered her house to practice in since her parents were rarely home and so Finn wouldn’t become Rachel's spy. Though, Kurt assured her Finn was much too engrossed in video games to bother with their rehearsals. 

Since they increased their run-throughs, Kurt’s had one song in his head all morning. In case the lyrics weren’t already ingrained into his head, he had his own little concert in his head. Just after lunch, that changed. A mere 3 hours until his audition after school his soulmate’s music had taken root. As much as Kurt was willing to bow down to the queens of pop, what he wouldn’t give for 5 minutes of something other than Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream”. This bubble gum pop song had gone from ‘oh, that’s a good song to scream in the car’ to ‘if I hear it one more time, I’ll rip my ears off’ fairly quickly. 

It hadn’t helped that his brain went from one song on repeat to another. 

As he sits in geometry, he tries to hear Mr. Finnegan’s explanation of arcs but his brain has other plans. 

Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans. 

Kurt knows it’s just a song but the image is so clear in his head. 

Smooth, soft skin. Obviously, someone who used lotions regularly, Kurt expected nothing less from his soulmate. Neatly trimmed fingernails so they wouldn’t catch on Kurt’s pants when fingers trailed up to cup his knee. The grip would be teasingly light. He never let his fantasies get too far. Especially outside the privacy of his bedroom. In all honesty, even when he was alone in his bed at night envisioning the same kind of scenario, Kurt didn’t really know what came next. He wasn’t even sure what kissing really entailed. 

What if his soulmate is ready for...certain things...Kurt’s not even to verbalize yet. What if he’s imagining their first meeting very differently then Kurt, who’s hopeful they’ll have coffee or a meal together before they do anything besides maybe hand-holding. The touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets, unless you ask Katy Perry it seems. 

He spends the rest of math wondering what the boy with Katy Perry in his head must look like. Kurt wonders if his soulmate wears bright colors like his idol or maybe Katy is a secret shame that he’ll only share with Kurt. 

…

Blaine liked fitting in. He enjoyed the uniform for many reasons. One, he thought the blazer looked stylish. It was also nice knowing what you had to wear every day, one less thing to worry about people judging you for. Plenty of people at his old school picked on him for his bow ties but at Dalton, everyone had neckwear. The standard blue and red striped tie. He liked how neat it was; there was a certain way to wear said uniform. 

Everyone was the same here. No typical hierarchy of jocks and cheerleaders. Only the Warblers stood out simply because everyone knew them. 

How could you forget a group of boys singing acapella at all hours of the day?

 Blaine might joke that they’re teenage rockstars but really they are just a group of talented guys who liked to sing. 

The Warblers were the first real friends he ever had. 

When he was still attending public school he held tightly to the idea of his soulmate since it seemed hopeless to wish for friendship. Not when he was being harassed for a sexuality he wasn’t sure of yet and being pushed to the ground in the parking lot for it. 

But a soulmate was a guarantee. Everyone had one. By the time Blaine reached eighth grade, he knew. All of those middle school bullies had used words Blaine didn’t quite understand until that moment. 

He was surrounded in the parking lot after school having missed his bus because someone had stuck gum in his curls during last period. That was the day Blaine started to seriously consider investing in some gel. Maybe that would prevent some bullying. Anyway, he was surrounded, being literally kicked around by a group of soccer players and friends. 

Other students had gathered to watch the so-called fight but Blaine thought their chants would only grab the attention of a teacher or so he hoped. No one came quickly. He had enough injuries by the end for his mom to insist on a trip to the ER. A big black eye and sprained his wrist along with plenty of bruising on his limbs. 

But he honestly didn’t remember getting hurt beyond the initial pushing to the ground. When the bullying got bad like this he pulled out those daydreams. This time around it wasn’t this blurry image of hand holding, there was a boy. Blaine hadn’t seen his face but his voice was soft and comforting, inviting Blaine in. There was an outstretched hand just out of reach for Blaine to take. Blaine knew then. His soulmate was a boy. 

When everything was over and he was being released by the doctor, all he knew was there was some boy built perfectly for Blaine just waiting to be found. Waiting for him. 

He hadn’t even been upset by his injuries because he was sitting with these thoughts of ‘how do I come out to my parents?’ 

Instead of deciding that day, he kept those daydreams close to his heart for the next year and a half. Until the issue of high school came out and Blaine didn’t want to go back to public school. To his surprise, both of his parents took it well. They were more concerned for his safety than his sexuality. Together, they decided on Dalton. A private school with a zero tolerance policy for bullies. That was that. 

He still had his doubts at Dalton. Was he really good enough to be a lead soloist let alone go onto Broadway someday? Could he make it out of Ohio? In those moments, Blaine still came back to his soulmate. Someone, no matter what came, Blaine would have by his side. 

When he imagined his soulmate, Blaine could never truly figure out what he’d look like. All he saw was that outstretched hand. Usually, people could draw up a picture in their heads based on the music they heard. 

For Blaine, the genre of music didn’t help. His soulmate was clearly someone with mixed taste. 

Today’s selection was...a musical. Blaine wasn’t familiar with the characters Brad and Janet but he had looked it up at lunch. Some kind of cult classic people went to see in the weeks leading up to Halloween. It was October so it made sense for the soundtrack to be stuck in his soulmate’s head. Blaine wondered if he had gone to see it, wondered who he saw it with. 

The Warblers thought he was crazy. Imagining that his soulmate was off with some other person. It was rare to date seriously before meeting a soulmate but Blaine always told them the same story of his parents. Both of them had been in very serious relationships before they met. Hell, his mother had been engaged. Neither of them thought they’d meet their soulmate, which was also fairly rare but had happened.  

When they met, they didn’t drop everything to be together. The wedding was put on hold but his father hadn’t broken up with his girlfriend right away. His parents wanted to be together only if they agreed with the universe’s choice. 

Blaine knew his dad had been wary of his mother’s music taste. Pam had been deep into her metal phrase in her early twenties. His dad, Robert, was not a fan. He loved classical music. Forever dooming Pam to hum music without lyrics meanwhile Robert was cursed with “nonsense yelling” as he called it. Lucky, both of their music tastes had shifted over the years to have more overlap. Though, Blaine and Cooper had been subjected to dinners with a mixtape of Def Leppard and Bach. 

They got together in the end, which was the important part, but what if they hadn’t chosen each other? What if Blaine’s soulmate was deeply in love with someone else and he’d spend the rest of his days loveless and alone?

When he voiced these thoughts aloud, his friends usually told him what a downer he could be, which tended to shake those fears away. If his parents, different as they were, still fell in love it would happen to him too. It was just a matter of when. 

…

The next day at lunch, Mercedes was fretting over her soulmate. 

“What if he’s super young, Kurt?” 

“What makes you think that?” He asked, stabbing his salad. 

“He’s got The Backyardigans theme song in his head again,” she sighed. “He got to be like 7. I’m just not comfortable with that.” 

“It’s an age gap for sure,” Kurt agreed, but he’s fairly sure Sam Evans was singing that song after PE today, “or maybe he just has younger siblings. Don’t let your only-childness cloud your judgment.”

She hummed in agreement and pushed her tater tots around. 

It was sort of a hard way to figure out your soulmate unless they were obvious about what music they had playing in their heads.

Some people, like Mr. Schue, we’re pretty obvious. He had been singing in the auditorium when Ms. Pillsbury found him. It was a pretty clear-cut match. As far as Mercedes was concerned, Kurt is sure she’ll overhear Sam’s humming soon enough. 

He doesn’t want to spoil anything for his best friend nor does he want to be wrong. Soulmate meetings only come once in a lifetime. 

Well, the first soulmate meeting that is. 

There are plenty of people, like his dad, who lose a soulmate too soon and are gifted another one later in life. Kurt was so happy when he introduced Burt and Carole at parent-teacher conferences. They had just been listening to the Wicked soundtrack in the car ride over and Carole Hudson did not strike Kurt as the type of person who knew “I’m Not That Girl” by heart. 

“Are you nervous about auditions?” Mercedes asked. “The list goes up today after glee.” 

“Not at all like,” he shrugged, “I think Quinn and I did well.” 

“Oh no, Kurt, we crushed it,” Quinn said, sitting down with her lunch. 

He smiled at her. Quinn went on to compliment Mercedes on her audition, having heard part of it from outside the audition. She would’ve been inside with Kurt to watch but Coach Sue wanted to meet with her head Cheerio about their upcoming competition. From what Quinn had told them via text, Sue was going all out at practice today. 

“She doesn’t want us to be late,” Quinn said. “That list better be up right away.” 

“We should change before glee,” Kurt suggested. 

“Good idea.” 

Once Quinn had sat down the rest of the New Directions filed in. With interlocking pinkies, Santana and Brittany wandered over taking the last two seats available. 

“Cheerios practice is gonna be hell, hope you’re up for the challenge Hummel,” Santana said. 

He shot her a short glare. 

“Kurt always understands the assignment, Santana,” Quinn quipped back. 

Brittany nodded in agreement smiling at Kurt from across the table. She gave him a small wave half hidden by her lunch tray. In return, Kurt waved back just as shyly. 

They had an interesting friendship. Kurt had kissed Brittany before. He was sure it hadn’t phrased Brittany as it had him. After all, she had kissed almost every boy in school. Some kind of record, he thought. 

They sort of dated for like a week when Kurt was trying to convince himself he was straight. When he firmly realized he was kidding no one, not even himself, they broke up. Since then, he and Brittany had remained close. They were both Cheerios and in the glee club, it made sense. 

He was happy to have Brittany in his life, even if that meant Santana by extension came with her. Santana was fine outside of the public eye. If the Unholy Trinity incited Kurt to their sleepovers, Santana was a different person. She put up a front at McKinley, extremely similar to the one Kurt attempted when he dated Brittany. 

Few are privy to why she did this, Quinn and Kurt knew and he was fairly certain Mercedes did as well. She was very perceptive that way. Brittany was Santana’s soulmate. It explained so much about their relationship. Always in sync, completing each other perfectly, a literal better half.

Honestly, it gave Kurt so much hope that everyone’s soulmate was like that. A missing puzzle piece. 

He really hoped his soulmate listened to more than just Teenage Dream because the lyrics were slowly creeping into his everyday language. 

Usually, Kurt found himself hyper-focused in glee club. He got an energy boost just from walking into the choir room. Like a light switch turning on. His focus wasn’t always on whatever lecture Mr. Schue was pursuing, sometimes he watched his fellow glee clubbers (catching himself up on drama just by sideways glances), or mentally mapping out his next performance. 

Today, Kurt wasn’t able to do any of those things. With the soundtrack of Teenage Dream (again) in his head, all he was thinking about was the center of a bulletin board with the cast list for The Rocky Horror Show on it. How far down the list was Riff Raff? How many names came before his?

Someone was snapping in front of his face. Kurt shook himself from his daydream to find Mercedes.

“Boy, wake up!” She said, “cast list is about to go up.” 

Either glee club had gotten shorter or Mr. Schue was putting it up early. 

…

Blaine didn’t really understand why the Warblers were concerned. Doing an improv performance was not new to them. In fact, Blaine had done three already this school year and he was only a freshman. 

The first one he did had been way back in September, he hadn’t even been an official Warbler yet. Warbler Tradition said: all potential freshman recruits were required to perform again after their auditions with the whole group. It was a solid way to see if they fit in well with the other established Warblers. Blaine fondly remembers vibing along with the older Warblers and fellow potentials to a medley of Pink songs. None of the freshmen had solos but it was still a fun time. 

At the time it seemed like all of Dalton fit into the choir room and surrounding hallways but in reality it was the entire freshman class. Improv performances weren’t something any middle schooler had seen before but the upperclassmen of Dalton knew the Warblers had plenty of improvs to come for the rest of the school year. The first one was special. Just for the newbies. 

Three days after that performance, Blaine had gotten word that he was to be a new Warbler and two months after that he was granted his first solo. Now, he was slowly becoming their go-to soloist for almost every performance for an audience. Blaine had become a vital part of all rehearsals for the most part. He was honored by their commitment to him honestly and he loved to sing however, a week and half of preparations was a tad excessive. Still, he walked his way to rehearsal positive that the council would have at least five points to discuss before they actually started singing. 

He walked into the choir room shaking his shake fondly and smiling at the Warblers already present. 

The council were always first to arrive. Together. Then it was a mixed bag of who followed. Usually Trent was there, punctual as always, and Blaine took the seat between Trent and Jeff. 

The room was mostly full already. 

Nick came in shortly after Blaine and sat across from him immediately asking if there had been a pop quiz in Stanton’s class earlier and was rather relieved to find out Jeremy was a filthy liar, who liked to start trouble. Before Jeremy could get on Blaine’s case about being overly sincere, the meeting began. 

Wes banged his gavel and welcomed everyone before gesturing for David to read off last meeting’s notes. Once the talking portion of the meeting was over, they pushed the furniture aside to make room. 

...

A week later Kurt was happy to have one musical under his belt but thankful the performance run had been short. If you thought the New Directions were dramatic during competition weeks, it was nothing compared to their musical rehearsals. 

Now, Mr. Schue was having the brilliant idea to host a boys vs girls competition. Of course, Kurt hadn’t wanted to work with the boys. They were sure to exclude his musical talents and he doubted he could get them to agree to any of his costume suggestions. 

This was hardly a challenge. It was bland and they had done it already. 

Kurt was sitting in the back of the choir room pouting. Yes, pouting. Full on arms crossed, head down, and bottom lip puffed out. Until, Mr. Schue had an actual brilliant idea, Kurt’s suggestion of course, to spice things up. 

The boys did not appreciate Kurt’s six hours of work putting two posters together. Even with the assignment to bring more feminine qualities into their performance, the boys ignored his input. So, when Puckerman suggested Kurt spy on the Warblers, he was thankful for a reason to leave. He packed up his projects and headed home to change.

When Mr. Schue found out who their competition was, Rachel and Kurt did some googling. He had seen the all-boys school uniform and was fairly sure he could replicate it with clothes he already had. 

He pulled some looks from his closet. Once satisfied he looked up directions to Westerville. 

Dalton was huge. It looked like a museum. How on earth was Kurt going to find their choir room? He hoped there were signs inside or a map. 

As he walked down a spiral staircase much too pretty to be in a school, he decided to just ask for directions. He was going to get lost if he kept walking without help. 

When the boy he stopped turned around, all Kurt could think was ‘I’d love to put my hands all over you.’ Which was a ridiculous thought to have because he didn’t know this boy and where had that even come from? Oh right, Teenage Dream was still playing in his head. Thanks, Katy. 

If only his soulmate knew he was using this song to fantasize about running off into the sunset with another boy. 

…

Blaine loved being in the spotlight. Wes would say it was because he didn’t get that kind of attention from his parents but that simply wasn’t true. Well, unless Cooper was around; he always pulled focus when it came to their parents. Older sibling privilege, he assumed. 

But he was running late. He stayed behind in class to ask a question which turned into his teacher rambling. Didn’t he know the Warblers had a performance today in the senior commons and Blaine was their lead singer? 

He was checking the time when someone stopped him on the stairs. 

A beautiful boy. Unlike anyone Blaine had ever seen before. He almost missed his name because he was caught up in memorizing his face. 

There was something said about being new, which Blaine doubted since he wasn’t in uniform, and Blaine mentioned a shortcut he knew of. 

It wasn’t really a shortcut. More like the long way to the Senior Commons but less crowded. Everyone was making their way to the Warblers and Blaine wanted as much time alone with Kurt as he could get. 

He wanted Kurt’s full attention. It was no wonder he instantly wanted to show off. Teenage Dream fit his vocals perfectly and Kurt was an excellent audience. In fact, Blaine was set on serenading him. 

He had no way of knowing that exact song had been playing all day long in Kurt Hummel’s mind. 

Afterward, Blaine lost himself in a group hug from the Warblers but Kurt’s beaming smile caught his eye. He pulled Wes and David aside, confirming his own suspicions that Kurt was spying on them first before convincing them to invite Kurt for coffee. 

The four boys sat at a table. Kurt seemed very nervous now. Blaine wasn’t sure if it was because he had been caught or something else was going on. In the end, Blaine thought it best for just him and Kurt to have a conversation. Not at all because he wanted alone time with him. 

This clearly wasn’t the time or place for romance. 

Once they were alone the whole tale seemed to flow out of Kurt: the name calling, locker shoving, his biggest bully. Blaine could relate. 

Sometimes he felt phantom pains in his right leg from Sadie Hawkins. At first, Kurt scoffed when Blaine began sympathizing. If he were Kurt, he might not believe himself. 

Private schoolboy bullied? Blaine sure didn’t look like someone who lacked friends. It was fairly common knowledge that Dalton had a zero tolerance policy for harassment. So, he explained. As brief as he could about his own experience with public school bullies. 

Kurt and he seemed to have more in common than a love for music. 

He doesn't have any plans to see Kurt again though Blaine has plenty of ideas on how they could get together. Coffee at the Lima Bean. Old musicals were playing at the revival theater. Maybe another high school was putting on a play this weekend. All Blaine needed was a good enough message to ask Kurt out. He drafted plenty but none sent. 

After school, Blaine knew Kurt might need an extra push. He was pretty sure classes at McKinley were done for the day. 

He sent a single word. Less second-guessing that way. 

Courage. 

Then, he walked to the library to start writing an essay on Lord of the Flies for English. 

However, he found himself unable to concentrate. Usually after a performance, Blaine had the song stuck in his head for at least a day or two afterward. In addition to humming in the weeks of rehearsals, of course. Instead, Blaine found himself thinking about Start Me Up by the Rolling Stones and oddly Livin’ On a Prayer. Both songs he thought better suited his father or Cooper’s tastes. It was a mashup of the two songs like his soulmate was hearing them simultaneously. 

When he started thinking about his soulmate, there was a clear picture of someone. It didn’t take long for Blaine to bring up those blue eyes and the soft complexion of Kurt Hummel. Which was crazy thinking. He had no idea if Kurt was his soulmate. 

Soulmates tended to be around the same age but just because Kurt was also in high school meant nothing. By that logic anyone at Dalton could be his soulmate too. 

During his brief time with Kurt this week, Blaine heard no music from his mouth. In fact, Blaine had done all the singing. Even with half his brain saying he was nuts to think Kurt was his forever, Blaine couldn’t let the thought go. 

…

Blaine’s text comes in in the midst of the girls’ performance. A wonderful mashup and excellent costumes. Tina had texted Kurt about the leather jacket idea early this week. He was very proud of how they managed to pull the looks together in such a short time. It was impressive. 

Altogether, Kurt was feeling great. The boys had their rehearsal, apparently their performance was turning into an apology. Kurt wasn’t sure what they had done to Coach Beiste but apparently, she was quitting. He and Blaine were texting periodically now. No one knew it but Kurt was surely developing a huge crush on the Warbler boy. 

Then, he confronted Karofsky. He didn’t want to feel the same regret Blaine did—no one messes with the Hummels. 

It seemed like mere hours but in reality, it was days, Kurt was enrolled at Dalton and saying goodbye to the New Directions. 

He was full on having a Vanessa leaving Troy moment here. Kurt Hummel has got to go his own way. 

God was he nervous to start at a new school. In the middle of the school year too. Being the new kid was going to be hard but not as difficult as staying at McKinley would be. 

When Kurt was greeted by Blaine’s smile outside the office on his first day, it made Kurt relax. At least he already had a friend here. 

It isn’t until they’re walking down the hall together—Blaine insisted on escorting Kurt to his first class—that Kurt noticed Blaine was humming.

“Is that High School Musical?” Kurt asked. 

“Oh, um, technically it’s the sequel.” 

“What about us…” Blaine sang, “what about everything we’ve been through?” 

“What about trust…you know I’ve never wanted to hurt you?” 

Blaine chucked. “Cheesy but true. Such a good movie.” 

“We should watch it sometime,” Kurt suggested. 

Instantly, he wanted to take it back. He’s been told he can come on too strong. Especially around cute boys. 

“I’d love too!” Blaine said. “I have it on DVD.” 

Kurt doesn’t see Blaine again until their one shared class of the day right before lunch. He sits across the room from Blaine during history but next to him at the Warbler’s lunch table. 

Most of the group has the same lunch so Kurt is introduced to them before his audition later this afternoon. 

“Nervous?” Wes asked, “you shouldn’t be.” 

“Yeah, from what Blaine's told us you're a great singer,” Trent added. 

“He’s barely heard me sing,” Kurt replied, poking Blaine’s arm. 

He only sang one line of a song to the other boy today. 

“Well…” Blaine rubs his neck abashedly. “I might’ve watched some New Directions videos on YouTube.” 

“Oh, I forgot Rachel uploaded those.” Kurt tunes to the other Warblers then, “I hope I don’t disappoint.” 

After lunch, Blaine walks Kurt to class again. “Between you and me, you’re a shoo-in.” 

“Really?” The Warblers were such an esteemed group. Not at all like the disorganized New Directions. They had also been a glee club for far longer. 

“Really.” 

***

Blaine has had High School Musical songs in his head all day. Whoever his soulmate is, at least he’s got good taste in Disney Channel original movies. Then as the Warblers were preparing for Kurt’s audition, the song switched. An Evita song. 

His soulmate sure did love musicals. Blaine was rather happy about that. He could already picture them sitting on the couch cuddled under a fluffy blanket with any number of classic musicals laid out before them. Arguing over if it was too soon to rewatch Moulin Rouge and whose turn it was to make popcorn. 

They’d be in a big city apartment. Somewhere where no one cared if they were gay. All anyone wanted to know was how they discovered they were soulmates. Their origin story. 

From that point, the daydream grew fuzzy. Blaine couldn’t come up with that meet-cute story. It hadn’t happened yet and nothing his brain could come up with would ever match up with his future reality. 

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the choir room. 

The room was buzzing with excitement. It wasn’t every day the Warblers auditioned someone mid-semester. Of course, Kurt had special circumstances but the group was notorious for never breaking tradition. 

Blaine tried to focus but it was difficult without Kurt at his side. Lately, he had been distracted whenever Kurt wasn’t around. All Blaine could hear, despite the loud room, was the song in his head. 

I had to let it happen

I had to change

Then, Kurt walked in and music started to play. For a split second, Blaine thought he was imagining the words from “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” coming from Kurt’s lips. Surely he hadn’t chosen the same song as Blaine’s soulmate had in their head. He knew it couldn’t be his imagination when Trent leaned over and whispered to Blaine how much he loved this song. 

Like lightning striking a tree, Blaine had a realization. Kurt Hummel was his soulmate. 

Oh god, what was he going to do? 

His skin was burning as if it was burned away like bark. He drooped in his seat desperate for water to put himself out with. To put a stop to the tingling sensation bubbling up under his skin. 

All he wanted to do was reach out and touch Kurt. Some part of his brain was able to override that thought. He couldn’t ruin this audition for him. There was plenty of time to spend with Kurt after this, Blaine had all the time in the world to talk with his soulmate.

Soulmate.  

Never did he think he would find his soulmate this soon. Gosh, they were only teenagers. They had so much life to live together. This was rare, special, to find your soulmate so quickly in life. Blaine would cherish it, he’d be thankful for this gift for rest of his days. 

But how in the hell was he going to tell Kurt? It had to be romantic. Blaine always thought it would be when he finally came face to face with his soulmate, his one true love. There was so much work to be done and so little time to do it. Now that Blaine knew, he didn’t want to spend another day without Kurt knowing too. 

He used to dream about running dramatically in slow motion towards each other and embracing just as it started to rain, which of course led to a fabulous first kiss in the sudden storm. But Blaine knew how unlikely that would be. 

He’d just have to build a new fantasy, which he thought would be easy to do if Kurt was his so-called Prince Charming. Whatever happened was going to outweigh everything his imagination had come up with thus far. 

First and foremost, he’d had to sit through a discussion of this audition, which he was barely able to pay attention to. All he wanted to do was walk up to Kurt, cup his face, and kiss him. After Kurt was finished, the council dismissed him. Blaine knew he’d find Kurt just outside the choir room because they had plans afterward but now he had no idea how he was going to sit through coffee with Kurt and not tell him. 

“He’s very good,” Trent said, nudging Blaine. 

He nodded in agreement. It seems most of the group concurred, Kurt was a good fit for them. 

Kurt Hummel was the perfect fit for Blaine too. Even if he didn’t know it yet. 

***

Kurt didn’t consider himself to be a good reader of social cues especially when his own emotions were involved. See, Finn Hudson and Sam Evans. Crushes on straight boys never ended well. With Blaine, he swore things would be different. 

They were friends, classmates, and hopefully, soon they’d be fellow Warblers. Kurt was not going to mess this up. Even if Blaine was really cute and friendly and super kind and understanding. There was so much to love about Blaine, Kurt found it hard to find something he didn’t like. 

He had found focusing on his dislikes of a person kept his feelings at bay. Like how messy Finn could be really shut down any romance fantasy Kurt had drawn up. Except, Blaine didn’t dye his hair like Sam, he was completely organized (Kurt had seen his dorm room; spotless), he was modest and genuine. 

It made sense that everyone at Dalton wanted some of his attention. Blaine embodied Kurt’s idea of a gentleman and then some. 

After his audition, Kurt sat outside the choir room waiting for his results. The council would discuss with the full group, release them, and regroup tomorrow with a vote. Kurt was waiting for Blaine to be dismissed because Blaine had promised to buy him a cup of coffee. 

Some of the Warblers who were leaving had some pretty nice things to say about Kurt’s performance. Just general praise which soothes some of his initial nerves. Mostly, he just wanted Blaine to walk out with a big smile on his face. That boy couldn’t keep a secret. Kurt would know if he was in or not just by looking at his face. 

Kurt was joined on his bench by a boy who introduced himself as Duncan. 

“I was super nervous after my audition. I just got in at the beginning of this year so I know what you’re going through.” 

Kurt felt his shoulders drop in relief. As much as Blaine tried to assure him the audition would be perfect, Kurt felt like he couldn’t relate much as the star of the glee club. Back at McKinley, Kurt rarely had center stage. Here, Blaine always had everyone’s attention. 

“That’s actually great to hear,” Kurt said, with a slight chuckle. 

“Seriously, Kurt, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m a little concerned they’ll kick me out just to have your voice,” Duncan teased. 

They keep talking about what it’s like to be a new Warbler since Duncan is positive Kurt will be getting good news shortly. He offers up some pointers to get on the council’s good side. 

“I loved your song choice by the way, so weird because Evita had been in my head all day.” 

It feels like someone’s dropped an ice cube down his back. He sits up quickly. 

Oh, Kurt thought, is this it? 

“You did?” He must’ve heard wrong. There’s just no way. 

“Yeah, I love that musical,” Duncan confirmed. 

Could it be this easy? He wondered. 

“We should hang out again soon,” Duncan told him, “I’d love to get to know you. Newbie Warblers gotta stick together.” 

Kurt gives Duncan his number before the other boy wanders off. Before Kurt can get too deep into any fantasies of his soulmate, wondering if that soulmate has just left him or not, Blaine comes out from the choir room. 

“Hey you,” Blaine greeted with a big smile. 

“Are you allowed to give me any inclination?” 

He shook his head but was still smiling wide which made Kurt feel like good news was in his near future like Duncan had said. Kurt was telling Blaine how long he had practiced the song over the weekend with Rachel and Duncan reassurances when Blaine blurted, “Duncan Samuels?” 

“Yeah, we just met.” 

Should he tell Blaine about them being soulmates or wait until he was sure? 

But Blaine just nodded. Something was clearly bothering his friend. For now, Kurt was going to let it go because he was sure Blaine would come to him if he wanted to talk. He didn’t want to force it out of Blaine. 

Kurt couldn’t even get Finn to talk to him during their warm milk chats at night. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull the information out of Blaine if he tried.

“Anyway,” Kurt said, continuing his previous line of thought, “Rachel has this whole stage setup in her dads’ basement.” 

“I don’t find that hard to believe based on everything you’ve told me about her.” 

After that comment, their coffee date is back on track, Kurt doesn’t bring up his potential soulmate meeting. 

***

Duncan Samuels was his lifelong nemesis. As far as Blaine was considered his life began when he figured out Kurt was his soulmate and if Duncan was going to interfere with that they were now enemies. Since their coffee date yesterday, Blaine hasn’t heard a word about Duncan but he also had yet to see Kurt today. They only had one class together after lunch, which Blaine was on his way to now. 

Kurt saved him a seat and delivered the news. 

“Duncan and I are going for coffee today.” 

Those words were devastating. 

In normal circumstances, Blaine would’ve asked Kurt why he wasn’t going to rehearsal but of course Kurt wasn’t a Warbler…yet. Blaine knew the Warblers were going to announce Kurt’s membership at the end of day, which meant this was the last rehearsal Kurt wouldn’t attend. 

So instead of a calmly said, normal statement, Blaine spent the next minute freaking out. 

Duncan was the worst! He was going to steal Kurt away from him before Blaine ever got the chance. Well okay, the rational side of him thought, Kurt isn’t being stolen he’s going willingly. 

“That’s nice,” he finally said. 

There was no way for Blaine to stop Kurt and honestly no reason to try since Duncan posed no threat to Kurt. He didn’t need a protector. Blaine knew they were soulmates and he’d find a way to tell Kurt later on. At the end of it all, Kurt was his soulmate. He just knew it. 

“Are you free when I get out of rehearsal?” 

“For you?” Kurt asked, “of course, I’ll probably still be in the cafe.” 

“I’ll come find you,” Blaine told him. 

Still, all throughout Warbler rehearsal, Blaine’s attention was elsewhere. He needed to get out of here and meet up with Kurt. Wes knew it too because he pulled him aside at one point while David ushered the guys into a new arrangement.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, “I need you focused for competition.” 

“I will be,” he vowed. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Blaine looked back at the other boys but they were already harmonizing. 

“It’s Kurt.” 

Wes smiled. “Don’t worry about him. He’s in, I can’t believe we have a countertenor on our team now. We’re going to wipe the floor at regionals.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Wesley. McKinley already knows what a talent Kurt is, he won’t be a surprise to them,” Blaine reminded him. 

“Ah, but they didn’t utilize his talent,” Wes said, “it’ll shock them to see Kurt in the spotlight.” 

Wes patted Blaine’s back and guided him back to the group to finish up rehearsal. 

Blaine couldn’t help but check his phone again before he tuned back into rehearsal. He knew Kurt was getting coffee and that’s why he wasn’t answering his phone. 

One of the best things about Kurt was when you were with him everything else was put aside. Blaine was sure if things got really serious, Kurt would shut his phone off entirely to prove a point. Right now, it was annoying as hell. Blaine needed to see a reassuring text that Kurt wasn’t running off into the sunset with Duncan Samuels. 

What if his phone was turned off because the two of them were standing at the altar? Everyone turns their phones off in church. 

He really really needed to talk to him. Blaine didn’t want to be the type of soulmate that holds onto that information too long. It’s like he’s lying to himself not being with Kurt. 

Once rehearsal was finally over, Blaine rushed over to the on-campus cafe where he knew Kurt would be. He had to be there. 

When Blaine pushed his way through the door, he saw Kurt was sitting alone nursing what looked to be a cup of tea. When Blaine approached him he could tell it was Chamomile. 

“Can I sit?” 

Kurt nodded but didn’t say a word as Blaine hung his bag across the back of the chair and removed his blazer. 

He expected a question about the Warblers, perhaps an inquiry about his status to become one but nothing came. Kurt wasn’t even drinking his tea. 

“What’s wrong? Did Duncan say something to upset you?”

“I’m fine, Blaine,” Kurt said, “Duncan didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me as usual.” 

Blaine didn’t understand. 

“Am I that unlovable?” 

“What?” 

Kurt was the most kind, sincere person he knew and Blaine had only met him a few weeks ago. He was most certainly lovable considering Blaine fell for him in just under 3 weeks 

“I can’t really blame him,” Kurt continued, “it’s not his fault we aren’t soulmates.” 

“You thought he was your soulmate?” 

Maybe telling Kurt wouldn’t be too difficult after all. 

“It’s just he made this comment yesterday that made me think…but of course I got too ahead of myself again and really I should know by now,” Kurt mumbled the last bit, “nothing ever goes to plan.” 

“You can say that again.” 

This cafe wasn’t a romantic candlelit dinner. He didn’t have rose petals to scatter around. There was no champagne to toast. But he had the most important thing. 

Blaine reached across the table to grab Kurt’s hand. “Think of a song.” 

“Why?” 

“Just do it,” Blaine said. 

Kurt’s face was scrunched up in a “I’m confused but I’ll trust you” kind of way. 

As soon as the song hit him, Blaine opened his mouth to sing, “this could be the start of something new…it feels so right to be here with you.”

“How did you—?” 

Blaine smiled at him. “Pick another song.” 

“Your cares and troubles are gone. They'll be no more from now on.”

His mouth opens slightly. 

“Your turn,” Blaine said, “ I want you to sing what comes to mind.” 

Wasn’t the best way to prove they were soulmates to test each other? 

Blaine wanted Kurt to have his own moment of realization even if he engineered it. He didn’t want their “how-did-you-know” story to be him informing Kurt about their connection. Instead, he wanted to tell people about listening to Kurt’s Warbler audition and thinking how odd it was to know the song he was going to sing before it began. Kurt’s story would start with a laugh because he imagined someone other than Blaine as his soulmate the very same day. 

And wasn’t that just so silly of him? 

Rather than have Kurt just sing to him, Blaine harmonized with him. This was the proof. He’d sing everything Kurt could come up with and vice versa. 

“But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said. “We’re….”

He nodded. 

Before Blaine even realized it, Kurt was out of his seat leaning towards him, they’re kissing. Kurt’s fingers are curved around his chin and his other hand is tickling the curls at the back of his neck. The tiny wisps of hair that always escape the gel by the late afternoon. 

Blaine would happily keep his curls loose if it meant Kurt would keep his hands in his hair always. Especially, if it meant they’d never stop kissing. 

Eventually, Kurt has to pull away. They’re still close enough to feel each other’s breath. 

“Soulmates,” Blaine whispered. 

It had been quiet while they kissed like everything else in the world just stopped. All the sounds of Dalton came rushing back all at once. The students in the halls, coffee orders being called out, and the shuffling of chairs as people came and went. 

“When did you know?” Kurt asked, sitting down again. 

Blaine pulled his seat around so they were closer and Kurt immediately reached for his hand. 

***

3 months later. 

Blaine hadn’t been upset to lose to McKinley at Regionals. How could he have been when he got to sing with his soulmate in front of a crowd? Their duet was so in sync and the crowd could tell. He doesn’t think he ever received such a loud applause. 

Blaine had wanted to just be in that moment forever—staring into Kurt’s eyes hearing the words in his head just before they were said aloud, gripping his hand before pushing him into the spotlight to soak up the audience’s love. 

No, Blaine was happy about Regionals. The Warblers had worked hard on the set; their second place trophy sat on the right corner of the council’s table at meetings now. What Blaine was concerned about was Kurt’s leaving. 

His dorm room was empty now, the last suitcase zipped up. Blaine was sitting on his boyfriend’s mattress taking in the last moment that Kurt was a Dalton student. 

“I’ll miss you too, you know, a lot,” Kurt said from the doorway. 

“I know,” Blaine replied, “it’s just sad.” 

Kurt took a seat next to him on the bed. 

“I’ll sing to you.” 

Blaine smiled. “Promise?” 

“Everyday.” Kurt kissed his cheek. 

They were going to be okay. 

[luxekook]

chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat. 

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all. 

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