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crxss01 · 10 months

Text

— PRINCESA

pairing ʚɞ… 42!miles morales x reader

summary ʚɞ… you came into miles’s life and he makes sure that you, his princesa, never leave it.

warnings ʚɞ… miles being a lil stalker (it’s okay though, is miles), you have parents that move around too much, cursing, miles with a sweet tooth (he loves tres leches), mature themes (making out + mentions of drugs but you two aren’t the ones to do them), the relationship is a little toxic but not too much, major obsession with miles’s eyes (they’re just adorable).

m.list, main m.list ʚɞ

translations ʚɞ… mi princesa: my princess bonito: handsome/pretty boy eres tan bonita: you are so pretty ahora solo tengo tantas ganas de besarte: right now i just want to kiss you so badly siempre estás en mi mente: you’re always on my mind.

a/n ʚɞ…recap of how you met miles, how you started dating + how it is going, heavily based on princesa by jay roxxx. this is supposed to be a fic of celebration for 1k followers so i hope you enjoy and sorry that it couldn’t be published on sunday like i said i would start doing.

the first time you met miles was when you were walking in the hallway during your first day at visions. you were tired of being the new girl every time you moved, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

he was leaning against your assigned locker and he had an annoyed expression on his face as he glared off into space, it was kind of intimidating and you were skeptical to approach him but you really needed to put all the books in your locker before you got a back injury from the weight.

the boy was handsome though, he had the prettiest hazel eyes you had ever seen. the softest features too, except for his jawline that looked pretty sharp. his hair was braided and the braids looked good on him, a little too good maybe.

you decided to approach him, maybe his expression was the only intimidating thing about him.

and you thought right.

“excuse me, can you move?” you nodded at all the books in your arms. “i need to put these in there.”

the boy snapped out of whatever daze he was in and his eyes focused on you, his hazel eyes captured your own and he seemed so comfortable at holding eye contact while you couldn’t handle his stare and looked at the side of his head where a piece of your locker showed.

“please?” you tried again, it was your first day and you truly didn’t want any drama right now.

the boy cocked his head to the side, the side where your eyes were staring at like he was chasing for your gaze. those hazel’s captured your eyes again and there seem to be amusement in them, the smirk that grew on his face proved you right.

“of course, ma.” he said, and moved over onto the next locker. “there you go.”

you offered him a small smile and a thank you before turning you attention to your locker. after putting the books in, you left but you couldn’t help taking a look over your shoulder back at him when you where about to take a turn.

your eyes met him and he offered you another smirk then he was out of sight when you took the turn.

that was the first time of many that you would find the nameless boy leaning against your locker, making you ask him to move each time. you didn’t have any classes with him and visions was a big school so you didn’t see him around among the crowd of students unless he was there leaning on your locker.

again, you were making your way to your locker ready to see miles again and ask him to move so you could take out something from your locker but this time he was the one who wanted to ask something.

“there you are, princesa.” he spoke when he saw you.

there was that nickname again. he used to call you ma or mami, but one time he decided that those nicknames did not suit you and so since then he only ever called you princesa. you tried your best at pretending not to like the nickname and failed.

“took you so long, i was starting to worry.” the smirk on his face said otherwise.

“hi.” you said with a small smile. “can you—”

“hold up, princesa.” miles put a finger up, shutting you up instantly. “i have been here for a whole month now, just leaning against your locker and you don’t even ask for my name? or anything at all.”

“if you wanted me to know your name you would’ve told me.” you answered back.

he just stared at you for a long moment with amusement, before his smirk turned into a smile and he spoke. “miles morales.”

“y/n y/l/n.” you said.

“i knew that, princesa.” he said. “and now that we know each other’s names, how do you feel about going out with me this saturday? i’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“we don’t even know each other.” you furrowed your eyebrows, apart from the small talk that the two had made and his name (now) you didn’t know shit about him. “and you don’t know if i’m with someone.”

“that’s what dates are for, and i know you aren’t with someone. i asked around.” miles shrugged. “so yes or no? or do i still need to convince you some more?”

you just stared at him for a while, his hazel eyes not leaving yours the whole while. finally you gave in, those eyes were just too pretty to deny anything while looking at them. “alright, i’ll go on that date with you. golf ‘n stuff, 6pm sharp.”

miles cracked a smile, and clapped his hands together. “i love golf ‘n stuff. you and i are going to have so much fun there.”

and that you two did. the first date with miles was something that you will always have in your heart, but the eleventh one was your favorite because it was when he finally asked you out.

it was on october 3rd.

miles had asked you out to go to a restaurant, and this was the first time that it was actually a fancy one and not just a fast food one. his uncle had let him borrow his car so that he could drive you both there.

“didn’t you say your uncle had a motorcycle?” you had asked confused when he settled in the driver seat with you on the passenger one.

“he also has a car.” miles scratched behind his ear and you nodded. he was lying, that habit of his was easy to pick up on. “i needed to get the best for mi princesa.”

“your princess now?” you raised an eyebrow. “that’s bold.”

he chuckled but didn’t say anything as he started the car.

when you got there, he opened the door for you and gave you his hand to help you out. you smiled and took it, he was such a gentleman when he wasn’t acting like a bad boy.

as you two sat down at the table for two, you admired the nice decorations and the variety of couples and families sitting and chatting away happily.

“this place is so nice.” you told miles.

“it is,” he nodded with a fond smile, his hazel eyes locking with yours like they always did. “my mom started taking me here when my dad… you know. since i love tres leches so much and she was told this place had the best ones she thought it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try and since then we come here at least once a month.”

you reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“i hope you didn’t waste your monthly visit with me.”

“don’t worry, we already came here this month.” his smile grew as he turned his hand in your grasp and started holding yours back.

“okay.” you looked down at your hands holding, and they stayed like that while you checked out the menu.

“aren’t you two a sweet couple.” the waitress (who looked around your age, maybe a little older) came after a few minutes and smiled at the two of you. “are you two ready to order?”

both of you didn’t bother to correct the waitress instead choosing to give each other a shy smile.

“i want to drink *whatever you want* and a *whatever food you want*” you spoke up your order when miles nodded at you to go first.

the waitress wrote that down.

“miles morales, i requested something.” he winked. “and apart from that i want an alcohol-free piña colada and a steak with tostones on the side.”

the waitress clearly blushed and you didn’t blame her, that wink had been pretty hot.

“got that,” she nodded, and wrote that down. “anything else?”

“no.” you and miles said in unison.

the waitress left.

the night went on in a blur, but when it got to time to order dessert, you were ready to order your favorite one but you didn’t have to order any because the waitress just came and put it down in front of you.

“i didn’t —” you pointed down, not even looking at it but the waitress just smiled at you and left.

you turned to miles. “did they get the wrong table? i haven’t even ordered this yet.”

miles pointed down at the plate and you looked down.

‘will you officially be mi princesa?’ was written on the side of the plate.

“yes.” you nodded, a big smile taking over your face and miles’s smile could rival your own.

and that was also the night you had your first kiss, right in front of your house.

“thanks for the night, bonito.” you were telling him. “i had so much fun and—”

“bonito?” he interrupted.

you got a little nervous and nodded while turning your gaze away. “well, yea.”

miles took a hold of your chin, turning your face back to looking at him. “look at me, okay? always look at me, got it?” he whispered softly as your eyes came in contact with his.

“i got it.”

“bonito.”

“i got it, bonito.” you smiled.

this time it was him who broke the eye contact, looking down at your lips before looking into your eyes again. “eres tan bonita.” the way he said it had you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

your hand raised to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. “and you are so handsome, such a pretty boy.”

miles’s cheek got hotter under your palm and you silently celebrated your accomplishment.

“ahora solo tengo tantas ganas de besarte…”

“do it.”

and so he did, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. your mouths moved in sync with one another, fitting perfectly together like a puzzle, you two were just meant to be and this was another prove of that. his mouth tasted sweet and you wanted that taste to last on your tongue forever, to just be able to enjoy miles’s sweet taste in your mouth even when you weren’t with him.

you both pulled away because sadly oxygen existed and you needed to breathe.

“that was…” you trailed off, not knowing how to describe it.

“yes, it was.” miles agreed. “i’ll meet up with you tomorrow to go back to school, princesa. is that okay?”

“yes, it is.” you gave him one last peck, but it turned into multiple ones because you two just couldn’t keep your lips away from the other after having just one taste.

“bye, princesa.” another peck.

“yeah, bye, bonito.” another one.

“imma miss you, princesa.” another peck.

“i will miss you too, bonito.” another one.

“i have to leave.” another peck.

“i know.” and another one.

that went on until you two realized how late it had gotten and had to leave before your parent(s) killed either of you.

the first time you two said the three little big words was 5 months into your relationship and miles was the first to say it.

you were hanging out in his house in some shorts and a pair of his shirt, his mom was out working for the day and you kinda missed her because she was honestly the kindest and most accepting mother you had ever met.

rio morales was skeptical at first but when she saw the big smile on her son’s face as he introduced you, she accepted you. you knew that the reason she was quick to welcome you was because of how happy her son was.

“princesa, come here.” miles called out to you from his bed where he was laying, one arm behind his head and the other patting his lap for you to sit.

you smiled and ran to him, jumping on his lap and putting your hands on his chest. “yes, bonito?”

the hand that had been patting his lap earlier made its way to your hips and pulled you in until your lips were touching.

the two of you kissed softly, your hands caressing his cheeks. it was a sweet moment and you both didn’t start anything more just wanting to feel this connection between you.

“you know something?” the boy asked as he pulled away.

“what?” you asked, leaving your noses touching.

“siempre estas en mi mente,” there were those hazel eyes again, locking yours in and not letting go. “and i love that.”

“you do?” you rubbed your nose against him.

“yes, and i love you.”

you froze and sat up fully on his lap, miles followed as he sat and put his hands on your hips.

“sorry, princesa. but i really do and i couldn’t hold it in anymore.” he apologized. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same just yet.”

“no, it’s not that.” you shook your head and a smile grew on your face. “i love you too, i was just surprised.”

miles smiled along with you and pulled you in to connect your lips again. “i love you so much.”

the first ‘big’ argument that you two had was because of his possessiveness over you and the way he wanted to control everything you did. you had enough of that.

“miles, i’m not trying to start an argument with you or anything. i was just telling you that you shouldn’t be so harsh on my friends.”

“yeah, right. your guy ‘friends’, the ones who can’t keep their fucking eyes off of you for one goddamn second?!” he said exasperated.

“miles, you get worked up over nothing. girls look at you all the time and i do not feel jealous because they won’t try anything, why can’t you try and be the same?!”

“oh so now you want me to change? i thought you loved me just like i’am. guess things changed, huh?” his face was close to yours, noses nearly touching.

“i just want you to change that one thing, miles. it is not a big deal, i just don’t think we can keep going if you’re going to be acting like this.” you pushed him away, but he took a hold of your wrists.

“i’m sorry, i think i must have heard you wrong, princesa.” his mouth twisted into a snarl, those beautiful hazel eyes glaring at you. “you’re not leaving me.”

“if i wanted to, you know damn well i could.” you said, glaring right back.

“but you’re not going to, because you know damn well you love me.” he mocked you.

“i do, miles. i really do, but when you get like this i don’t even know anymore.” you shook your head, pulling your arms from his grip because even if he was mad right he would never apply so much pressure when holding you. he would never lay his hands on you like that.

his phone lit up with a message from his uncle and he took it, reading it without you being able to see what it was.

then miles sighed, “look, ma. i think i’m gonna go, it will give you time to think about this dumb decision you want to make and when i come back tomorrow i truly hope you had made a smart choice.” he laid a kiss on the top of your head and left through your window.

“ma? really?” you scoffed.

the time you made up after that argument wasn’t actually the next day, it was a whole week later during school. right in front of your locker, you hadn’t seen miles for that week and you were mad. he didn’t even bother to answer your multiple texts and calls.

“so we talk when you decide that we should talk?” you spoke up when you walked up to him, who was comfortably leaning against your locker.

the hallway was deserted and you were glad.

“i was busy.” he said like it was nothing. “we talk when you decide so, princesa.”

“mmm…” you nodded with pursed lips. “what were you doing?”

“don’t worry about it.” he shook his head and grabbed your head between his hands, his thumb caressing your cheek. “so, did that pretty head of yours make a decision?”

“yes.”

“so, what was it?” his eyes were pulling you in encouraging you to make the right choice.

and they did convince you. “i want to stay with you, but please tone down the jealousy.”

“i don’t get jealous, princesa.” miles chuckled, then placed a kiss on your lips. “but i promise i won’t get that possessive over you again.”

and of course, he lied about that.

now, after 2 years of being together and going into senior year. you couldn’t be more happier.

“stop!” you started kicking your feet and pushing miles away, trying desperately to stop him from tickling you and failing miserably.

“tell me where my control is, princesa and i will stop tickling you.” he kept tickling you.

you had hid his ps control because you wanted all his attention on you, but you were close to wetting your pants from laughing and there were tears running down your face.

“i don’t know where it is…” you lied out of breath as his tickling came to a stop to let you talk.

“liar!” he attacked you again.

“miles!” you screamed, bursting out laughing again.

“tell me, princesa.” he insisted.

“no.” you shook your head.

then his attack method changed and he started leaving kisses all over your face as only one hand was used to tickle you.

“tell me,” he said. “or you won’t get kisses for a month.”

“it’s in the kitchen, on the shelf for the plates.”

living without his kisses for that long was not an option.

ʚɞ reblogs are really appreciated!

taglist ʚɞ @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @missusmorales @kamisama1kiss @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @dxille @miguelslefteyebrow @axeoverblade @iheartcats34 (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

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tarjapearce · 7 months

Text

Grandma's Visit.

Warnings: Drama, mild angst, Strained Relationships. Comfort towards the end. No proofread

Summary: Conchata wants to meet Benji.

A/N: There might not be updates, but have this little piece as an offer :')

Hey

Gabriel's leg bounced as the main door was closed, a bit of a slam on it. His hands immediately fetched his phone.

Migue

Busy right now.

Drop that shit and listen

?? ¿Qué pasó? (What's wrong?)

Mamá va para allá, cabrón.

The fuck you mean she's on her way? Did you tell her where do I live?

Miguel, it's mom we're talking about.

The eldest O'Hara sighed and raked a hand over his hair. He was definitely not prepared for what laid ahead.

She wants to meet Benjamin.

Miguel's body tensed as his muscles flexed so tightly, one would think he'd break. And it wasn't far from the truth.

Conchata. Or Connie for her friends, was the ever annoying stone on his shoes. Miguel had refused to have her in his wedding. Not out of spite, rather for the notion he had of his beloved progenitor. He knew that trouble followed her everywhere and if it wasn't following her like an overly attached stalker, is cause she was the problem itself.

Conchata was anything but easy to be around. And things had gone even more acrid after the wedding. Miguel never told you about the fourty five minute call she made him just to say how much of a bad son he was for not inviting her over.

But Miguel knew better, if he'd had her, she'd either complain about everything, ruining the mood for everyone. Or she'd start making snide comments on you and he'd get pissed, some drama would ensue causing an even bigger and jagged rift between them and his wedding would be ruined.

"Hey"

Your gentle and soft touch grounded him, anchored his mind back to his body, as his attention snapped back at you.

"You ok?"

His eyes felt tired and heavy. Unable to meet your gaze completely.

"I'll be."

You cradled him in your arms and kissed the top of his forehead. The touch alone melted him. His own arms embracing your shorter form, that somehow did the perfect work of comforting him and ease his thoughts. But when it came to his mother, little good things came out from it.

"My... eh-" He cleared his throat, "My mother is coming for a visit"

Oh...

"What she could possibly want after so many years?"

"Meet Benjamin."

Even though his words seemed simple, the clenching of his fists until his knuckles turned white, only dictated it was far from being that. Miguel didn't fear his mother, but feared and hated the words that could possibly escape her mouth when things weren't her way.

His wellbeing would be the sacrifice for the visit, cause he'd do anything possible to avoid you or his children get hurt.

"I swear, if she says or does something stupid-"

"Mi reina, let me handle her, ok?"

Your lips pursed and your brows deepened in a soft furrow.

"I won't hesitate-"

"I know. But please. Just, let me, ok?"

Both of you knew that things weren't going to be easy, his distress was obvious, he knew you'd step in if necessary, but he had to face her, it was more like a closure for him than anything. His baby boy wouldn't suffer the dooming and cursing words she gave him so many years ago. Words he learned to loathe as he grew up.

"Alright."

----

Maybe Gabriel's heads up was a false alarm, because nearly a week had gone by. A week of pent up stress and anxiety from both sides. And you could tell from Miguel's demeanor changing.

Even though being loving and a great father remained on the top list, you knew better than that. He'd been found asleep in his office after dinner, or would shut out himself for some little minutes. You'd give him space, and when he needed you, he'd always know where to find you.

He didn't even required to say 'I need you' cause you knew. His body language over the years had been a great subject of study, specially when it came to anxiety and other negatives that always switched on whenever his mother popped up in a conversation, or when something didn't sit right in his gut.

He'd pace, pick at the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood, chew at the insides of his cheek, drink alot of more coffee to keep himself awake, grumpier than usual, irritated, short replies for everything outside his beloved family.

With you he'd be clingier than usual, he'd spoil Gabi over to avoid thinking too much. He'd pour himself into being that amazing and loving parent he never had, but at night, he'd just hold you until he fell asleep. He'd clutch onto you so tightly that sometimes you'd have little bruises, barely visible ones, in the places he'd hold.

Your comfort skills poured into his preferred love language. Physical touch. You'd play with his hair until he fell asleep, a little purr coming from him before giving into sleep, you'd caress his back in soothing circles, letting the steady beating of your heart lull him to calm.

You'd kiss his face, showering him in affection, as if with every kiss a bit of his worries would go away.

The knock on the main door however interrupted his train of thoughts. You had gone to the supermarket to get some stuff you had forgotten for dinner. Relief washing over him as you now we're home, or so he innocently had thought. All air was caught in his throat upon seeing none other than Conchata on the front door.

Even for her age, Conchata had some beauty reserved. Her skin tone same as Miguel's, soft curls that lingered above her shoulders, deep brown eyes that if one looked close enough, would see the deep red in them. Tall and seizing him with a look he also learned to master.

A scowl disguised as a smile.

"Miguel. "

"Mamá."

A too common and long pleasantries shared between the both.

She hasn't aged much.

Miguel's mind chanted.

"You're gonna let me in to meet my grandson, or what?"

A bushy brow of his quirked, blasé and bored, but he stepped aside. His whole frame had curbed her for long enough.

Here we go

Her scrutinizing gaze was unstoppable against the nakedness of his home. Her eyes raked in every little detail out of place, loading her verbal ammo with it.

"Where is the baby?"

"Asleep."

Monotone and monosyllabic answers that matched his expression was all she could pry from him. It was ridiculous the amount of pictures you seemed to have about Gabriella. She saw her when she was two, then six. Staying in Miguel’s life wasn't something she actually liked to partake on. Too busy with her own demons and new boyfriends to care.

Why would she? He was already a grown ass man.

A man that refused to have her at his own wedding. A past resentment that has lasted over the years and her own mind had been feeding the fester inside her heart. It didn't help you had one of the wedding pictures scattered around the living room.

The few proofs she needed to see, to know she wasn't welcome, but knowing her son had his own now, was another excuse to see what kind of man and father Miguel had turned out to be.

His arms crossed on his chest as she sat down in one of the seats in the couch.

"Come."

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"I'm trying to be civil. The least you can do is obey your mother for once."

"Why you came?"

"I told you. I need to see my grandson."

"Whatever for?"

Her eyes hardened at his words, but a sigh escaped her lips.

"God, you're so like your father. Always mistrusting people."

"You need to leave."

Hearing her say such curse, made his heart beat even faster. Hands clenched tightly at his sides. Eyes away from her, like if the mere sight of her brought back so many unpleasantness he had fought hard to work them through.

"I won't leave until your... woman shows up and throws me away."

"She will."

"Of course she will. You're not man enough. Just look at this place. A mess."

"And?"

Miguel knew that paying and baiting into her games, would only hinder so. many years of progress he had done on his own. But would also mean to give her the attention she desperately seeked, even if it meant to do it the wrong way.

"What do you mean, and?! What does she does around all day?" Conchata huffed, " In my times the wife was the one that kept everything in check. I've seen nothing but a mess so far."

"Sorry for that."

Your tired and irked voice echoed from the kitchen's door. Miguel gave you a little smirk.

"Have been busy being a real mother this whole time. Miguel, mi amor can you defrost some vegetables, please?"

"Sure do. Found everything?"

You both were purposely ignoring her. A silent yet powerful statement.

You have no power here.

Conchata's eyes set like stone into you. How dared a tiny flea like yourself to speak to her in such way?. And even worse, how could his son be lenient in allowing you to be disrespectful towards her?

You had entered quietly, the heavy and draining aura could be felt even from outside. You had told Gabi to wait outside and rearrange the groceries in the meantime.

" Oh, I didn't know you had returned."

Your name rolling off her tongue felt wrong.

" It's my house too."

"Ah, of course. You didn't do a pre-nup. Te va a dejar en la calle, Miguel." (She'll leave you bare)

Conchata's gaze never left you, it only turned even more intense as her pupils followed you every step.

"I came here to meet my grandson. Where is Gabriella? "

Said precious child helped you to get the bags from your car, while Conchata opened her arms for Gabi to cuddle her. But everything that came out was her hiding behind you, while looking between you and her, as if asking permission.

"Do you want to greet grandma, baby?"

Gabi only recoiled back, hiding further from you.

"Guess not."

You shrugged and instructed Gabi to go to her room, your eldest baby ignored her grandma.

"Muy chistosa tu mujer, enseñándole a mis nietos a irrespetarme ." (Your woman is so funny by teaching my grandkids to disrespect me.)

Miguel had to roll his eyes and stare at her boringly as he pulled out the vegetables and put them to thaw while you clenched your jaw by the sudden resented babbling that came from your mother in law.

"Where is Benjamin? I came here to see him. And I'm sure you'd love to have me here again."

"He'll be up in a minute. Would you like a a glass of water?"

Miguel offered but Conchata was already set in making you as uncomfortable as possible. And when Benjamin was brought in, rubbing his sleepy and baby face, looking for you, Conchata stood and took Benji from Miguel's arms. Holding him with such disingenuous affection it made Benji to reach for Miguel instantly.

You tensed, and so did Benjamin as Conchata admired him. If it wasn't for the skin tone matching Miguel’s, one would think that Benjamin wasn't his. Benjamin had your curls. And not Miguel's soft waves. Benjamin was the splitting image of you with a bit of Miguel's DNA painted in a few selected places. Like his eyes and height.

"I'm actually surprised you managed to pop out his children. Miguel is... big. Got it from his father."

"Didn't care much about that, ma'am."

"No se parece en nada a ti, Miguel. ¿Estás seguro que es tu hijo?" (He doesn't look like you. Are you sure he's your son?)

You didn't know what infuriated you more. The fact that she hinted that Benjamin wasn't his, a shallow and not so subtle hint at Miguel's past, or the pleased smirk her mouth turned into after spilling out the venom and seeing Miguel's discomfit grow.

Some people couldn't be helped. And Conchata truly couldn't help but love hurting her son. But you weren't having it. Not when Miguel's eyes turned away from her, not in hurt but in such anger that even you knew things wouldn't end up good for neither. And still, he regarded her with uninterested eyes.

His lack of engagement at her taunts, made her even more lashing. Like a little child that refused to have her whims met.

Even worse when Benjamin started to fuss and reach for him with a nervous cry. Even he felt odd and icky around her. You took Benjamin from her, cooing and soothing him, but he wanted Miguel. Who gladly took his precious baby, away from Connie. Inspecting him for any damage to finally kiss the top of his forehead, reassuringly.

You're safe.

"Si ya terminó de incomodarnos, creo que se puede ir, señora." (If you're done making us uncomfortable, you may go, ma'am.)

Her eyes widened at your spanish. It was clear that you had understood everything she had said, but were wise enough to not lose your temper, yet you fought back.

"Remind me to never visit you again, please."

"As if you ever do that. And no, it's not an invitation."

"Escúchame bien, chamaco ingrato-" (Listen to me you ungrateful brat)

"Ma'am."

You weren't one for yelling, but your voice was firm enough to have three pair of eyes set on you, Benjamin's fussing stopped. Conchata's lips turned into a scowl at your words.

"Thanks for your visit."

"You know, you could've settled for something better-"

"Así estoy bien, gracias. Now, if you excuse us, We've got dinner to make. The door is right there." (Im just fine. Thanks)

She left with a slam that had Benjamin cry out of the jumpscare.

Miguel hushed and rubbed his baby's back in little circles to keep him calm before giving his pacifier.

" You ok? "

Your hand squeezed Miguel's for a moment while he kissed your temple gratefully.

" Yeah. She's gone. That's why exactly I didn't invite her to the wedding or meeting you."

"It's alright. God... she's-"

"Annoying. I know. Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Nah. I'm glad you taught me cause, damn... Her face upon hearing me speaking it, was priceless. And just for you to know, I was about to explain how we almost made Benji on the car."

Miguel snorted and nodded, knowing you would. You had each other's back and that wasn't up for discussion.

" Te amo."

You mumbled in his ear before stealing a kiss from his lips.

" También te amo."

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #conchata o'hara #benjamin o'hara #mama o'hara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #x reader #astv fanfic

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daisynik7 · 1 year

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Strawberry Soju

🎶 I don’t need another shot of you, but I got to, my strawberry soju 🎶

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre: college au, enemies-to-lovers

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: asshole!Eren, fratboy!Eren, subby!Eren, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, unprotected sex, alcohol, language.

Summary: Two weeks before graduation, you are finally done with your senior project. This calls for a celebration with your team, including the person who annoys you the most: Eren Jaeger. The two of you learn to put your differences aside for one night, starting with a bottle of strawberry soju.

Notes: All characters are seniors in college (21-22 years old), engineering majors. Eren is a frat boy, so some details from my series Rush will be used, but no correlation to that story. Inspired by the song “Strawberry Soju”, which I’ve been obsessed with for the past two weeks. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you enjoy! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you so much!

“And now, we are proud to present the winner of this year’s Senior Project Showcase: Team Titan! For their omni-directional mobility gear, designed for construction workers in the field to ensure safety whilst elevated hundreds of feet in the air! Bravo, Team Titan! Bravo!”

Professor Pyxis’s announcement leaves you and your group flabbergasted. Sasha and Connie both have their jaws dropped. Eren, who sits beside you, throws his fist in the air, exclaiming, “Oh hell yeah!” You stay in your seat, in total shock.

Pyxis stares fondly at the four of you, beckoning you towards the stage in the main engineering lecture hall. “Don’t be shy, my young engineers, come here to accept your award!” Hesitantly, you all make your way behind the podium, a polite round of applause from the other students and faculty echoing throughout the room.

Nearly an entire semester of work has led to this. Five months of grueling research, scrambling to acquire the right materials, complicated design issues that made you want to scream. Not to mention five months spent collaborating with the bane of your existence: Eren Jaeger. The award for first place barely makes up for a semester’s worth of torture; nonetheless, it’s still a pretty trophy.

It was fate that brought the four of you together back in January, the same fate that has spited you for whatever reason, forcing you to work alongside Eren, the most obnoxious, cocky, annoying person you have ever met in your short twenty-two years of living. While you had no issues with Connie or Sasha, you and Eren did not mesh. It’s been apparent since the beginning of the semester when you were chosen to be the team leader. He scoffed, claimed that he “would be a better choice, but whatever.” Your relationship with him was doomed from that day on.

What’s odd is that he isn’t an asshole to the entire group; his less than pleasant behavior seems to be reserved for you, and only you. He gets on perfectly fine with Sasha and Connie, who have basically played mediator for you two, keeping as much of the peace as possible whenever an argument ensues. He usually instigates it, always making an unnecessary comment to get under your skin. At this point, you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of you, because how can one human be this irritating?!

Despite all the petty drama, you have to admit that he’s smart. Not only that, but he also works hard and gets shit done, no matter how much grief he gives you about it. And, if you squint hard enough, he maybe is, almost, sort of…hot. Strictly speaking from an objective standpoint, that is. Based on media-driven beauty standards and common qualities that are considered conventionally attractive by society. Of course, you will never, ever admit this aloud, especially not to him. You’re convinced that if he ever finds out, his massive head will explode, already overinflated from his gigantic ego.

Your team crowds Pyxis, who happily hands you the trophy first. Eren, no surprise, snatches it from your clutches to hold it himself, kissing it and lifting it above him like he won a major league championship. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to maintain professionalism in front of the watching staff.

“Will your team leader give a few words about the project?” Pyxis asks, gaze on you, motioning to the stand.

You tense up, usually nervous about public speaking. Clearing your throat, you lean into the mic. “Uh, thank you Professor Pyxis and the rest of the faculty for selecting our project. This has been a labor of love for the past five months and we are honored to have it recognized. We hope that this prototype and any of the research associated with it will help improve labor conditions for those working in construction, risking their lives every day.”

You glance at Connie and Sasha to see if they’d like to add anything else. Connie adds, “Special shoutout to grad students Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Hange Zoe for helping us out a ton with our project, from offering advice to testing it out. We love you!”

“And thank you Paradise Pizzeria and Café Utopia for fueling many late nighters throughout this whole semester! You rock!” Sasha exclaims, resulting in laughter from the audience.

Eren grabs the mic from the stand, yelling, “This is dedicated to my fraternity brothers, for providing moral support during these trying times! Alpha Tau for life!” He holds the trophy in one hand, using the other to salute an inverted fist at his chest, sticking his tongue out.

This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as the crowd laughs even louder, clearly amused by it. He passes the microphone back to Pyxis. “Fantastic! I love the enthusiasm of this team. Let’s give them all another big round of applause!”

After the presentation is over, Pyxis instructs, “They’d like to take your picture next to the ODM gear. The photographers are taking some shots of the other projects, so feel free to take your time heading to the Rose Center.”

On the walk, Eren passes the trophy to Sasha. “What to hold it, Sash?”

“Sure! Still can’t believe we won!”

Connie puts his arm around her, staring at the prize. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but damn, is it nice to look at.”

Eren catches up to you, nudging you in the arm. “Would it have killed you to smile during your little speech?”

You shove your elbow into his ribs, a little harder than necessary. “I was smiling.”

“You call that a smile? You looked like you were in a hostage situation. Like, blink three times if they’re hurting you type of deal,” he teases, that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Like you were any better!” You stick your tongue out, mocking him. “Alpha Tau for life, bros!”

“I really meant it. I needed all the fucking help I could get, dealing with you this whole semester. If it weren’t for them, I would have gone fucking crazy because of you.”

“Oh right, because I’m the one driving you crazy, sure,” you respond, sarcastically.

“Hey, at least you’re admitting it! You’re finally making progress!” He claps in front of your face.

You shove him, glaring. “You are such a jerk.”

“Don’t be so sensitive, baby.”

“Oh, I am not your baby.”

Sasha jumps in between, yelling, “Enough! Both of you, stop it!!”

Connie joins in. “Yeah, we won today. Stop ruining the mood.”

Without you realizing it, the four of you have made it to the Rose Center, which is luckily vacant in the midst of your little spat with Eren. This is how your arguments usually go, all because of something petty that never leads anywhere. When the photographer arrives, they direct you to stand beside your project, already displayed in one of the glass windows. They take a couple of shots, then it’s over. Just like that, your senior project is officially done. There’s a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. All that’s left to do is to graduate.

The sun is setting by the time the photoshoot is finished. The four of you exit the building, Sasha immediately announcing, “I’m hungry! Let’s get dinner one last time as a team!”

“I’m down for that. Any ideas where to go?”

“Paradise Pizza?”

“No, we’ve had that way too many times this year. Let’s go somewhere special tonight.”

“There’s that all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue place downtown,” you suggest. “It’s only fifteen minutes away if we take the train.”

“Ooohh, I like the sound of that!”

“I’m down. Eren?”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. That too-cool-to-care attitude apparent in his body language. “If that’s what everyone else wants, then I guess it’s fine.” If it had been either Sasha or Connie to suggest it, you know for a fact that he would have a more positive response. Because it’s you, he has to act like he’s being forced into it, reluctant to concede with absolutely everything you propose.

You go your separate ways to change out of professional attire and into more comfortable clothes, agreeing to meet outside Eren’s in an hour. His apartment is closest to the train station, making it the most convenient. By 7:00PM, you’re inside the restaurant, seated at a table, grill fired up as you browse through the menu. Sasha, the ultimate foodie of the group, orders the first round of meats. You pick the drinks.

“Two bottles of strawberry soju, please!” you tell the waiter.

“Oh, I love soju!” Sasha squeals.

You smile at her. “Me too. This flavor’s my favorite.”

Eren, who is somehow seated next to you, grunts. “Strawberry? Of course you’d pick some girly shit like that.”

“Hey man, don’t knock it till you try it,” Connie says. “This shit gets you fucked up fast. Trust me. I’ve gotten soju drunk before, and it’s awesome.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah, that’s because of all the extra fucking sugar, I bet. Sounds gross.”

The waiter arrives with the alcohol and four glasses, along with waters to share. You do the honors and pour everyone, except Eren, a shot. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this gross soju, then?”

He snatches the shot glass, thrusting it towards you. “I didn’t say that. Just pour me some.”

With glasses filled to the brim, you all cheers, then throw it back. The familiar flavor is refreshing and sweet on your tongue, smooth down your throat.

“Shit, that’s good!” Connie raves.

“Strawberry might be my new favorite flavor! It’s so yummy!”

You face Eren, grinning. “Well?”

He shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.”

“Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?” you tease, nudging him in the arm.

“I said it’s fine, okay?”

You stop pestering him, satisfied knowing that maybe you were finally right about something when it comes to him.

Soon, a plethora of tasty side dishes are scattered on the table. Rice, kimchi, fresh lettuce, potato salad, two helpings of steamed eggs to share. Three heaping plates of meat follow. Sasha begins barbequing, laying out portions of beef bulgogi on the hot grill as the rest of you watch hungrily, the steam and aroma surrounding you like a cozy embrace. Once it’s cooked, you help yourselves, stuffing your faces with perfectly grilled meat and whatever else you desire. Several bites in, you all decide to do another round of shots, first bottle almost finished.

“Good idea to do KBBQ tonight!” Sasha mentions. “I haven’t had it in a while. I forgot how much I love it.”

Connie chimes in, “Same! Which side dish is everyone’s favorite?”

Sasha immediately points to the potato salad. “Is there any doubt that mine would be this?”

“Of course we all know that potato girl. I like kimchi. What’s yours?”

You pick out your favorite. “This one, for sure.”

Eren makes an unapproving noise. “Of course you’d pick that. So basic.”

To keep the peace, especially on this night of celebration, you ignore the temptation to reply with an equally sassy comment. Instead, you ask, “Well, what’s your favorite, Eren?”

“The steamed egg. It’s delicious and packs an extra serving of protein.” He flexes his bicep with a smug expression. “Not that I really need it.”

Connie and Sasha laugh, while you take a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to keep your cool. You crack open the bottle, downing the remaining alcohol to help you get through the rest of the night.

“What’s everyone’s plans after graduation?” Connie asks.

Sasha answers first. “I’ll be working with my dad for our family business.”

“I’m sure Artur will appreciate all the new, high-tech engineering skills you have! If I’m still unemployed in two months, can you please hire me?”

“Of course!”

“What about you, Eren?”

“I got an offer in Marley,” he reveals. “It’s a pretty good gig, but I don’t know about moving overseas. I got another in Stohess to work for their weapons warehouse, so maybe I’ll accept that instead.”

“I’ve never been overseas,” you comment. “Sounds interesting if you do decide to go.”

“Well, you’re wrong. It doesn’t sound interesting at all.”

Even your attempt at being polite is met with malice. “You always argue with me for the sake of arguing.”

He turns to face you, brows furrowed. “No I don’t!”

“You’re literally doing it right now! I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well, try harder,” he grumbles, picking meat off the grill.

“My god, you two are exhausting!” Sasha intervenes.

Connie nods. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of fighting all the time?”

“Honestly, you two should do it and get it over with.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eren leers at Sasha through the smoke.

“I’m saying get all your anger out by fucking each other. Hate sex is the best medicine for situations like this,” she explains, matter of fact.

“No fucking way,” Eren says. “It’s not like that.”

“Definitely not,” you reiterate, cheeks warm. You pour yourself another shot, already on the second bottle, not offering a serving to anyone else. Desperate for liquor with the direction this conversation is going.

“Wow, you two actually agree on something for once!” Connie teases. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

The duo giggle together, finding enjoyment from your current state of misery. Eren clears his throat, muttering something unintelligible. He reaches for the soju in front of you, avoiding your gaze as he tips it into his empty shot glass, instantly downing it. Before the silence gets awkward, you change the subject, mentioning some idle gossip you heard around the engineering department, to which Connie and Sasha have plenty to contribute to.

An hour later, the four of you manage to finish most of the food, only a few pieces of charred meat left over. Sasha and Connie rub their stomachs, satisfied by the feast. You and Eren end up finishing the last bottle between the two of you. Since the comment from earlier, neither of you have spoken directly, avoiding each other.

Connie slumps into the chair, patting his belly. “Let’s play a game while we digest! Truth or eat. If you don’t answer, you have to eat these burnt pieces of bulgogi.”

Eren laughs. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” He looks to you, brow raised, challenging. “You in, princess?”

You bite your cheek, holding in the clever retort at his annoying nickname for you, also relieved he’s back to normal. “Sure, why not?”

“I’ll go first,” Sasha volunteers, sitting up in her seat. “Eren, who’s the freakiest brother in Alpha Tau?”

Without hesitating, he states, “Armin, for sure.”

“Armin?! Really?”

“Yup. He’s one kinky motherfucker,” he grins. He turns to face you. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“You want the whole essay, or an abridged version?” you reply, smirking as you sip on your water.

Sasha giggles while Connie mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”

Eren doesn’t let up. “Give me one reason.”

Contemplating which of the many grievances you should expose about him, you finally decide on one. “You always disagree with me, no matter what. Whether it’s something about the project, or something as simple as a side dish preference.”

“We already know that, though. What else?”

“Hey, you wanted one reason, and I gave it to you.” You think for a few seconds, adding, “And to be fair, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you.”

It’s true. While he annoys you beyond your wit’s end, you don’t hate him. He’s a quarter of the reason you all achieved what you did. You focus back on the table, avoiding Eren’s expression. “Connie, have you two ever hooked up?” you question, pointing at the duo.

“Gross! No!”

“Absolutely not. We’re practically twins. That’d be illegal.”

“Yup. We’re basically two halves of a whole idiot.”

You laugh with them, taking another sip of water as Connie poses a question to Eren. “Why do you give her such a hard time?” he asks, referring to you.

“Here we go,” you mumble, ready for an onslaught of ridiculous reasons.

It’s silent for a few moments, then he takes his chopsticks, grabbing at the charred meat on the grill, placing it into his mouth to eat quietly.

“What?!” Sasha yells. “You’re not going to tell us?”

Connie smirks. “Must be pretty bad, then.”

You watch him slowly chew the burnt food, a small smile on his face. As if there’s a secret he’s keeping from everybody else at the table. Why would he refuse to answer the question that he basically asked you? Is his hatred for you that intense that he chooses not to say it, to save you from humiliation? What could you have possibly done to him to warrant this kind of treatment? Maybe it’s the liquor leading you to jump to conclusions, to be slightly offended by his choice. Maybe even a little hurt.

When he’s done, he chugs his whole water. “Alright, my turn again.”

“Wait, really?”

“We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Yup,” he responds, nonchalant.

“Why?”

“Hey, I ate that shit, right? Let it go,” he states, more aggressively this time.

You remain silent, mind racing with all types of ideas. You pay no more attention to the game, contemplating all the possible reasons Eren Jaeger would hate you so much. To be fair, he’s the one who starts it first. All you do is defend yourself. Why would he have any bigger reason to dislike you more than you dislike him?

Connie yells out your name, breaking you out of your reverie. “Hey, are you in?”

“Huh?”

“Karaoke! There’s a bar down the street.”

After paying the check, split evenly, the four of you head to the karaoke bar, booking a private room for an hour. You all sing your hearts out while sobering up from whatever buzz you developed from the soju. Any strange concerns you had about Eren evaporate. The two of you even seem to get along, performing a few duets together.

On the train ride back near campus, the four of you share more laughs, enjoying possibly the last time you’ll be together. With everyone graduating and off to their own paths, it’s hard to tell when, or if, you’ll ever see each other again.

From the station, you start you trek home, pausing outside Eren’s apartment to chat a bit more, until Sasha says, “I guess this is goodbye!”

“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work. This was really fun,” Connie adds, smiling.

“We should all try to keep in touch.”

Eren hugs Connie, then Sasha. The two of you look at each other, contemplating if you should embrace also. Suddenly, you blurt out, “Actually, can I use your bathroom? I have to pee.”

You really do have to pee, but surely, you could have made it the extra ten minutes to your own apartment to do so, right? For some reason, your mind convinces you to stay with him just a little longer. There’s a pending task you have to complete before you part ways for good. You hope for closure, to end things on a good note.

You, Connie, and Sasha exchange hugs, leaving with a final wave, disappearing into the distance. Despite the pleasant warmth of the summer night, there’s a noticeable chill in the air. Not from the weather, rather, from the growing tension surrounding you and Eren. His voice is quiet when he says, “Alright, I guess we can head in now.”

You nod, following him through the entrance. At the elevator, he swipes a keycard, pushing the button to go up to the third floor. The doors open and you step in, still not speaking a word. Arriving at his door, he unlocks it, holding it for you.

“Bathroom is down to the right,” he points, removing his shoes at the entrance.

You copy him, sliding out of your sneakers. “Okay cool. Thank you.”

Once you find the bathroom, you swiftly close the door, fully aware that you are inside Eren Jaeger’s apartment. Naturally, curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick glance around the room, you can tell he’s tidy. Towels hung properly, actual floor mats on the tiles, toilet seat down. Is he anticipating a visit from a friend? Maybe a lover? You can’t help letting your imagination run wild.

Finished with your business, you walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, television playing a show you’re familiar with. “Have you seen this episode yet? The new season just started,” you mention, stepping towards him.

He stands up, turning to face you. “I haven’t. Was planning to watch it tonight.”

“Cool,” is all you manage to utter.

There’s another moment of awkward silence until he asks, “You want to watch it with me?”

Without thinking, you agree.

The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching in silence. About halfway through, with a soft chuckle, he admits, “That strawberry soju wasn’t bad. Actually, it was pretty good.”

This catches you off guard. You look at him, grinning. “Wow. It took you this long to finally come clean about it.”

“Better late than never, right?” He keeps his eyes forward, smirking.

You adjust, completely facing him. “Since you’re being honest about that, can you tell me why you didn’t answer Connie’s question?”

He plays dumb. “What question?”

“Why do you give me such a hard time?”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yeah, I am,” you confess. “Seems a little odd to me that wouldn’t just say it.”

Finally, he matches you, repositioning himself to set his gaze on yours. “Why do you care so much?”

“I’m curious. Since we’ll be graduating soon, we’ll probably never see each other again. I figured we should put everything out there. Get some closure. Make amends.”

He scoffs. “I wasn’t aware there were any amends to make.”

You’re getting annoyed now, impatient with his round-about comments. “Seriously? You think our relationship is normal?”

“I don’t think we have a relationship at all.”

You stand up, regretting being here in the first place. He’s the same asshole he’s always been. What we’re you expecting? Why would he be any different tonight?

“Fine. Forget it. What a waste of time. Good job on the project, and I hope you have a great life.” You stomp towards the exit, not bothering to look at him.

Suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping you loosely around the wrist. “Wait. Don’t go.”

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, skin tingly from the physical contact. Waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he stammers. “I’m not…I can’t really…” he trails off, not finishing his sentences.

When he doesn’t proceed, you ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why do you treat me this way? Why me?”

He swallows hard, the truth difficult for him to spit out. “It’s dumb.”

“I don’t care. Just tell me.”

He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s because I like you, okay?”

It takes a moment for you to process what he’s saying. Eventually, you stammer, “You like me?”

“Yeah, I like you,” he reiterates, still staring at his own feet. “You’re cute. You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also a fucking pain in my ass. But I like you.”

That last part would normally have you on the verge of swinging; however, it’s almost endearing the way he says it. Your sudden change in heart has you questioning if you’re drunk from the liquor you consumed hours ago. “Why would you treat me like this if you like me?”

Another deep sigh as he explains, “I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot and I’m immature. I told you, it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. I just…I didn’t expect this.”

More silence falls between you two. You look down at his big hand still holding you, racing heartbeat reverberating through your chest. You’re not sure how to react. So, you go with your instinct.

You kiss him.

~~~

Eren doesn’t know why he started it months ago at the beginning of the semester. If he’s being completely honest, he’s got the body of Greek god, the intelligence of a genius, and the maturity, or in this case, immaturity, of a fifth grader. That being said, whatever it is that he has going with her, he’s decided to classify it as a schoolboy crush. Like a kid on the playground picking on another kid, doing everything they can to garner all their attention, no matter how annoying it is.

It began with snide remarks here and there, nothing ever too cruel to be considered bullying, but enough to make her bite back. He’s not sure why he kept it up so long, especially after realizing he actually likes her. In his mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all. He can’t be normal around her; being a nuisance is what he’s comfortable with.

Another reason is that he’s intimidated by her. She could see right through his cocky demeanor. Break him down into the vulnerable little shit he really is. The grief he caused her is some bizarre defense mechanism, a way to deny his true feelings for her. All to protect himself and his heart.

He was supposed to go to a frat party tonight after hanging out with the team. Instead, he finds himself alone with her in his apartment, everything revealed, his confession hanging heavy in the air.

Even more unexpected is her leaning forward to kiss him, lips soft and gentle against his. Hesitant and uncertain. Sweet and tangy from the lingering essence of the strawberry soju from earlier. Before he gets carried away, he pulls off, whispering, “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” she admits. “But I can’t deny that I’m curious.”

“We shouldn’t do this then. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just…shut up and let me check something.”

He obeys, closing his eyes, waiting for her move. She kisses him again, more confidentially this time, hand sliding to his nape to pull him closer.

“Fuck, are you sure this is okay?” he breathes out, slowly losing his composure.

She nods, smiling. “Yes.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely certain?”

“If you ask me one more time, you’re really going to piss me off,” she warns, grazing her mouth along his neck, sucking at the skin of his throat.

He nods erratically. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”

She pushes him back towards the couch, falling into the cushions. He watches in awe as she strips her sweatpants, revealing pink lacey panties. She sits in his lap, legs spread wide with him between, clothed pussy against his pulsating cock. His hands are to his sides, clenched to the cushion of the couch. With her lips brushing his ear, she whispers, “You can touch me if you want.”

His cock twitches, erection growing by the second as she straddles him. Carefully, he slides his palms around her waist, moaning a trembling, “Thank you.” Hands at her bottom, he squeezes her ass cheeks in a firm grasp, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, dangerously close to her arousal.

Without thinking, he blurts out, “Use me. Do what you want with me. You’re the leader.”

There’s a wicked smile on her face as soon as he says it. “Eren Jaeger is going to let me use him?”

All pride is thrown out the window. He doesn’t care anymore about giving into weakness. With graduation only two weeks away, and no promise of ever seeing each other again, he decides fuck it. He’s going to do whatever he can to fulfill this fantasy of his. And if that means submitting to her, begging and groveling at her feet, he’ll fucking do it.

“Yeah,” he growls. “Use me as your fuck toy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just fucking use me.”

“Didn’t think Alpha Tau’s frat star would behave like this,” she murmurs, sucking on his ear lobe.

“Does it turn you on?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. Fucking wreck me apart then. Don’t hold back,” he demands. There’s already precum leaking from his tip, soaking through the cotton of his briefs. “Consider it payback for this semester.”

She responds by grinding her hips on his lap. He’s desperate to feel her without fabric separating them, but he knows what he agreed to. He can’t do anything without her permission, without her initiating. She rides him for another minute, his palms on her ass, following her motions. His cock throbs beneath her, aching for release from the confines of his pants. There’s an audible whine developing in his throat, needy for anything.

On cue, she swings her leg over to kneel beside him, tugging at the waistband of his sweats and underwear. He lifts his hips as she slides them off simultaneously, freeing his stiff cock. He watches her marvel at his erection, noticing desire in her eyes. Before he knows it, she’s bent towards his lap, mouth hovering his dick, licking at the slit.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Goddamn.”

She continues to tease him, leaving the shaft untouched, tongue swirling the tip, lapping at his precum.

“Fuck, please. Touch me,” he begs, legs quivering from arousal.

Without warning, she wraps her fist around him, surrounding the tip with her mouth, bobbing up and down in sync with her strokes. She starts slow, increasing the pace with each guttural moan that emits within his chest. The temptation to buck his hips into her warm, wet heat is tantalizing, but he reminds himself that she’s in control, which only turns him on more.

She uses her other hand to fondle his balls, causing him to swear loudly. “Fuck!”

He feels the vibration of her giggle through his cock, clearly enjoying the way she’s unravelling him, his orgasm approaching fast. “Can I please come?”

She shakes her head, still working his dick.

“Fuck. I can’t…I can’t hold it.”

She releases him from her mouth, stroking him, face close to his. “You think you deserve to come now?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes.”

“Apologize first.”

“Huh?”

“Apologize. Admit that you’re a fucking asshole.” She nibbles on his ear lobe, dragging it down between her lips, still jerking him off.

“I’m sorry. I’m a,” he chokes on his spit before he can finish. “Fucking asshole.”

“Tell me your desperate for it. That you need it.”

“Fuck, I’m so fucking desperate, I fucking need it. Please.”

“Good,” she whispers, pumping him faster. She kisses him on the lips, grip tight around him as his cock swells, hanging by a thread at the edge of his climax. “Go ahead. Come for me, Eren.”

At the sound of his name on her sultry lips, he does, hot cum shooting straight onto his t-shirt. “Fuck!” he yells, eyes shut tight, riding out one of the best orgasms of his life. She strokes him until his balls are completely drained. Finally, he opens his eyes to inspect the scene, shocked by the mess painted across the bottom of his shirt, spilling onto his abdomen.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, smiling at her.

She grins back at him. “Not bad, right?”

“Not bad at all. Really fucking good, actually.” He kisses her, fingers drifting down to her arousal, rubbing the fabric against her clit. “Come here. Let me eat this pretty pussy out. Please. I want it so bad.”

“Since you said it so nicely, I guess I can let you have a taste.”

~~~

You stand up, leaving room for him to lay down on the couch. He doesn’t need to be told. He expects you to ride that pretty face of his. When he’s flat on his back, shirt stripped off and completely naked, he turns to watch you slip out of your panties.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he praises, reaching down to rub his balls. “I think about this a lot, you know.”

You toss your underwear to the floor, watching him play with himself, removing your remaining clothes. “What do you think about?”

“This. You, naked in my apartment. Riding my face till you come. Fucking your wet pussy right after.”

“I guess tonight’s your lucky night,” you tease, lifting your knee across him, straddling his face.

“Yes, it is,” he replies, licking his lips, eyes wide with lust at your pussy above him, already wet with arousal. He cranes his neck upwards, tongue out, desperate for a taste.

“Not yet.” You lift up enough so he’s out of reach. “Watch me play with myself first.”

“Fuck,” he swears, salivating.

You wet your middle finger with your slick, rubbing circles around your clit. He watches in a daze, biting his lower lip, brows knit together in concentration, focused on you pleasuring yourself right above him. He squirms beneath you, thrusting his hips into the air, in an effort to feel anything. “Get it fucking juicy for me, baby. I want to fucking drown in it.”

The little nicknames you’ve grown accustomed to hating has a very different ring to it now. For the first time all semester, you don’t mind it. You actually like it. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair, redirecting his gaze on yours. “That’s right. I’m your baby. And what are you?”

He swallows hard. “I…I don’t know.”

“You’re my fuck toy.”

“Fuck yeah. I’m your fuck toy, baby. I’m your fuck toy. Use me, please.”

With your grip firm on his hair, you sink lower, your pussy pressed to his open mouth. He licks your clit, swiping his wide tongue over it, moving side to side. You moan at the glorious sensation, rocking your hips across his face to feel more. He latches onto your swollen bud, humming in pleasure as he suckles on it. His hips rut into nothing again, arms at his sides, clutching hard at the cushions, letting you be in total control. This power he gives you turns you on more than you imagined. Maybe because all semester, he always acted as if he had the upper hand. Knowing how desperate he is to be beneath you, to please you beyond any other desire he has, it only spurs you on.

You grind yourself on his face, the squelching noises indicating how sloppy he’s eating you out and how wet you’re becoming because of it. He’s relentless, alternating between licking, slurping, and sucking at your clit. You blissfully indulge in it until you climax on his tongue, bud over-stimulated, pussy soaked with his spit and your slick.

“Fuck,” he muffles, slurping the cum from your sleek entrance. Legs wobbly from your orgasm, you lift off him, shifting to reposition yourself comfortably on top. His cock is hard beneath you, sticky with his cum from earlier. Through shiny lips, he whines, “I’m so fucking hard again. Fuck me. Fuck me with that wet pussy.”

Reaching behind you, you align him with your slit, sinking down on his shaft. He lets out a gasp, “I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck.” Concerned, you attempt to lift off, but he shakes his head fervently. “Don’t. Please baby. Fuck me till I come. I need it. I need it.”

You ride him, bouncing your ass on his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He moans loudly, babbling filthy words from his needy mouth.

Use this cock, baby. Fuck me like a toy.

Make yourself come on this dick.

It’s all fucking yours. Take it, baby. Take it.

I’m all yours. I’m all yours.

You moan with him, another climax approaching. Grabbing his wrist, you guide him to your clit. He caresses your puffy bud with his fingers. “I’m going to come,” you whimper.

“Can I come with you, princess? Please, can I come inside you?”

You nod wordlessly, pumping him in and out of you faster as he rubs your clit relentlessly, determined to make you orgasm. When you cry out in ecstasy, he joins you. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming, baby.”

For the second time tonight, both of you come, this time together. He spills inside you, filling your cunt with his warm, creamy load as you coat his dick with yours. Your body is spent from the euphoria, throat dry from whining in pleasure, and your curiosity satiated. It’s a lie to say you’ve never imagined being fucked silly by Eren. No matter how much he annoyed you, irritated you, aggravated you, there were moments this semester when you thought about it. How good it would feel to ride him, fuck him dumb until he’s begging for release.

“I’m exhausted,” he giggles, limp on the couch, softening cock still inside you, wrapping you in a snug embrace.

“Me too.” You settle into his arms, relaxed and comfortable against his chest.

“Thank you,” he mutters, caressing your back tenderly. “Thank you.” He doesn’t elaborate, repeating it a few more times as he nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.

You cuddle together in a comfortable silence. “Sleep here tonight. I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear my clothes.”

Accepting his offer, the two of you start tidying, picking up strewn wardrobe from the floor, wiping away the sticky aftermath of sex. You hop in the shower, rinsing your bodies clean, exchanging passionate kisses while the water splashes you. After you dry off and brush your teeth, you change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers he lends you, jumping into the bed beside him. He smiles at you. “You look good in my clothes.”

You give him a smooch, getting yourself cozy under the covers. He spoons you, arm sliding over your waist, interlacing his fingers with yours. His breath is pleasantly warm on your neck. “I know we’re probably past this already, but I want to formally apologize. It wasn’t right the way I treated you, and I’m sorry. Genuinely.”

“Apology accepted,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry too. For saying anything that hurt you out of anger.”

“You don’t have to be. I deserved it.”

“Still, I’m sorry. And no one deserves that.”

“All is forgiven then.” He chuckles softly. “For two smart people, we sure are dumb.”

You laugh with him. “If only we were a tad bit smarter, we could have started this months ago.”

“Yeah," he says, nestling his face against your neck. "You’re right.”

Nothing else is said as the two of you drift into sleep. It’s nice, having closure on a previously volatile relationship. However, something else lingers after tonight. Another door opens, leading to the unknown. He confessed his true feelings for you. You didn’t have time to process it, too focused on settling your truce through sex. While there’s no doubt that you find him physically attractive, can you really move on from the past and give him a chance?

~~~

The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he decides to keep it that way, not wanting to disrupt this moment of peace. Not wanting to complicate it any further. He knows that this is the beginning and the end of whatever this fling is. She hasn’t reciprocated his feelings and he won’t pressure her to, not tonight. Maybe not ever. No matter how badly he wishes to see her again, keep in touch, make it official, he won’t ask that of her. At the end of the day, it’s his own fault for waiting too long, for being too late. Time has run out, and now he’s paying the price.

They stay in each other’s arms, Eren listening closely to the sound of her steady breathing. Cherishing how her fingers fit seamlessly in his, the small smile on her lips as she drifts into a tranquil slumber, the warmth and weight of her body against his.

The next morning, he wakes up, alone. If not for the stack of clothes he let her borrow folded neatly at the end of the bed, he would have thought last night’s events were all a dream. He vaguely recalls her waking up beside him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, sneaking out on her tippy toes at the crack of dawn. Still, he searches the apartment, calling out her name to no response.

Throughout the week, he’s constantly on the verge of texting her. He never goes through with it, though, scared to be rejected. Afraid of having the final memory of her be one of heartbreak.

As a last-ditch effort, he devises a plan. Eren hosts a party at his place to celebrate the upcoming graduation. He invites the Alpha Tau brothers, plus some sorority girls for good measure. However, his main objective is to invite her. He ends up sending a group text to his senior project team, casually informing them of his little gathering. Sasha and Connie both reply, announcing their attendance, but she doesn’t.

At the party, he tries not to think about her, distracting himself by socializing with the crowds of people already filling his apartment. When Connie and Sasha arrive together, he decides to try one more time before he consumes his sorrows away. After exchanging polite greetings with them, he asks, “Have you guys heard anything from her?”

“Nope. I don’t think she even texted back, right?”

Eren’s ready to reach for the closest container of booze he can find. The duo walks past him to enjoy the party while he remains standing, watching the door for another minute. Just as he’s about to turn his heel, he sees it open slowly.

She walks in, her favorite drink in hand, a happy expression on her face as soon as she spots him. In the background, someone yells out, “Eren! Tequila shots?”

Waving the familiar bottle at him, she smiles.

“Nah,” Eren responds, gazing at her with a grin. “I’m sticking with strawberry soju from now on.”

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

Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @belovedackerman @wtfiswrongwithme1

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren x fem!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #aot smut #strawberry soju

2K notes · View notes

writingmeraki · 3 months

Text

unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions.

a seventeen hip hop unit imagines !

IN WHICH, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.

(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)

pairing : svt!hiphop!unit x gn!reader, friend's crush!seungcheol, best friend's other best friend!wonwoo, rival's friend!mingyu, rockstar! vernon.

genre : angst, no comfort. ( for now )

warnings : mentions of injuries, inaccurate basketball terms, cussing, messy, heartbreak, contemplation, arguments, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed. ( not proofread ; we die like hyyh yoonkook )

author's note : i tried so hard to make gyu's messy but i just couldn't ( you'll find out ) these plots are soo random and specific pls but so funnn to write! also me uploading this much is trying to make up for very less updates for the last months of 2023. I missed milestones and I want to make up for those soon too! gahh anyways let me know what you think of these, im actually nervous abt this ngl ( also i just noticed soo much friend drama oof-)

VOCAL UNIT VER. | PERFOMANCE UNIT VER.

word count : 4.1k ( they are getting longer...)

ᯓ★ | seungcheol.

He was off limits.

From the moment you knew your best friend, Haewon, had a crush on him, he was not supposed to ever be in your radar of romantic boundaries as per the rules of being a best friend.

Seeing her going crazy for a boy like him at first really made you question if there was something wrong with you because you just couldn’t quite see it.

Sure he was literally the definition of tall, blonde and gorgeous. Sure he had adorable dimples that made him look less intimidating than you thought he initially was. Sure he was also the frat president as well as the captain of the soccer team making you wonder how he was able to still balance getting great grades.

Well. There was a slight possibility you could see what others saw.

Maybe even more when the time you tried to play wingman for Haewon at a party where you lost her because apparently she was looking for him but said guy turned up right beside you as you were contemplating on what would least likely not kill your liver if you had it resulting in having conversations about cherries ( you don’t even know ) and him trying to convince (gaslight) you into soccer being one of the greatest games of all time.

You didn’t get convinced but for the time it felt right to agree to what he said if it meant those adorable dimples would show up when you did.

You were so screwed.

Another thing Choi Seungcheol had was a great memory, because he seemed to remember you when he saw you walking down the hallway with Haewon as he smiled so widely at you in greeting.

“Haha yeah hey! um…This is Haewon by the way! Haewon, Seungcheol.” You had to nudge her to snap out of her daze and she extended her hand in greeting as he politely shook her hand.

“That reminds me, I forgot to ask you last night but uh can I have your-”

“Oh would you look at that! We’re getting late for class! I’m so sorry Seungcheol, we’ll have to leave!”

That moment you think you were so going to hell when you saw how quickly his smile fell and how his sparkly eyes dimmed down because it felt like you committed a sin then and there. You think you saved yourself from committing a sin but it didn’t feel less dreadful as you grabbed her hand and rushed as quickly as you could.

In the opposite direction of where your class was.

“WHAT WAS THAT-”

“Listen- when you were looking for him last night- I swear I don’t know how but he was right where I ended up sitting and he-well, we talked I suppose-?”

Her eyes widened at your words and you raised your hands in surrender,

“I promise I didn’t even know when he showed up, I tried to message you and even find you but you seemed gone until the moment we were leaving.”

“Plus the reason I didn’t tell you last night was I was tired! I was here trying to play wingman while the person in love was seemingly gone-”

She sighed and nodded at you, “You don’t have to explain, I know he’s not your type, you made that clear a lot of times actually it’s kinda hilarious.” She giggled as she recalled the countless times you chastised her for daydreaming about him. But now, you couldn’t stop the stupid tinge of bitterness in your heart.

Right. Not my type.

Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea struck her, “That’s it! He was gonna ask for your number right? You can try and set me up then!”

“I well- I don’t know-”

“Please! You know how I have been trying to get to know him even.”

You didn’t want to say it then but you thought about how trying meant actually doing something rather than just gazing from afar. At least become friends with him was the words you told her countless times but she paid no heed, retorting how it was not that easy.

But it was easy because what’s the worst that could happen? Him having a partner? So it wasn’t the end of the world, others existed!

Too bad you were easy to persuade, questionably easy because all it took were her doe eyes pleading at you to agree.

“Fine- I’ll try- but no promises.”

As she hugged you and squealed words of gratefulness to you, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it then but,

You didn’t understand why it felt a part of you couldn’t seem to share the same happiness, conceivably a lingering dread there that knew something was surely going to go wrong.

✮⋆˙ | wonwoo.

Everytime Jeon Wonwoo had the ever so unfortunate ( according to him ) time to exist in the same room as you, it seemed like an impending doom for him.

His heart felt weird, his stomach dropped, his throat parched.

He hated it.

He was an individual who knew what they wanted in life. Never unsure nor second guessing, always able to classify their emotions in proper ways. Systematic is the right word. Able to know what exactly he wants to do in his career, how to behave with his friends, when to be serious and when to have ‘fun’.

So what happens when you completely throw him off the rocks with your mere existence?

He hates you. That’s how he tags the emotions he feels when he sees you and what does hatred sprout? Indifference.

Too many questions asked but it’s what Wonwoo declares.

Though, he thinks the first mistake is to think he’d be able to avoid you considering the fact that you were his best friend/roommate’s good friend. Meaning you spent around twenty to twenty two hours at their place (Yes he counted) and he absolutely hated it.

He hated how your giggles would ring out in the entire apartment when Mingyu said a half-assed joke, it literally made his chest feel uneasy. He hated how your eyes would always twinkle when you would be talking to Mingyu, it made his stomach drop and sigh in disbelief.

Was Mingyu that oblivious to how much you liked him?

Now this was a question that made Wonwoo almost throw up. Odd.

“You know if you don’t make a move, he won’t even know right? I know you think he’s one of the smartest but in the romance field, I think even fucking Jihoon beats him at that.”

Or perhaps Wonwoo was just very oblivious to how much you liked him.

You shook your head at Mingyu’s words as you both walked up to his apartment, the butterflies in your stomach already churning at the thought that Wonwoo was likely home.

“And also it’s getting concerning how much time you spend in my apartment for the sake of him, like at this point just move in you creep—HEY!Ow!— that hurt you ass!”

“It’s not that easy,Gyu,he’s – he’s Wonwoo for God’s sake!”

“That’s exactly why it’s easy! It’s Wonwoo! Be direct with him. I’ve known him for years and trust me, he won’t know until you spit it out to him!”

Maybe…maybe he was right. Afterall he had been friends with Wonwoo before even knowing you.

“What if he doesn’t even feel the same–”

“Be serious. He literally looks like a lovesick fool when you’re over–”

“Maybe he’s just sick of me coming over.”

Mingyu stopped walking and you didn’t even realize until you were a few steps ahead. Pausing when you finally saw he wasn’t beside you.

His expression was like he was close to ripping out his hair from frustration while also being flabbergasted. It was kinda hilarious and you had to gulp to prevent laughing because you were sure he might just kill you.

“Okay! Okay, fine– I'll listen to you– maybe not confess today! But I'll ask if we can hangout or something,happy?”

“Very.”

You rolled your eyes at his words as you both began climbing up the stairs, telling him to shush with his teasing as the tips of your ears began to feel warm and the blood rushed to your cheeks with every scenario you imagined.

Maybe if you thought that the upcoming scenario would ever occur. it would have hurt less.

As you waited for Mingyu to pull out his keys, you could feel your nerves igniting through your skin and your stomach churning. But before Mingyu could insert the key, the door opened.

You wouldn’t have questioned anything, if it weren’t for the obvious messy hair, hickey marks trailing down her exposed neck and of course, the star of your daydreams right behind her, standing with a surprised face.

It was obvious what had occurred, the confirmation lying in the bruises on his neck.

“Woah–uh.” Mingyu stuttered awkwardly, and you could feel his sympathy as he glanced at you. You couldn’t think of anything else other than how…right you were and how wrong Mingyu was.

You didn’t know who she was but it wasn’t her fault. Or anyone’s. Maybe yours. So as a weird tension simmered through the air, you looked away from them and just turned to Mingyu.

And for the first time in his life probably, he was lost. Jeon Wonwoo was lost because why did he just feel like he committed a crime when he wasn’t even yours anyways?

He hated the way you looked away, not missing the hurt that flashed across your eyes as you realized what he probably was doing.

You didn’t even notice she’d already left, smiling at Wonwoo and signing him to call her back, again. Probably not the first time, you thought.

“Uh-Gyu- I’ll go now, It’s getting late for me anyways,”

You really tried to stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat making you want to choke and die then and there. So you just looked at Mingyu, purposefully ignoring the way he looked at you in sympathy.

His stare seemed to burn into your side profile. The words on the tip of his tongue, but what? It all felt like a lot but nothing at the same time. Wonwoo didn’t know what to say.

Nodding goodbye to Mingyu and glancing at Wonwoo, offering a tight lipped smile as you waved, and then without saying anything you turned around.

Mingyu frowned. His best friend couldn’t own up to his feelings for you and just when you were about to take a step forward, he somehow ended up fucking it up completely.

What a mess.

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Mingyu said seriously, putting an arm over Wonwoo’s shoulders, albeit a little forcefully which caused the other boy to almost stumble over.

It seemed it was now up to him now to sort out this mess and hopefully it doesn’t get worse from here.

✩₊˚. | mingyu.

Being the new captain of the basketball team had its perks. Sure, you now officially got tagged as a ‘jock’, a title in itself that held its own benefits, probably more than just when you were another player in the team.

But its disadvantages seemed more at the moment when you found yourself under the angered gaze of none other than Yoon Jiwoo. Another player of the basketball team. Shooting guard was the position.

By all means, it wasn’t your fault she was not captain, it was her own actions that did not get her the position. And plus, it wasn’t like it was bad not being a captain, Yeri was a small forward, yet probably the best one at it. So it was at the end of the day, nothing to you but just more responsibilities with the title.

Plus, it was also voted by the rest of the players that you deserved to be captain this time when it was time to appoint a new captain. Jiwoo had been a captain before Lisa became that year, but she left and so there had to be a new choice made.

With Jiwoo’s unfair hatred towards you, also came a similar animosity from her group of friends. Well you think Jiwoo wants them to share the same feelings as she does but you doubt they care enough, usually neutral towards you or sympathetic even as they tried to reason her animosity being useless.

They were five or six if you could remember correctly from the times they’d drop her to practice or come to pick her up sometimes. Apparently one of them was her cousin Yoon Jeonghan and you could surely see the similarities in them from the way unrealistically attractive they both looked.

But the one that stuck out most to you was Kim Mingyu. Her best friend. And the one who supposedly hated you the most, after her that is.

Then why did he feel anything but hate? He couldn’t stop looking at you during your practice when he stuck around to wait for Jiwoo, as if in a trance as his gaze remained on you.

He couldn’t stop the way his heart sped up when you grinned so widely as you scored, tackling your teammate in a hug. Why was he suddenly envious of the people who got to experience your joy?

In his defense, he liked you way before you were even captain. It was probably since the day he first saw you try for the teams and he thinks it was fate that he got to stumble onto you that one sunny afternoon.

You were nervous for your trials and he was nervous from the way your hair prettily rested on your cheeks and made you almost glow in the sun. Yeah, he was convinced it was love at first sight.

Though he feels liking his best friend’s rival was…confusing. He didn’t know if he could take a side or if he should even question taking a side.

“You pushed them on purpose Jiwoo!” Yeri yelled at her as she held you upright. You couldn’t even make out some of the words as you focused on the pain shooting up your ankle from the way it twisted.

“We all saw it, stop acting like you did nothing!”

“Exactly, you have this weird hate boner for them since you couldn’t get your stupid captain title!”

You were sure the first voice was Chaewon while the other was Yeri.

“Why are you all ganging up on me? It wasn’t on purpose! Ask-ask someone else as well!” Her voice got louder and louder as she finished her sentence. She didn’t expect people to take your side. Although her plan was just a little shove to keep you off balance as she got the ball in her hand, she did not expect you to twist your ankle completely.

“It’s fine- just- just leave it. It was a mistake, I just-” Your words were cut off as you hissed out in pain again as you attempted to get up, only to tumble down again, luckily held up by Yeri and Chaewon.

They sat you down on the bench as they huddled around you in a panic. You pulled off your shoes, scrunching your nose from the smell but the pain quickly took your focus from that.

“Hey! What’s going on?” You heard someone say as they entered, their voice familiar to you. Mingyu had come to pick up Jiwoo as usual, not knowing she left sneakily when they were focused on you, when he saw everyone huddled together, confused when he couldn’t see you amongst the first few he saw.

He didn’t need to peek over due to his well…giant form, but he saw you sat down in the middle as he got closer, caressing your leg. His eyes widened when he saw your ankle swollen up and an angry red shade that was definitely not natural.

“Shit that looks bad.” You looked up and you swore you thought you were hallucinating. Because no way was Kim Mingyu out of everyone looking at you with nothing but worry and concern. He still looked…good. As always. Per usual. You think you got distracted from your pain for just a minute as you stared at him for a few seconds, him seemingly not noticing as he kept his eyes on your ankle.

“Blame your girlfriend.” Yeri scowled as she spitefully retorted, as Chaewon dug her elbow into her side to which she yelped and glared at her.

“Girlfriend?” He turned his attention towards her, resembling a confused puppy as he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeri.” You spoke up firmly before she could say anything, looking at her with a look that told her to keep her mouth shut,not wanting to make this a bigger scene than it already was. She sighed and rolled her eyes, ultimately not saying anything.

You moved your leg around for a bit, deciding you should give it a go again to stand up, and drag yourself to the infirmary. And when you did stand up, it seemed you really overestimated yourself or perhaps underestimated your injury because next thing you knew you lost balance again.

But lucky for you, instead of landing right on the wooden floors and having a blistered lip, you landed right on Kim Mingyu. It only occurred to you now just how much taller than you he was when his whole form almost engulfed you.

“Woah. Take it easy, you’ll get hurt more.” He had wrapped one hand on your waist while the other held your arm. You think his touch burnt you more than anything because you felt yourself begin to warm up.

“How about I take you to the infirmary? Sorry I didn’t say it sooner, I was just confused on what Yeri said and-”

“It’s-uh-it’s fine- I’ll go by myself-”

“Are you crazy?! You can’t even stand!”

You blinked, taken aback by his words, even more so with just how concerned he seemed,his eyes glistening with it.

Kim Mingyu was someone you thought you knew but apparently you did not because a few minutes later, you found yourself being piggy-backed by him to the infirmary as he was scolding you about taking better care of yourself.

You tried to reason that Yeri and Chaewon would take you but they both were adamant on Mingyu taking you, while they would go and look for a certain someone ( You prayed they would not be kicked out of the team).

His grip on your thighs, his shampoo that you could smell, his shoulders that were just so…so broad you couldn’t even fully wrap your arms around them…just him felt so overwhelming. Your pain was long forgotten as you tried not to freak out over how you were currently feeling over him.

But with the way he seemed, the way he acted, was it wrong to assume that perhaps, there was a possibility these feelings weren’t so one-sided?

Well, only one way to find out.

₊˚⊹⋆ | vernon.

They say people shine their best when they are in their element doing what they love. But to you, Chwe Vernon shone even in the dimmest lights as he sat down in front of you.

It was just a few minutes before their gig. Him and his friends ; Jungkook, Mingyu and Eunwoo from what you remember, were all a part of an upcoming rock band. They were actually gaining more fame as time passed and you were proud to be one of the few who witnessed their growth from the beginning.

They began from your small bar right in the downtown area where you worked as a bartender, you remembered their first performance, you were told it was their first gig actually. Now they are close to being signed up by a company, still wanting to perform one last time at the place where it all began.

To you, he was the boy you’d always admire from afar, knowing there was no actual probability of him seeing you in that light. Even now, considering their gaining fame, you’d see the type of people that would swoon over him, even a few celebrities and models you remember.

He was…a star. Far away and admirable but never in your reach. And stars are better to admire than seek anyways.

Though, it seemed your star wasn’t that far away from you as you thought. In fact he was much closer to you than you could even comprehend.

In other words, Chwe Vernon was head over heels from you. Since the first time he performed and spotted you when you were busy serving drinks, since the time you told him how great they performed as he sat down in front of you while you talked about what interested you, your eyes gleaming under the dim bar light. And he thinks it was very much obvious what felt when he saw your wide grin, dimples poking out as you finally served him his drink.

Whisky wasn’t something he liked, but you had recommended a certain combination with it and he thinks nothing else tasted sweeter that day.

Sadly everyone around you but you saw that. Too focused on how you weren’t ever going to be a possibility because you thought he was just unattainable instead of thinking of the probability of just how much he may have liked you.

“Nervous?” You smiled at him as you finished setting up the remaining glasses for the night, ready to serve knowing it would be a very busier night than usual due to them performing.

Yes, yes he was nervous but not because of performing but because he was about to confess.

“Haha- yeah- no! I mean uhm no- we’re- we’ll be fine.” He wanted to cuss at himself for stuttering, probably looking foolish, but he thought it was fine when he heard your giggle as you shook your head.

“Oh you are. You’re already the best and I assume and hope it’ll only get better from now on.”

With you. It would get better with you because anything feels better with you.

He wishes he could say it out loud, but maybe soon enough. That is if you don’t reject him. Yeah he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you do. Throw up probably. Or die. Dying seems good actually, he thinks.

“Vernon? Here.” He snapped out of his thoughts as he blinked, looking down at the drink in front of him, confused because he didn’t order anything.

“On the house, from me. It’s my favorite drink actually. I-uh hope you like it.” He thinks even if you served him garbage he’d still be delighted, extreme but meh it was close to how he fell for you. Extreme and down bad.

“Oh then I’ll love it for sure.” Because I love you.

Your grin grew wider as you were about to say something, you heard your name being called by your co-worker.

“Oh- I’m sorry I have to go now! I’ll be here when you perform for sure! Good luck!”

“It’s okay, you’ll be here afterward.”

You looked at him apologetically as he shook his head, knowing you were just doing your job and nodding to you to go, to which you waved goodbye at him.

Perhaps you really underestimated your own words because apparently you couldn’t make it there. You were called by your mother who had gotten sick at home and needed someone to take care of her.

You thought about whether you should inform Vernon but figured it wouldn’t be too much of a big deal, telling your co-worker to let him know in case he asked afterwards but you doubt he would, probably exhausted after the long night. You forgot your co-worker was switching shifts mid-way with another one, one who would obviously not know your whereabouts.

And now as he got ready to sing the song he’d written for you, for you with very obvious lyrics about you, the moments with you, he searched for you but…you were nowhere.

You weren’t there.

Did you find out? Did you know? Did you think it was too much?

All the questions arose in his mind as he shut his eyes and breathed in to calm himself. He couldn’t lose his cool on stage when there were so many fans waiting for him to perform.

He looked at his bandmates, and shook his head, not wanting to look at them again as they looked at him sympathetically.

“That’s it for tonight! We hope you continue supporting us in the future! Have a goodnight Seoul!”

He said and this time as he felt anything but content, his heart heavier than ever and mind in a haze.

Maybe in this lifetime, you’d both remain two separate stars. Far and never-crossing.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

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ada7201 · 5 months

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bllk boys …

with a clutz s/o! < hcs >

gn! reader, mention of a heel in Kaiser’s part, (i tried to make it sound like it could be a high heel or a normal shoe heel)

★ part 1 with, Kaiser, Barou, Kunigami, Chigiri

⭢ ★ part 2 with, Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Reo

⭢ ★ part 3 with, Rin, Sae, Shido, Aiku

Michael Kaiser

he fucking loves your clumsiness.

finds it extremely amusing to watch you stumble and trip over every time you both take what was supposed to be a nice and calm walk

he’ll help you up … if he feels like it.

depending on his mood, he might even catch you.

he wouldn’t like to see his cute clumsy baby fall and hurt themself, would he?

the first time you revealed your secret… talent, to him, was on your first date. (good job on hiding it until then!)

you and Kaiser were both sat down at a restaurant of his choice, the warm lighting illuminating your beautiful face. his sharp blue eyes watched as you ever so gently picked up a fork, ready to poke it into the steak - before you paused.

“um, Kaiser?” you’d ask, voice slightly timid.

“yes?” he responded, an eyebrow raised at your sudden pause.

“i might need to go to the washroom. is that alright?” you said politely, placing your fork back down. Kaiser’s eye twitched, before he nodded, a passive-aggressive smile on his face. how dare you, a mere speck of dirt, even think about leaving at such a time? a shame that you were so gorgeous.

“thank you.” you responded, cautiously pushing your chair away to stand up - unaware of Kaiser’s foot creeping towards your chair in attempt to trip you - but before his plan could work, the heel of your shoe broke, causing you to fall to the floor. in the middle of the restaurant. Kaiser’s eyes widened, shocked at how quickly you had fallen. did his plan really work? he didn’t feel you with his foot - wait, he didn’t cause that fall. before you could get up, Kaiser was already chuckling about how you had fallen over so stupidly in front of him. maybe on the next date you’ll fall the same way? (spoiler alert: you did!)

as anyone would, he sometimes gets annoyed by your constant clumsiness - and has temper tantrums.

of course, he’ll “apologise” later by cuddling you so you won’t be able to trip over anything. definitely not because he wanted to hug you…

he babies you whenever he’s not in a pissy mood, such as making sure you’re okay - sometimes even handing you a plaster for a cut you had managed to give yourself.

he fucking HATES it when others laugh at you.

like, i’m saying he will literally make a huge scene, bigger than the one you caused, just to get that person to apologise to you for laughing.

Barou Shouei

sometimes loves it, and sometimes hates it.

for example, he’d be busy mopping the floor, and you’d run in to tell him something - before falling flat on your face.

“hey!-“ you exclaimed, dashing towards the kitchen where your husband was doing something. what, exactly? you weren’t paying attention to that. you just had to update him on the workplace drama you’ve just heard abou-

“ack!” you coughed, feeling your body connect with the cold, wet, tile floor of the kitchen. Barou just stood there, a deadpan expression on his face as he watched you fall. he had to think for a moment about what his next words would be.

“are you… okay?” he’d ask hesitantly, resting the mop he was holding against the countertop. his eyebrow raised as he leaned over to look at your body, sprawled out on the floor. he just cleaned that spot.

“mmph…” you would groan, sitting up and looking around. your gaze fell on Barou, and you immediately hopped up - as if you didn’t just fall onto the floor with one of the loudest “thud’s” Barou had ever heard.

“Hi babe!” you beamed, a warm smile on your pretty face as you scrambled to Barou, unaware of the bruise that has started to form on your cheekbone.

Barou sighed. How could he ever be mad at you?

he really tries, keyword - tries to be patient, but sometimes your ability to somehow trip over everything scares him. how can you fall over a fucking washcloth?

was very confused the first time you broke something, he was like “what is this person doing?”

overtime, he got used to it.

he sometimes remembers the time you tripped up a little at your wedding. if it wasn’t for your dad, (or father figure) you would’ve fell on your face for the nth time that week.

he loves you, but can’t help but laugh sometimes when you trip.

he does, however, find it irritating when you somehow manage to knock over a cup, or glass and break it - letting the contents spill all over the floor. (he had a tantrum afterwards.)

you’re his sweet, but clumsy lover, so he can let it slide every once in a while.

Rensuke Kunigami

(before wild card)

you make him really nervous.

the poor boy is always kept on his toes around you

he makes sure to keep an eye on you, so he can always catch you before you fall or trip

he feels bad whenever you fall or do something silly

he finds your little slip-ups endearing, however.

because that’s how the two of you met!

you were rushing down the street, the clicking of your shoes loud against the pavement as you made your way. the walkway was pretty full, with a lot of people walking down - not as rushed as you. suddenly, you heard a cat or something make a sound, causing you to turn your head quickly, but before you could look back… you felt yourself start to fall!

“ah-“ you squeaked, eyes closing in preparation for impact. but it never came…?

“are you alright?” a deep voice asked from behind you, followed by a pair of large, warm hands resting on your waist.

“y-ep! in a rush!” you said shyly, a blush on your cheeks as you held your hands to your chest. this was really embarrassing!

the unknown person straightened your posture, and pat your shoulder- rather gently.

“oh, and thank you!” you said quickly - turning around to face the person.

you were met with the face of a beautiful boy. suddenly, your meeting didn’t matter anymore.

“can i have your number?” you asked the orange haired man, lips parted in awe.

he likes to have you with him when he’s training - but all he asks is that you don’t touch anything

we can’t have another incident where you break a piece of equipment…

he’s gentle with the way he handles you, he wouldn’t want to trip you over - you’re already good enough at that.

if you break something, he’s quick on buying materials to fix it.

like, you had just broken your favourite necklace. the next evening, Kuni has the same necklace that you had snapped in his hands - as good as new.

Hyoma Chigiri

this is a little obvious, but he’s very quick to help you up or catch you

but, like kuni, you make him really nervous.

he hates to see you sad whenever you break something of his! so he tries his hardest to always say things like “it’s alright”

he prefers to have you sitting (still) near him whenever he’s doing his nightly and morning routines, so he can keep an eye on you. (he also just wants you to be around him)

he won’t admit it, but he sometimes likes to play with the way you’re so clumsy

you both were walking outside at the park, the cold winter breeze fanning against your skin, even with the sun burning so brightly the sky. Chigiri looked over to you, watching as you happily skipped along the walkway - until your eyes land on a park. you’re quick to grab his hand and drag him to the playground.

“let’s go to the… swings!” you’d exclaim with a smile, running towards the swings.

he was following after you quickly, chuckling at your eagerness. his expression fell as he watched you lose your footing - again. with a loving smile, he gently yanked your hand, pulling your figure towards himself - stopping you from falling on your face, so you instead fell into him.

he secretly takes videos and photos of you if you’ve fallen over, or when you’ve accidentally broken something - or maybe that time you accidentally choked yourself with the ribbon you were trying to wrap a present with.

when he first met you, he thought that it was your shoes that made you fall so much, so he bought you a new pair of shoes.

he felt really guilty when you kept falling, and thought that he got you a bad pair :’(

if you hurt yourself, like if you accidentally cut yourself, maybe got a bruise, and things like that - he always makes sure to give the spot where you’re hurt a kiss.

he says that it’s a “magic kiss”

#michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #barou shouei #barou x reader #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock #kaiser x you #barou x you #kunigami x you #chigiri x you

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fanficimagery · 10 months

Text

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part Three of Three]

Author's Note: Y'all remember Elena's dress when she went to the party at the Mikaelson's? I think it was black and gold? Well anyway, that's what YN's dress is gonna be like except it's black and maroon. I'm totally unoriginal lol. The fight is totally anti-climatic and the end just… ends. I was so ready to end this. I'm sorry.

Words: 7.2K

The only good thing about your upcoming party is that Rebekah's completely taken over all the planning. She's recruited Elijah since he's the easiest to talk to between her brothers, leaving Klaus at the mansion with you and the boys. David and Dwayne love to hear about the history Klaus has seen, whereas Paul and Marko love hearing about all things chaotic and bloody.

You're all lounging around the sitting area as Klaus fills in your friends on the drama he caused when he first waltzed in Mystic Falls from his point of view when the front door opens and closes.

"YN. Gilbert."

"Uh oh. Someone's in trouble." Marko giggles.

You flip him off and then turn towards the archway where yet another blonde marches through. "Hello to you too, Caroline. It's rude not to knock, you know?"

She huffs. "Oh shut up. We've all tried ki-" She immediately shuts up herself, taking stock of the new faces in the room. But she's Caroline Forbes, so she rolls with it, easily lying. "We've all tried sabotaging each other multiple times. There's no need to knock between friends."

You and Klaus both smirk, but don't call her out on it.

"Whatever," she grumbles. "I just came over to demand why you didn't tell me you were planning a party?! You know I love planning parties."

"I don't even want this party, Care, but Paul and Marko are all about seeing what type of parties I had to attend when I was younger."

At her pout and look of indifference between your friends, you quickly introduce them to each other. All the boys politely greet her and she them, and it hardly takes her a moment to deduce who your boyfriend is.

"So you're the boyfriend?" Her eyes narrow at Dwayne. "Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask.

"It means you have a type. Dark hair, broody looking…"

Klaus chuckles. "She's not wrong, love."

"You're both annoying," you deadpan. Then glancing back at Caroline, you ask, "Is that all you came over for? To demand why you're not part of the party planning committee?"

"Yes. And to see if you already have a dress all picked out."

"I do. Rebekah had a bunch of dresses delivered and I chose one. You want to see what's left on the rack?"

"Yes, please! I hate shopping last minute."

You grin and walk over to Caroline, hooking your arm with hers. "Let's go upstairs then." Looking at Klaus and the boys, you wink. "If there's trouble you want to get into before Elijah comes home, now is the time to do it. Caroline and I are long overdue for some girl talk."

"You heard her, boys, let's go." Klaus downs the rest of his drink before settling the tumbler aside and then standing up. Marko and Paul cheer, shoving at each other as Dwayne and David casually climb to their feet.

Everyone except Dwayne makes their way out and then he walks up to you. "Need anything?"

"No, I'm good, but thanks." He nods before leaning in to kiss your forehead, cheek, and finally your lips.

You're laughing as you shove him away, eyes twinkling. He returns your smile before nodding at Caroline and turning to go catch up with his brothers and Klaus.

As soon as he's out of earshot, Caroline gushes, "Oh my god, that was so adorable! Where did you even find him?!"

"In his hometown." You chuckle and then lead her towards the stairs so you can show her the dresses in your room. "I actually met Paul and Marko first, but when I met Dwayne.. it was like love at first sight." You smile as you remember meeting the dark haired vampire for the first time. "We kind of tortured everyone else with the 'will they or won't they' schtick, so it became public knowledge that we were both off limits."

"What changed?"

Getting bit by a werewolf, you mentally admit, but can't say that out loud. Not yet. So instead, you choose something that's easily believable because the scenario really did happen. "After missing a day of hanging out with them, some girls decided to move in. When I decided to surprise them one night, one girl was standing too close to Dwayne, so I walked right up to him and kissed him."

"You didn't!?"

"I did." You laugh. "And then Elijah and Klaus visited, informing me that Elena was getting impatient that I hadn't come back to Mystic Falls to make sure I was really okay."

"Oh so you'll let Klaus know where you now live, but not us?"

When you glance at Caroline, you notice she's not truly upset about it. "Yes because Klaus won't drag me back to Mystic Falls the moment something inconveniences Elena's life."

Your friend winces, but doesn't refute your words.

In your room, you walk to your closet while Caroline walks to the rack of dresses that's in the opposite corner. You grab the dress bag, pull it out and unzip it to show your friend. "Anyway, this is what I'm wearing." The strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline is maroon with a fitted bodice covered in black beads and black ribbons right beneath your bust. The skirt slightly flares out with an overlay of black tulle so the maroon still peeks out.

Caroline sighs. "This is so pretty. Is your boyfriend matching?"

You laugh as you zip the bag back up and put it away. "I'm pretty sure Elijah will get him a matching pocket square or something."

"So he's got Elijah's stamp of approval?"

"I think so."

"Sounds serious." She turns back to the rack, moving aside dress after dress. "Is he the reason you're staying where you're staying?"

"No. I was already planning on staying there. Dwayne was a surprise, but a welcomed one."

Caroline glances at you. "Ohhh, you're in deep. Look at that smile."

You purse your lips, having been smiling without knowing you were smiling. But seeing as she's already seen it, you give up and laugh. "Ugh, this is gonna sound stupid, but remember when I said seeing Dwayne was like love at first sight? Do you believe in that?"

Your friend freezes and then fully turns to face you. "Spill. Now."

You groan again and head over to your bed, dropping down on the edge. "When I first met Dwayne, it was no shock that I instantly found him attractive. What was a shock, however, is how jealous and protective I am of him. We haven't even known each that long to warrant such loyalty, but when Damon threatened Dwayne… Caroline, I saw red. I wanted to rip Damon's heart out right then and there."

"Hmm. That is weird. You've never been one to get worked up over a guy. You usually just shrug it off and move on."

"I know!"

"And how does Dwayne feel?"

"I'm assuming the same. Damon pinned me to the wall by my throat and Dwayne saw, and he was visibly shaking. I could see it took everything in him to hold himself back and then when I got back to the table, his hand gripped my thigh and didn't move until we stood up to leave."

"How insane would it be if it turned out that soulmates were real?" You laugh. "I'm serious! Ugh, you're so lucky. I wish I had someone who looked at me the way Dwayne looks at you."

"You do have someone who looks at you like that, but you refuse to entertain him because you're afraid of what everyone else will think."

Caroline frowns. "He hurt us. A lot."

"So did Damon, but that didn't stop Elena from jumping on his dick."

The blonde vampire grimaces. "I rather not think about that."

"Mhmm."

"Now will you help me choose a dress?"

Without even glancing at the rack, you say, "Go with the blue one that looks like mine, but has off the shoulder straps. You always look good in blue."

The day before your party, Rebekah had the ballroom completely transformed. You had happily stayed out of her way, listening to her bark orders from the comfort of your room. Dwayne and David took refuge with you, purposely not saying a word to their brothers as they wandered downstairs and got roped into lending a helping hand. And with Rebekah barking orders, Paul and Marko stayed in line.

Then the morning of your party, Rebekah had even taken it upon herself to have a buffet of breakfast ready for everyone. Marko practically salivated at the sight of the food, mentioning that they'd never eaten like kings and queens before. David then reminded him that they never had the appetite for human food quite like they have now after wrapping the bracelets around their wrists, and Marko conceded while stuffing his face with sausage and eggs.

You don't get to rest long after eating, Rebekah whisking you away to bathe and pamper before getting ready for the night. You end up in a bath with so many essential oils and salts that you nearly doze off, but Dwayne enters the bathroom and decides he wants to wash your hair.

Rebekah enters the bathroom when she hears you groan, only to huff and cross her arms over her chest. "Why are you two disgustingly adorable? Stop it right now."

With your head tilted back and Dwayne's fingers scratching against your scalp, you grin. "Shut up. If our positions were switched, you'd be smug as hell right now. Let me enjoy this."

"I'm honestly surprised he's not in there with you."

"And have your brothers glare at me throughout the party?" Dwayne asks. "No thanks."

"Fair." Rebekah continues to watch you with a fond smile on her face. "Well when you get out, Dwayne can help David wrangle his other brothers while you and I get ready in my room."

"Okay."

Dwayne finishes washing your hair before you stand, uncaring that your body is bare beneath the suds. He watches as you scrub your body down in the shower before grabbing a towel and handing it to you. Then after wringing out your hair and drying your body, you use the towel to wrap around your hair before taking the offered robe to drape around your body.

"Thank you." You reach up on the tips of your toes, giving him a chaste kiss. "Now it's your turn. I'll be with Rebekah and most likely won't see you until the start of the party."

"Mmm. Have fun." Dwayne kisses you once more and then pats you on the butt as you walk on by.

You're still smiling as you enter Rebekah's room, laughing when she's waiting for you with a champagne glass nearly filled to the brim. "Happy birthday, darling."

"Thank you, Rebekah." You accept the glass, clink it against the one she produces herself, and then proceed to down it in one go. "Now can I nap?"

"No."

You groan as Rebekah leads you to her vanity, making you sit.

. .

Rebekah starts on your hair first, making sure to detangle it and then spritz various hair products into it. She leaves out a couple of strands on either side of your head to frame your face and then loosely braids the rest of it to hang over your left shoulder. She sprays your hair again to make sure the hairdo holds, and then gets started on your makeup.

The make-up is kept mostly natural and nude, the only color being a hint of blush on your cheekbones, smokey black eyeshadow, and black eyeliner. Throughout the entire time, your phone was dinging with text messages from your family and friends, and you took the time to thank each of them.

Taking a break, Rebekah has sandwiches and fruit delivered to the room via Elijah, and it isn't long until Klaus shows up with presents with the rest of the boys trailing him. The Mikaelson's give you jewelry and money, a proper camera to capture the sights you see, and a brand-new laptop to edit and post the photos. You thank them profusely and even assure Dwayne, David, Paul, and Marko that you hadn't been expecting gifts from them so they can stop with the guilty expressions.

Then after kicking out the men from the room, you get started on Rebekah's hair and make-up. With her instruction, you get everything done pretty well.

When the time comes to finally step into your dress, you shamelessly drop your robe and step into a pair of panties. Rebekah holds your dress low for you and you step into it while she slides it up your body. Then after arranging your breasts to fill the cups, Rebekah zips you up.

Rebekah can only smile as she helps you don your newest necklace and bracelet, and then quickly dresses herself in a dress similar to yours, except the colors are black and gold. Plus, she dons a pair of black satin gloves as well.

"Well don't you two look beautiful."

You turn around to find Dwayne decked out in a suit with a maroon pocket square to match you. He has a few thin braids on one side of his head, only for all of his hair to be tied back in a stylish messy man-bun. "Holy shit." You look him up and down, licking and biting your bottom lip as you try to reign in your spiraling thoughts.

"Down girl," Rebekah muses, patting your shoulder. "It sounds like your guests are starting to arrive, so there's no use in messing up all the hard work I've done."

"Yeah, yeah. Get out." Rebekah laughs as you shoo her out of her own room, bidding Dwayne good luck as she passes him. He steps further into the room, and you readily accept him as he goes toe to toe with you. You lean up and kiss him. "You look handsome."

"It's all thanks to Elijah and Klaus. They really know how to style the riffraff."

You chuckle and kiss him once more. "So, how's it looking down there?"

"Marko and Paul are regretting the fancy suits, but David's keeping them well in line. And Klaus has already plied us with several blood bags each so we're not feeling peckish around your guests."

You sigh. "I think I should have indulged in a little blood myself. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

"Come on. It won't be that bad."

"Famous last words."

Dwayne smirks. "Let's go greet your guests."

Looping your arm around Dwayne's, you rely on him to get down the grand staircase. And by the time you make it to the main floor, Caroline is arriving on the arm of her mother.

"Caroline! Sheriff Forbes!" You greet them with smiles and kisses to the cheek. "I'm happy you two could make it."

"Likewise." Sheriff Forbes smiles before warily glancing around. "When I got the invitation, I wasn't aware if the party was legit or if the Mikaelson's were up to no good again."

"I can see why you would think that," you say. "But when it comes to me, the Mikaelson's are family."

"But Elena-"

"Mom." Caroline politely nudges her, shaking her head.

Sheriff Forbes closes her mouth and takes a breath. Then smiling sadly, she says, "You never forgave her for the… attack on you and Caroline," she says while glancing at Dwayne.

"Oh. I'm sorry!" You say. "Liz, this is Dwayne. My boyfriend." Sheriff Forbes and Dwayne smile at one another, shaking hands. "And I forgave my sister for that a long time ago," you assure her. "What I don't care for is the way she and Damon treat me or my friends whenever something doesn't go to their liking. They don't take others' feelings into consideration."

Sheriff Forbes smiles tightly, nodding. "Fair enough."

"Well, happy birthday!" Caroline chirps. "Now point us to the food so we can get out of your hair."

Laughing, you're about to tell Caroline where she and her mother can find the food when you spot Bonnie and your brother coming up behind them. "Uh, Dwayne will show you," you tell her. "He's gotta check on his brothers anyway and make sure Klaus isn't getting them in trouble."

And without missing a beat, Dwayne detaches himself from you and offers his arm to Liz as he dips his head in politeness. "Ladies, if you'll follow me."

Dwayne ends up with a Forbes woman on each arm and you smile as he leads them towards the food. Then turning back towards the door, your smile widens as you accept a hug from Bonnie. "Hey! Long time no see." Bonnie is stunning in her own black and silver dress, and Jeremy surprisingly fills out his suit. Then again, he's been rather buff ever since he became a hunter. "Jer, you're looking muscular. Kill anything lately?"

"Ha. Ha," he deadpans while hugging you. "And you look good as well. I didn't expect…"

"Yeah, yeah. You didn't expect me to be alive and thriving just because of the Mikaelson's and blah, blah, blah." Both Bonnie and Jeremy chuckle, and you nudge them towards the party.

More people show up- Tyler, Elena, Damon, Enzo, Alaric plus his date, and several other locals that you hadn't seen for a while. You greet each and every one, thanking them for showing up and wishing them a good time.

Rebekah pulls you away from the door when it seems like no one else is showing up, leading you towards the bottom of the staircase where her brothers are waiting. Both Mikaelson men smile as you approach, but Rebekah leads you a few steps further up the staircase before telling you to stay put before joining her brothers.

You're confused, but no one says anything. Dwayne and his brothers are lined up just across from the Mikaelson's, each of them holding a champagne flute. Elijah, being the more diplomatic Mikaelson, calls for everyone's attention. And as a crowd gathers, you're not very surprised when the hired help walks around with platters full of champagne flutes to pass out to everyone.

"Thank you, everyone, for attending on such short notice," Elijah says as the gathered guests fall quiet. "Miss Gilbert has been off traveling the world and seeing everything this life has to offer, so we weren't sure she would be back in time for her birthday. Luckily for us, she decided to visit with some new friends of hers."

Paul whoops and you shake your head at him, grinning.

"So let us raise our glasses," everyone follows Elijah's lead as he raises his glass in a toast, "and wish Miss Gilbert a very happy birthday and safe travels when she no doubt leaves us all behind again." Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah turn, grinning. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Happy birthday!" The crowd then cheers.

You smile bashfully, nodding your thanks to those whose gazes you catch before walking down the stairs. Rebekah hugs you whereas her brothers kiss each of your cheeks, and then Dwayne takes hold of your arm while leading you to the main room.

Immediately, the humming and clapping of Hozier's Work Song fills the air, and Dwayne leads you to the center of the room before turning to face you. As he takes a step back and then bows at the waist, your eyes light up. "You dance?"

"Obviously. Don't you?" As you grab the skirt of your dress and curtsey, you can't help but laugh. "And besides, the birthday girl has to open her own party with the first dance."

"I'm pretty sure that's not a thing, but I'll take it." You and Dwayne step forward and then back, close to touching but not. He raises his hands, palms out, and you laugh some more as you hold your own palms just an inch from his as you walk in a circle. "Who told you about this dance?"

"Rebekah might have mentioned something about a pageant this little town holds and the dances forced upon you."

Dwayne then takes you in his arms and the two of you sway back and forth before he's gently pushing you out and then bringing you in on a twirl. The smile never leaves your face, not even when you can hear his brothers ribbing him.

Halfway through the dance, others join you. Dwayne's dancing skills make him that much more attractive to you and you let him know when you can't keep your lips to yourself.

The party goes on and you make your rounds while on Dwayne's arm. You introduce him to everyone you know, talk about the places you've been with some curious individuals, but refrain from mentioning where you met Dwayne in case others were listening in.

You eat and drink and dance some more, and all in all it's a good time.

Until it isn't.

Elena hadn't said much to you other than wish you a happy birthday, so you're resigned to hearing her out when she asks for a moment of your time when the party starts winding down.

She leads you to an empty room just down the hall and turns to face you with a frown. "So, you're leaving again?"

"What?"

"Elijah's speech. He said you were going to travel again."

"Oh. Maybe." You shrug. "I still need to find a house and set down roots before I start taking trips again."

"Your house is here!" She says, hurt lacing her tone. "Why are you so dead set on getting away from me?"

"Elena," you say softly. "I love you. I do! But I can't be here anymore. I'm so over the drama where you somehow manage to be ground zero for it all. I'm tired of being hounded by Damon for not jumping when he says jump and I'm just- I'm over it. You have your life and I have mine. You don't have to like it, but you will accept it."

Done with the conversation, you turn to rejoin the party, only for your sister's words to make you freeze. "Jenna would be so upset to see you so chummy with her murderer."

There's a gasp from the door and you realize the others have followed. Bonnie, Caroline, Damon, Stefan, Alaric, Dwayne, David, Paul, Marko, Rebekah, Klaus, and Elijah have all entered the room and you have no idea how you and Elena didn't sense the big group sooner.

The group from Mystic Falls knew how close you were to Jenna and how hurt you were over Klaus killing her, but they didn't know about Klaus' apology months later when you started having dinners with Elijah. It wasn't an easy apology to accept, but he promised to make it up to you for as long as you lived.

But not wanting to get into all that, you look at your sister and swing even lower than her. "Yeah? Well mom and dad would be even more upset to see you fucking your best friend's rapist." Elena gapes and her eyes fill with tears, and you roll your eyes. "Come now, Elena. Don't start the waterworks now. You wanna be Katherine 2.0, then be Katherine 2.0. If you're gonna be a bitch, then own it."

Your back suddenly hits the wall and you have a face full of an enraged vampire. "All right. That's enough."

"Damon!" Bonnie yells.

"What the fuck was that?" You hear Marko murmur, biting back a smirk at the fact that they're still playing human.

"That was a low blow, YN," Damon says, tightening his grip around your throat.

"Careful, Damon, your lap dog is showing," you muse. "This is between me and my sister."

"Yeah? Well, it becomes my business when you make her cry."

"Oh, how noble." You huff. "Now kindly take your hand off of me and leave. You're no longer welcomed here."

You hear a bit of a scuffle and look over Damon's shoulder to see David holding Dwayne back by the arm. You can see the rage in his eyes even as he attempts to keep his cool, and subtly shake your head.

Damon glances over his shoulder as well to see who you're looking at and turns back to face you with a smirk. "You're so quick to drop everyone in Mystic Falls, let's see if your newfound family will stick around after they find out that you're a monster."

Your expression hardens. "Damon, do-"

CRACK!

Damon has all of half a second of smug satisfaction as he watches your body collapse lifelessly to the floor before a heart stopping roar practically shakes the walls of the room. He whirls around, eyes wide, and braces himself for the truly monstrous individual advancing on him.

Dwayne's features have shifted, his features more sharpened and defined. His eyes are now yellow and red, and his fangs and claws have elongated in his rage. He grabs a stunned Damon by the shoulders before savagely sinking his fangs into Damon's neck and pulling free a chunk of flesh.

As Damon gurgles on his blood and Elena shrieks in horror, Stefan speeds at Dwayne to pull him off. Only then do David, Paul, and Marko fly at him and throw him across the room before making a wall in front of YN's body. Dwayne continues to attack Damon, snapping each and every bone in his body that he can to prevent the raven-haired vampire from fighting back.

Elena tries to intervene when it appears Damon can't defend himself, but Rebekah catches her by the arm. "Stay out of it. Damon made his bed, now it's time for him to lie in it."

Alaric pulls free a wooden stake to help his friend, but all it takes is Klaus tutting in his direction to give the history teacher pause.

Then having heard enough snarling and snapping bones, Elijah approaches Dwayne cautiously. "That's enough, Dwayne. I believe Mr. Salvatore has learned his lesson." Panting and heaving, Dwayne snarls one last time before kicking Damon so hard in the ribs that he sends him sliding across the floor towards his panicked brother. Dwayne then turns and his brothers part so he can make a beeline to YN's body. As he does, he sits on the floor to cradle her lifeless body in his arms. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never touch a vampire's mate," Elijah says.

Everyone seems surprised, but it's Caroline who steps forward with a frown. "Mate? And vampire?" She asks incredulously. "What is going on, Elijah?"

"Dwayne, David, Marko, and Paul are vampires," he tells the room, ignoring Elena's whimpers as she tries to offer aid to Damon. "A different species, obviously, but vampires nonetheless. When Niklaus and I noticed some differences, I decided to do a little research after learning of how quickly Dwayne and YN became attached."

"And your research proved that our kind has mates?" Paul wonders. At Elijah's nod, he beams. "Fuck yeah! We totally called it after YN got bit by that werewolf."

"What werewolf?" Caroline's eyes widen in alarm.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. It's all been taken care of," Klaus assures her. Caroline huffs at him, but all it does is make him smirk.

"That's nice and all, but can I have a little help?" Elena grouses. "Damon's really hurt."

"Oh boo hoo," Rebekah deadpans. No one makes a move to help Elena except for Stefan and Alaric.

The three of them are doing their best to tend to Damon when Enzo enters the room. He takes a look at the Lost Boys before taking a look at his injured friend and then glances at the Mikaelson's. When his gaze finally lands on Caroline, he sighs. "I always miss the fun. What happened this time?"

"Damon's a bloody idiot, is what this is," Rebekah says instead. "He snapped a vampire mate's neck and said vampire didn't take too kindly to that."

Enzo shrugs. "Fair enough. Now if you're all done in here, some of the humans heard the ruckus. Jeremy and I have been doing damage control, but some of these locals are too nosy for their own good."

"Thank you, Mr. St. John. My sister and I will take it from here." Elijah beckons Rebekah to join him and she grumbles about missing all the fun.

Enzo, now too invested to see any more drama go down, walks over to stand next to Caroline and Bonnie.

"So, you four are vampires?" Bonnie wonders when no one says anything. "How come we didn't know?"

"Because YN wanted it that way," David says.

"And you just do what she says? How long have you even known her?"

"Long enough," you grumble. Immediately you feel yourself being squeezed and you groan as your eyes flutter open. You're staring up at the ceiling and you realize you're on the floor. "Dwayne?" The head tucked into the side of your aching neck lifts, and you smile at the vampiric face of your boyfriend. Reaching up, you tap on the tip of one of his fangs. "You can put these away now. I'm fine."

"He snapped your neck," he grumbles.

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Pity."

"YN!"

"What?" You whine. You attempt to sit up, letting Dwayne help you. Then glancing over at your sister, you have no fucks left to give her. "He snapped my neck. The way I see it, if he's still breathing, he got off easy."

"You could have told us your friends were different vampires."

"But then Damon wouldn't have gotten his ass kicked." Then glancing at those standing, you ask, "Did anyone record it?" Everyone with the exception of Stefan, Elena, Damon, and Alaric find your question funny. Dwayne stands and helps you to your feet, and you stretch a little with a groan. "But now you all see why I left, right? I refuse to live a life that Damon wants to control."

"But you'll live a life that the Mikaelson's control?" Elena huffs.

You stare at her, shaking your head. "When are you going to get over your hate for them? You all refuse to forgive the Mikaelson's, yet Damon somehow gets a free pass?" You ask.

"Damon didn't kill Jenna!"

"No, but he did kill the love of Enzo's life and then left Enzo to burn alive," you say. Then looking at Stefan, you say, "He killed Lexi. He's killed Ric, Jeremy, and even me a few times." Looking at Bonnie, you add, "He threatened Grams into using too much magic that led to her death and let's not forget everything he put Caroline through. So why the hell is Damon forgiven for all of that, but yet you're so appalled when I associate with Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah?"

No one has anything to say, and Elena can't even look at you. She's too busy making sure Damon is healing properly.

"She has a point," Enzo says, breaking the silence.

Glancing at him, you offer him a smile before looking at each of your friends. "I'm tired, hungry, and pissed off now, so the party's officially over. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

As you walk off, Dwayne takes hold of your hand. "Go up to the room. I'll grab some blood bags and liquor from the kitchen."

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand before letting go, grabbing the skirt of your dress and lifting it just a little so you can walk up the stairs without tripping.

. .

In the comfort and safety of your room, you strip out of your dress and run yourself a hot shower. The first thing you do is wash all the hair products out of your hair before scrubbing your face free of makeup, and then wash your body before standing under the rainfall of water. You sigh, reaching a hand up to rub at your sore neck.

The sound of the shower drowns out the outside noise, so you startle a little when you feel a hand land on your shoulder. Uncaring of your nudity, you turn around and are met with an equally nude Dwayne. He hands you a blood bag that's a little warm to the touch and you don't waste a moment. You grab the bag and immediately bring it up to your mouth, letting your fangs pierce the bag.

As you suck down your meal, you let Dwayne lead you a few steps back so he's standing under the rainfall of water as well. His hands gently cup your face, thumbs brushing the veins beneath your eyes that have slithered to the surface. Your eyes flutter open and you drop the bag when you're done with it.

Dwayne then leans down so his forehead is resting against yours, and his hands move down so his fingers gently probe around your neck. "I wanted to kill him," he quietly admits. "It took all my self-control to not rip his head from his body."

You huff a laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist. "As much as I wish you would have, it's best that you didn't. If anything happened to poor Damon, Elena and Stefan probably would have hounded us until the end of times."

"Then they would have met the same fate. You were dead at the time, but apparently we're mates and our instincts to protect each other are insane."

"Excuse me?" You pull back a bit, staring at Dwayne in disbelief. "Mates actually exist?"

"For my kind, yes. It's why I knew something was off that first day we were here and Damon had you pinned to the wall. It's also why I flew into a rage when he snapped your neck."

Mouth agape, you shut it with an audible click. A moment later, you shrug. "Well, that explains the rage I felt when Damon threatened your life. Normally I'd have laughed a threat like that off, but I got severely pissed off."

Dwayne chuckles. "This is going to be fun."

"For you, maybe. Protective instincts aren't the only instincts that rears its ugly head thanks to our apparent bond."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm possessive, dear mate." You smile up at him. "I noticed it the last time that one female tried gaining your attention, but it wasn't too bad of an urge to rip her head off. If she had touched you, however, I'm pretty sure it would have been game over for her." Dwayne slowly smirks and you slowly raise your arms so they're wrapped around his neck, and you hop up as you wrap your legs around his waist. "Now are you going to fuck your mate or just stand here under the water?"

"I wasn't sure you were up for anything after having your neck snapped," he says while reaching below you and grabbing hard length to notch at your entrance.

"For you? I'm always up for something." You slowly lower yourself on Dwayne's cock, head tilting back as your mouth opens in a silent moan. He grunts when you're fully seated and when you meet his smoldering gaze, you clench around him and cause him to grunt. "Now come on. Make me scream and embarrass my sister who is no doubt still trying to play victim downstairs."

Smirking, Dwayne places one hand on your ass as he walks over to the wall and then places his other hand on the wall for a bit of balance. "Hang on…"

Dwayne pulls out nearly all the way, and then a moment later he thrust back in. Hard. You moan, fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, and then beam brightly at him. "Again."

The following morning, you have absolutely no shame when you and Dwayne enter the kitchen together. Everyone, with the exception of Elijah and Klaus, are all smirking at you.

"Well, well," Rebekah muses. "Look at you. I'm surprised you're not walking funny."

Paul and Marko immediately laugh, and Klaus looks quite appalled.

"Rebekah, please, can you not?" Elijah asks, already exasperated with where the morning conversation is clearly headed.

"Oh hush. We're all adults here."

You chuckle as you head towards the refrigerator, pulling out a pitcher of orange juice to pour yourself a glass. "Who all got an earful besides those in this room?"

"Well Damon thinks you were faking it."

"Of course." Your eyes roll.

"Stefan looked like he had sucked on a sour lemon, Elena turned beet red as if she was some prude, and Caroline and Enzo couldn't help but be impressed."

You chuckle some more as you sip your juice and then make your way to the table where Dwayne is already seated. You help yourself to a few slices of bacon and pay no mind to Dwayne's brothers who are patiently waiting to tease you. Unfortunately for them, you're not bothered by it at all.

"So will you be leaving this afternoon?" Klaus asks in order to break the silence.

"Yes." When you glance at Rebekah, you smile at her pout. "But you guys will always be welcomed in Santa Carla and I'll do my best to visit every other month."

"You better."

"What about these bracelets?" Marko asks. "Are we supposed to give them back once we're back in Santa Carla or…?"

"The bracelets are a gift," Elijah says smoothly. "And as a token of our appreciation for being on your best behavior and abiding by the rules we set out, we will pay for a trip for all of you to wherever you want."

"We appreciate that," David says, "but we need to settle our claim on Santa Carla before we can take off again. And speaking of Santa Carla, how is our home?" He then asks Klaus.

Klaus shrugs. "My hybrids have dispatched a werewolf pack looking to make camp in your woods. Your territory is as you left it- dirty and nearly uninhabitable."

"Klaus." You shake your head in amusement at him. "I've made my decision."

"I'm well aware."

"Then don't be a dick."

"I said nearly." You chuckle as he smirks. "Now let us have a nice breakfast before you and your friends start to pack. The jet is being fueled as we speak."

. .

After a very talkative breakfast and barely half an hour of packing, you and the boys are on a private jet back to Santa Carla. You had immediately made a beeline for the singular bedroom at the back of the jet to go back to sleep, and Dwayne joined you for about an hour before rejoining his brothers.

You join them sometime later, taking the time to sip a drink as you listen to the boys brainstorm the perfect location for the trip you're all going to take once David's confident enough with his grasp on Santa Carla.

And it's only once you've stepped foot back in Santa Carla does your phone ping with a text message from Klaus. It's directions to a location and instructions to call him when you get there.

"What do you think it is?" Dwayne asks as he reads the message himself.

"I have no idea, but it's Klaus, so anything is possible."

You can see Paul and Marko are anxious to get back to their cave, but David wants everyone to stick together. So, after procuring- er, compelling- a car, you drive to the location Klaus had sent you.

Pulling up to the location that's still in Santa Carla, you're not surprised at its remote location, but you are surprised with the steel gate blocking a driveway and the steel fence that wraps all around the property. Off in the distance, up on a hill, there's quite the house sitting there.

"What the hell is this?" Paul asks, leaning forward between the seats.

"I have no idea." You pull out your phone and dial Klaus' number, still staring at the house in awe while holding the phone to your ear. When the line clicks over, you immediately ask, "What did you do?"

"Welcome home, love. The code to the gate is your birthday." You glance at the small box just outside the driver's side window and punch in the code. When the little red light turns green, the gates start to open. "Since there was no way you were going to leave Santa Carla, I figured that you could at least live in a proper home rather than that dark, dank cave your boys are apparently so fond of. Honestly, they needed to get out of there as well."

"Klaus… this is a lot," you utter in awe. You drive all the way up to the front steps and everyone hurriedly vacates the car to take a look around. "I can never repay something like this."

"Family doesn't repay family back. At least not ours."

"Klaus."

"I'm serious. It's done. Now since you're all vampires, I had a witch spell the house for you."

"How so?"

"No guest, whether they're supernatural or not, can enter your home without your permission. There was a little blood magic involved, so you'll have to invite your mate and friends in."

You walk up to the front door and enter the house with ease, smirking at Marko when he tries to enter behind you but can't. You quickly invite all four boys in and then turn to stare at the lavish home. "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, truly… thank you."

"Think nothing of it. But if you truly want to repay me back, you can take Rebekah on your next trip. She truly is aggravating."

You laugh and nod before saying, "Yes. Of course. Anything."

"Mhm. Well, I'll let you and the boys get acquainted with your new home. Have fun. Don't murder too many people."

"We'll try." You end the call with Klaus and only then does the sound of Paul and Marko's excitement reach your ears. You feel pressure at your elbow and find Dwayne standing there, looking down on you. "It's ours."

"What?"

"It's ours. Klaus obviously didn't like the living conditions of the cave, so he bought us a house."

"Well… shit." You snort at his utterance. "It's been a long time since any of us have lived in a proper home."

"Hey! If this is our house, do we get to call dibs on a room?" You hear Paul shout from somewhere deep in the house.

"Dwayne and I get the master!" You shout back. "It's a free for all for the rest of you."

All of a sudden you hear footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor, followed by grunting and whining, and protests of David being unfair.

Smiling, you turn back towards Dwayne and grin. "So, I guess this is home?"

"Do you want it to be?"

You shrug. "Home is wherever you are. If you want to go back to the cave, then let's go back. But if you want to stay here, then we'll stay here."

Dwayne flashes you one of his rare smiles as he reaches for you, and tugs you close. "Well, I wouldn't want to piss off the big bad hybrid by taking his precious baby sister back to the dark, dank cave."

You laugh and quickly lean up on the tips of your toes, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. "Then we'll stay." You kiss him again. "Now come on. Let's go break in our new bed."

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vctrvn-ls · 9 months

Note

Hellooo, could you write a '3am though ' about the Boys being clingy? Cause I feel like everyone is clingy in a different way hehe

Types of Clingy | Beta Squad |

Chunkz

His clingyness would show through being a little too co-dependent. I’m not saying he wouldn’t be able to make independent decisions at all, but most of the time he would definitely want your opinion…on pretty much like everything. New shoes, place to stay while on a work trip, where to eat, how to dress for the weather and on and on. Sometimes it’s nice to know that someone wants to hear your point of view, but other times it could be very very annoying.

Sharky

Sharky’s thing is definitely constantly texting or like somehow communicating through his phone 24/7. Doesn’t matter if you’re calling, chatting or just sending each other goofy snaps, he needs to constantly talk. He’d always send “update” messages out of nowhere, like imagine he decided to go to the store to buy some fruits and he’s in line, waiting and bored and suddenly some drama happens between a customer and the worker. He’d whip out his phone in a fraction of a second and begin describing the entire situation to you. Most of the time you don’t mind it, the opposite, you actually like it, but sometimes Sharky can get a little persistent and if you don’t reply while he’s currently bored, he’s going to spam your phone, asking where are you and “why are you ignoring me?”

Niko

Time is money to this man. Quality time is gold and Niko definitely wants it. He’s a busy man himself but if he finds out you have even a small 20 minute break from anything, you best be ready for him to appear and persuade you to do something together. Maybe you’re at work and you’re having lunch, in which case he’d offer to drive you to the nearest coffee shop, maybe you’re at uni and you have a free period during which he’ll sneak you out to have some ice cream. And when he’s done with work for the day, the first thing he’s doing is calling you and saying that he’s finally free from whatever, after which he would definitely suggest going somewhere, no matter how tired he was.

“Lisa are you dumb? AJ hates human contact, he said so himself like 100 times! You’re not telling me he’d be the physically clingy one!”

Hahahah - is my response guys. AJ. Would be. Possessive. (as fuck) Okay yes he hates it when people touch him BUT YOU AREN’T JUST PEOPLE! He wants you to constantly hold his hand or arm, he needs it. And for him it would be a totally normal thing to have his arm around your waist at all times when going out. He wants people to know that you’re with him, that you’re his and that nothing is getting in between the two of you. Doesn’t matter where: party, grocery store, at a fucking dentist appointment, this guy couldn’t care less, just as long as he’s somehow holding onto you or you’re holding onto him.

Kenny

This one a bit sad. I think Kenny would be a little insecure. Like ok we know he’s the sexiest man alive but in his eyes he’s still not good enough for you. And that’s exactly what gnaws at him. Sometimes arguments would spur between the two of you out of nothing. Imagine you went out and didn’t tell Kenny, just forgot to mention or you were in a hurry. When you finally come back home he’d be like “where have you been?” , “why didn’t you tell me you were going out?” , “who’d you go out with?” , but it wouldn’t be in a controlling sense, you get me? Like he’d be worried, paranoid even and to you sometimes it would seem stupid. Like you shouldn’t be constantly explaining things to him. But no matter how mad or pissed you wanna be at him, you can’t. Why? Cause it’s Kenny and Kenny is 🔛🔝 of everything <3

#beta squad #youtube #niko omilana #aj shabeel #chunkz #king kenny #sharky #betasquadedit #sharky x reader #kingkennytv #niko omilana x reader

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miraclewoozi · 3 months

Text

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 2. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

( PART ONE )

pair ; vernon x fem!reader. content ; strangers to lovers. up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader. fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage. mentions of sickness (acute). wc ; 12.2k ( ~38k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

smut tags : making out. some groping. some 'first time together' shenanigans. oral (m rec) & ball sucking hehe. he has a big cock because i have an agenda to push. implied f rec oral. implied multiple rounds. PLEASE let me know if i’ve forgotten anything.

The clock on your bedside table reads somewhere between 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning when you resign from trying to fall asleep and force yourself to sit upright, fed up of tossing and turning between your now too-creased sheets, brain stuck in a foggy, hellish limbo. Your mind won’t shut down. Your body won’t rest. Birds are starting to chirp outside and you can hear them clear as whistles through the cheap window that doesn’t quite seal shut to your left. Your eyes squint in preparation as you reach for your lamp and flood the room in yellowish light, drawing your knees up to your chest.

You’ve spent so much time in your own thoughts that you’ve begun to feel systemically unwell. Your stomach twists and aches, your eyes are so dry it hurts to even blink and there’s an ache behind them that started as an annoying throb, but has grown over the hours into a roaring flame. From the hairs on your head all the way down to your toes, you feel like you could burst.

You wish you had it in you to cry. To let it out. Keeping this pent up is no doubt making you feel a hundred times worse, and you think it would be nice to feel something other than the endless swooping of the spiral you’re well and truly making your way down. Your alarms are going to go off in a few hours. I can’t let anyone see me like this, you think. I can’t work in this state.

You throw ideas around in your head for a little while, thumbs tweaking over your phone as messages get typed, edited, deleted, and repeat. Part of you thinks maybe you could manage. Just tough it out and put on a brave face, because actually, what right do you have to be hiding away when you’re the one who ran out one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met? But you just know something will go wrong, even if you tell the boys that you need to camp out in the office for the day. When you need peace and quiet, you can never find it behind that creaky old door. When was the last time you got a full admin day without being called through to help with a problem or deal with a drama? And truly, the idea of facing the world right now makes you feel like you could be sick.

Sick…

Could you—?

You’ve never enjoyed taking sick days, even on occasions where you’ve really needed them, when you’ve woken up feeling like you’re knocking at death’s door. Sometimes, you swear the guilt that it brings ends up making you feel ten times worse than whatever your ailment is doing to you in the first place. But your exhaustion lets impulse take hold and you’re already sending a message into your group chat with the boys before you can talk yourself out of it, biting the inside of your cheek as the little indicator pops up on your screen. Delivered.

Well. You’re committed now, whether you like it or not.

Not feeling so hot. I won’t be in today. Take it easy, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Sorry.

You pick your comforter up off the bed and wrap it around your shoulders like an extravagant, well-padded cape, trudging your way through the apartment until you’re stood, barefoot and cold, staring into the bright light of your refrigerator. Somehow in the seconds between pulling the handle and now, you’ve managed to forget what is what that you were hoping to find. More out of spite for how the bulbs are currently bleaching your retinas than because you want it, you pull the milk from its home in the cradle of the door and fix yourself a glass to take with you and put it on the coffee table back in your living room.

Without an ounce of grace, you throw yourself onto your couch: your head rests against the arm of the seat like you’re in the apartment of a sketchy therapist, and you’re wrapped up in your duvet as if it’s a sleeping bag, treating yourself to the luxury of a slightly different ceiling pattern to stare up at. And it could be the change of the room that finally manages to drag you under, or it could be the total fatigue of the emotional rollercoaster that has been your last twenty four hours…

But your glass of milk goes completely untouched as you eventually drift off, either way.

Of course, it’s not for nearly long enough. Barely an hour after finally managing to fall asleep, your phone starts to vibrate harshly against your chest. You tap at the screen blindly, hoping to shut off what you assume is your alarm; when it’s still buzzing a few seconds later, you reluctantly open your eyes, fighting back a sob. It’s not your alarm – it’s an incoming call. Why would it be anything else?

“Hello?” You grumble, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on the couch cushion next to your head. The energy expenditure of holding the device up to your ear feels mammoth.

“Ohh, you sound terrible.” Seungkwan’s voice sounds more taunting than it does concerned, but you pin that down to a symptom of his over-familiarity. “You’re sick?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I heard there was something going around,” Seungkwan tells you. Great, you think. Good to know. Now go away. “Yeah – one of my cousins… ah, what did she say…”

“Hey, man, I really-...”

“That’s it. She said she was love sick.”

You sigh so hard you think it’s a miracle you don’t pass out.

“Don’t–”

“You better make sure Vernon gives you plenty of Vitamin D, today,” he harps on. “It’s quite the disease. I heard it can really–”

“Seungkwan!” You snap, finally, grabbing your phone and barking straight into the microphone. He doesn’t need to know that you’re stretching the truth to its absolute limit, but you certainly won’t let him keep believing that you’re calling out just to get laid. “Knock it off, okay? I’ve been awake all night.”

(You suppose you should be glad that that much really is true.)

He falls silent, and you don’t know if he totally believes you, but a few breaths later, you hear his voice through the speaker again. He’s softer, this time. Quieter.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, hesitating a moment before he goes on. “Try to get some rest, all right? I’ll swing by after work and check in with some food, and… if you need anything, just text me?”

You’re immediately overcome with guilt at the sharp change in his demeanour, and it does nothing to settle the way your insides are writhing inside you. You clear your throat and pull your duvet up to cover your face, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

“I will,” you mumble. “I’m sorry – thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. You can hear the front door to his own apartment slam shut and his breaths pick up as he starts to rush down the stairwell of his building. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

“Hey–” he rushes, before you can hang up the call. “Rest up. Run a bath, drink plenty. Love you.”

You cringe a little, but not enough to stop you from saying it back. Sort of.

“Yeah. You too.”

Nobody could ever accuse Seungkwan of not being a man of his word. As irritating as he can sometimes be, as determined as he is to get on your every last nerve, you’ve never known him fail to come through on a promise.

Not long after 6:30pm, you hear a series of knocks at the front door of your apartment. You’ve managed to squeeze in odd shifts of sleep throughout the day and though your head is still in a mess, you feel significantly less irritable than you were this morning. Cleaner, as well. One of your (several) naps took place in the bath, where you laid there and let the hot water draw some of the anxieties clean out of you to float towards the ceiling amongst the lavender-scented steam.

In the knowledge that Seungkwan’s expectations of you are quite literally zero, you don’t bother to fix the one leg of your sweatpants that’s rolled up before you heave yourself off the couch and go to let him inside. He stands in the doorway with a bag of takeout food in each hand, all wind-flushed cheeks and that brilliant smile, and you feel like your stomach settles almost straight away when you see him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, toeing off his shoes as he comes inside and lets the door close behind him. He sets the bags down on top of the small table by your front door and cups your face in both of his hands, squeezing your cheeks and frowning down at you. “You look awful.”

“Wow, thanks,” you huff, squirming to get out of his grip. “I was going to say I feel a little better, but…”

“You look exhausted,” Seungkwan clarifies, picking up the bags once more and following you through to your living room as you start to walk away from him. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t realise you were actually… this bad…”

“This is doing wonders for my ego,” you grumble. “Keep it coming. Really.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, no. By all means, continue to kick a girl while she’s down. Super classy.”

Your best friend flops down onto your couch with an exaggerated huff at your petulance. You curl up in the armchair instead, bringing your knees up beneath you.

“Do you think it was something you ate?” He asks, refusing to give into your bickering and changing the subject matter instead.

You shrug your shoulders at him. “I don’t-... I mean, it was more of a head… thing?”

He sucks his front teeth. “What, like a migraine?”

“Sort of?”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?” He asks. “You’ve had a migraine before. Was it that or not?”

“Well, it’s difficult to-... It wasn’t exactly…”

“Okay.”

Seungkwan interrupts you as you hesitate again, swinging his legs off the couch and resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning as far towards you as he can while still remaining seated. He wrings his hands, plays with his fingers, lips drawn forward in a stern-looking pout.

“I thought something was up this morning on the phone, but I didn’t wanna push it because you sounded mad. Now I know something’s wrong with you. What’s going on?”

You swallow hard and cross your arms over your chest, dropping your gaze away from Seungkwan’s very intense one.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Bullshit.”

“Seungkwan!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, tipping his head forward and running his hands through his hair. He’s never been a coddler, always one to prefer the tough-love approach: it’s no surprise that he doesn’t appear any softer when he looks back at you. “But we both know that’s crap.”

You can feel your pulse starting to quicken the longer he stares you down. It’s as if he’s burning two great big holes into your head, laser-beams where his pupils ought to be. He’s the master of the hard stare, and you know he won’t move until he hears the truth.

Maybe I should just tell him. Maybe it’ll help…

“Look, I don’t care how famous he thinks he’s gonna be, if Vernon upset you last night, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

And there are the alarm bells. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve seen this coming; it’s not that far of a reach, and given the few facts that he actually knows, you can’t blame Seungkwan for jumping to this conclusion. It’s quite effective in triggering you to speak up, too. (You think that maybe, this was on purpose. Attack where you’re likely to defend. He knows you like the back of his hand.) In an instant you’re sitting upright with your feet firmly on the floor and you’re shaking your head at him like a dog trying to get itself dry.

“No, no, no, back it up,” you rush. “It’s nothing like that. He hasn’t done anyth-... God, it’s not him.”

“It better not be,” Seungkwan tells you. His voice still has that dark edge to it, and you’re not sure how exactly to stamp it out. “I’m serious. If he’s done anything-...”

“He hasn’t,” you say more firmly. After a couple slow breaths, you clasp your hands together, swallowing your pride. “The food’s gonna go cold. Go grab a couple glasses and-... whatever else from the kitchen—”

“Only if you tell me what’s happening,” he says, slowly pushing himself up to stand.

You don’t assent with words, but you don’t have to. You look up at him and nod a couple of times and that’s all he needs. Seungkwan strides off through the doorway, leaving you to shakily exhale away the stress that is once again squeezing at your lungs.

Once the containers are laid out on the table, food is divided up, utensils are handed over and he’s poured you each out a glass of soda, Seungkwan sits back on the couch. He doesn’t prod you, or ask you again – he doesn’t need to. You know what he’s waiting for. Even so, he allows you a few mouthfuls of your dinner first: seeing as this is the first substantial thing you’ve eaten all day, you silently thank him for the generosity.

“All right,” you say, gulping down a few mouthfuls of your drink to re-lubricate your throat. “Okay. Fuck – you’re gonna wanna make yourself comfy for this.”

The only way he moves is to pick up one of the food cartons and settle it on his thigh. Oh, how you wish you were joking. But if he really doesn’t want to heed your warning…

“You know I went on that date the other week?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek. Seungkwan nods at you, lifting a helping of noodles out of the carton.

“With the hitter and quitter,” he confirms. “I remember.”

“Right,” you say. “Well – okay, wait, no. That’s a bad start. He didn’t do anything either.”

“I mean…”

“Not the time.”

He lifts his free hand up in surrender and gestures for you to continue as he slurps his food into his mouth. You clear your throat, bouncing one leg so rapidly that the decorative candle holder on your mantelpiece starts to rattle.

“So… it was before the date. I was on my way to the bar, walking down past-... that convenient store. You know the one Chan keeps going into ‘cause he’s got the hots for the person who works there on a Friday night? Yeah, I was walking down that way. Actually running on time for once, and-...”

You falter, sucking a breath deep into your lungs. It causes your next words to come out more strained than they ought to.

“I ran into Jaehyun...”

Seungkwan swallows just in time to prevent himself from choking on his mouthful of food, but his eyes still shoot wide and you think his chest convulses a little bit anyway. His is a name you haven’t mentioned in a while, but he clearly hasn’t forgotten who it belongs to.

Because, well… how could he ever forget?

Your ex-partner. Jaehyun.

The ex-love-of-your-life, Jaehyun.

The man who asked you to marry him after three and a half years of dating only to leave you, heartbroken and alone, six months later because he wanted to travel the world and there was too much that you couldn’t bring yourself to leave behind, Jaehyun.

How could Seungkwan forget when he had been one of the people who helped drag you through what was not only the worst break-up, but one of the worst times of your entire life?

Aside from the other week, it’s been… nearly eighteen months since you saw him last. Almost a year since you let yourself talk about him. Even sitting in your own apartment with a box full of your favourite food in your hands, a sense of dread chills you from head to toe just going so far as to say his name. But you’ve started, now, so you might as well finish.

“…right outside that stupid fucking store.”

Your voice cracks when you say it and you hurry to set your dinner down on the floor to free up your shaking hands. You cup them over your mouth, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. It helps enough for you to be able to continue, even if you still feel a bit like you’re drowning.

“I thought he…” Seungkwan starts, putting his own food down and slipping off the couch. He comes to sit on the arm of your chair and puts a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “When did-...?”

“Yeah, uh… apparently he moved back a couple weeks ago,” you swallow, leaning into your friend’s embrace.

Seungkwan looks down at you and you look up at him, all misty-eyed and drained. There’s more. He knows there is, but now he waits for you patiently, giving you all the time in the world to get through this and to let it out and to lean on him. He doesn’t butt in. The quiet feels worse than the talking.

“He’s with someone now. They, uh— they met in Paris. Just over a year ago.”

Seungkwan finally dares to make a noise and breathes out heavily, so loud that it’s almost a groan.

“Y/n,” he sighs, tightening his hold around you. “Shit – I’m so sorry,”

You shrug, staring across the room to where your record player sits on top of a low cabinet, lid open, table collecting dust.

“For months, I sat here feeling… fucking, sorry for myself,” you say, barely above a whisper. You swallow around the lump in your throat and shake your head. “This whole time, refusing to get back on the horse ‘cause I thought maybe-... but he was-…”

The room goes quiet again as you lose the words you want to say and Seungkwan just rubs small circles against your arm. The problem is that you know this doesn’t explain why you called out of work today. It doesn’t explain what happened last night, and you’re not sure where to begin with that either. Especially seeing as the last time your best friends saw you and Vernon, the sparks flying between you were nigh-on visible.

“I thought I was handling it, you know?” You sigh, leaning harder into Seungkwan’s soft sweatshirt. “Like… yeah — it hurt… but I was okay? I guess. And then Vernon fucking… kissed me last night—“

“He— what?”

“Hang on — no, he… I wanted him to.” You fumble with a thread hanging off the sleeve of your t-shirt as you talk. Why is this all so difficult? At the same time, why does it feel so juvenile to say out loud? “I just… I don’t know…”

Your wall clock tick, tick, ticks away in yet another painful fall of silence.

“How bad was he?” Seungkwan asks when you struggle to elaborate.

You assume this is an attempt to shatter the gloomy atmosphere and lighten your mood a tiny bit; it works, you suppose, because despite yourself, you laugh drily. Not without nudging your shoulder into his ribs, though. He deserves it, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that it does make you feel a little better.

“He wasn’t,” you groan. “Don’t—… you’re such an ass.”

He pulls himself away from you at the sound of your laughter and moves to sit on the edge of your coffee table instead, careful not to disrupt any of your food while keeping himself close enough to you that he can hold both of your hands in his and soothe his thumbs over your palms.

“You freaked out on him, didn’t you?”

He sees straight through you and truthfully, no part of you is surprised. No part of you tries to fight it, or reject his assumption, or even question why that’s the first explanation he leapt to. You just nod, looking to where your best friend’s fingers are currently the only things holding you together.

“Ran out his apartment like the building was gonna burn down,” you sigh, still laughing but harshly now. He squeezes your hands gently, urging you to look up at him. You do, slowly. “It’s ruined everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Seungkwan tries, narrowing his eyes at you when you scoff your obvious disagreement. “No, seriously. Anyone can see the poor guy’s got it bad for you.”

“Even if that’s right, you didn’t see his face,” you say. “God, he isn’t gonna wanna look at me ever again.”

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe if you explain what happened–”

“Oh, sure,” you snort. “‘Hey, Vernon. Sorry for running out on you like a lunatic yesterday. I ran into my ex recently and when you kissed me, it reminded me of being with him and I got freaked out and had to dash. Hope you don’t mind.’ God.”

You try to draw your hands back but Seungkwan just holds onto you tighter. “We’ll workshop it,” he says firmly. “Do you like him, or not?”

“Seungkwan–”

“That wasn’t an option.”

You scowl at him. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes,” you stress finally, groaning through it. “Yes – I do.”

Seungkwan’s face lights up for a second, his eyes sparkling, lips lifting. You’re half expecting him to say ‘I knew it’. Half expecting him to try and be all deep and philosophical and a little bit motherly, as he sometimes does, especially when you’re upset. He’s always been a sucker for a happy ending. But this isn’t a happy ending, you remind yourself, squaring your jaw. It’s past that, already. It isn’t going to happen, you just know it.

“Stop being so fucking hard on yourself,” he tells you, squeezing your hands one last time before he lets go and moves back over to the couch so he can finish eating before his food goes cold. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”

You’re not sure what’s in the air right now, but this has been one of the busiest weekends that you can remember. Both yesterday and today, almost as soon as the store opened, your first handful of customers came through. Apart from about an hour around lunchtime, you don’t think there have been any periods of time where you’ve not had someone milling around the shelves. It makes a nice change, really, from some of your weekend shifts – hours at a time where the dust starts to settle and hardly anyone disturbs the bell above the front door. But this means you’ve been in full customer-service mode basically all day, and you’re starting to feel exhausted from keeping up the persona.

Still. There’s only an hour or so left — you can push through, and when you get home, there’ll be a nice, hot bubble bath with your name written all over it.

The bell chimes again just as you finish serving a group of teenage girls. You watch them scurry away, excitedly giggling about their new albums and you look towards the door with a smile already plastered on, all ready to greet the new customer until your eyes lock with theirs.

A ‘hey, how’s it going?’ stops somewhere midway up your throat, a pathetic little ‘huh?’ sound escaping you in its place. You’re frozen all of a sudden; you and the man who just came in both stand perfectly still, staring at each other like a pair of bunnies in headlights. It takes you forever to register the strap wrapped around his fist, the purse that hangs just below his grip. My bag, you think to yourself, but the voice that narrates your thoughts is hushed for the first time ever, too. Everything in your head gets sucked away into a little vacuum. The only thing left is him.

“I-… thought you might want this back.” Vernon breaks the quiet first. Your throat runs dry. In a flash, the noise in your brain is as loud as it’s ever been and in amongst all the chaos of thoughts and questions and apologies, you can’t pick out the words you actually want to say.

He slowly unravels the strap from around his hand and takes a few steps closer to you, inching towards the counter.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he hurries to assure you. Your heart aches for how reserved and nervous he looks. It doesn’t suit him. You hate it. “It’s okay. I’m… really sorry, about the other night. I didn’t mean to—” A deep breath. “I’ll see you around.”

Vernon lays your bag so delicately on the wooden surface that you could be forgiven for thinking he was handling an explosive. Then, he takes one, two, three steps back, before turning and heading to the exit.

“Wait—” you call out to him, finding your voice at the most critical time, right as his fingers curl around the door handle. “Wait—, please.”

He spins back around to face you as you slip out from behind the desk. His left brow lifts higher than the right but otherwise, he gives nothing away. He doesn’t even say anything as he stands there, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

You swallow around the golf ball sized lump taking residence in your throat and clasp your hands together in front of you, wringing and twisting and accidentally popping one of your knuckles in the process. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

Vernon chews this over in his mind but ultimately just shrugs his shoulders at you. What is there to say? He surely agrees, but he seems so adamant to ensure you don’t feel bad about it happening that he just… says nothing. Again. It’s kind of maddening, even if you fully get why.

“No, I mean it,” you try again. “It wasn’t you. It’s nothing you did.”

“We really don’t have to do the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing,” Vernon offers, his cardboard-like posture softening. There’s even a little bit of a smile on his face, you think — but it’s not the kind of smile you’ve grown used to seeing on him. It doesn’t reach his eyes; he looks kind of like someone who has read their cards and accepted their fate. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you stress, stepping closer to him again. You sigh deeply. There’s something almost relieving about the position you find yourself in. You suppose this really is crunch time; it’s now or never. “Can we… talk? About everything?”

“What? Here?” Vernon asks.

You glance around the store, at the few people doing a very poor job of pretending to be minding their own business, and frown. He’s right. This isn’t the time, or the place. The problem is, you have a feeling that if you send him away, he may not decide to come back and listen to you. In his defence, why should he? He’s already done more than the decent thing and brought you back that which you abandoned in his apartment; several of your previous conquests would have shoved the bag and its contents either in the trash or the back of a closet somewhere. This is more than you could have hoped for.

You hold a finger up to him and ask him to stay where he is, and though he looks a little bewildered at the gesture, he ultimately doesn’t move. You rush off out the back to the storeroom where you banished Chan an hour ago, on account of his raging hangover and your low tolerance for his whining about it; you’re genuinely surprised to find him working, and actually alphabetising the records you got in a few days ago like you asked him to.

“Hey. Can you do me a huge favour?” You ask, not announcing your arrival and subsequently scaring Chan out of his skin. He jolts as he hears your voice and claps a hand to his chest, exhaling hard. You don’t entertain his dramatics, though. There’s no time. “I need you to close today.”

“Huh?” He asks, still acting as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I thought–”

“Please.” You wave him off, knowing he’s about to ask about the task you gave him. “We can look at this together tomorrow. You did great. It’s just an hour – is that okay?”

He chews the inside of his lip, almost looking disappointed. To be fair to him, he did look like he was in a groove when you appeared, but he doesn’t argue with you as he puts down the record in his hand and picks his phone up off the table to his right, silencing the catchy tune that was playing while he organised.

“Of course it is,” he says, holding his hand out for your keys and starting to walk towards you. “Everything okay?”

“It-...” you start, faltering as you place the store keys in his waiting palm. Your default response was about to be ‘it’s fine’, but you’re trying harder these days to stop pretending, especially around him. So you swallow, nodding your head, flashing him a tight lipped smile. “I’m about to find out.”

“Oh? Is it…?”

A brief pause later, not before cringing at how predictable you’ve apparently become, you say, “yeah.”

Chan claps you on the shoulder as he skirts his way around you, leaning in to give you a sort of side-along hug on his way. You stretch your arm across his waist and pull him closer for a moment, trying to drive home how much you appreciate this. He doesn’t comment on the uncharacteristic display of affection, and you want to find out why, but Vernon isn’t going to wait around for you forever.

“Go get him, tiger,” Chan whispers.

“I owe you, big time,” you promise.

He winks at you before he disappears through the door and you follow him briefly, but as he does a round of checking in with your customers and making sure they don’t need any help, you hurry off to grab your jacket from the office.

Vernon is exactly where you left him when you come back out into the storefront, hands unmoved from where he stuffed them into his pockets earlier, rocking back and forth on his toes and looking around from wall to wall. You think perhaps he took your request slightly too literally and the fact that even his feet are in the same position as before you left is reminiscent of a puppy commanded to stay, but if anyone here is at liberty to start poking fun, you think that it certainly isn’t you. Instead of trying your luck, you lock the office door and walk up to him, returning his polite, yet slightly awkward smile.

“You’re not, like, super busy right now or anything, are you?” You ask him.

His brows crease and his eyes shift side-to-side before they land back at you. He shakes his head.

“Did you maybe wanna… take a walk?”

Vernon nods this time, still not moving or even pulling his hands out of his jeans. His elbows are locked out and the length of his arms means his shoulders are raised quite some way. He could not be more uncomfortable looking if he tried, but he doesn’t say no and nothing on his face gives away that he wants to reject your proposition, either, so you’re the one to take that tentative first step towards the door. When you do, he follows.

You left the store at least ninety seconds ago and still, neither of you have said anything yet. Honestly, it’s taking all you’ve got not to just burst and let it all out; it’s building and building and your stomach feels tight, but it’s less of a knot and more like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes are dipped to the ground, incredibly aware of every step he takes, in what you realise now are a gorgeous pair of platform boots tucked up beneath his baggy jeans. He’s at least an inch and a half taller than the last time you saw him.

“Your friend,” Vernon starts finally, pausing before he continues. “Is he always so… you know?”

“What did he say?” You ask, peeking over to him. Trust Chan to start getting —

He hurries to shake his head. “Nothing. He just… kept looking at me. In a weird way, like…”

“Like he knows something you don’t, and he’s not gonna tell you, but he wants you to know that he knows it anyway?” You supply.

“Yeah— exactly like that.”

“Mm. That’s just… Chan.”

“Huh.”

“It’s worse when they’re together,” you say. He breathes out a chuckle and you feel his elbow bump into your upper arm. The distance he put between you when you fell into step outside the store has reduced, you realise now; you’re not sure when, or if it was on purpose. Did he move closer once you started speaking? Was it just so he could hear you better? Or…

Either way, despite being side-by-side, he still feels a hundred miles away from you. This isn’t enough.

“You get used to them, though,” you add, trying to stay on track. “I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Jokes aside, he still won’t look at you for longer than a few seconds, which tugs at something deep in your chest. Discomfort clings to you, and even if it does seem like you’re making some progress, you can still feel unease radiating off him. A cheap laugh at the expense of your friends who aren’t here to defend themselves won’t fix that which you took a wrecking ball to a few nights ago. This needs to be heartfelt and genuine, and more importantly it needs to come out right.

But when you open your mouth to speak, still searching your brain for the right way to explain why you acted the way you did, there’s nothing.

How wonderful would it be for the perfect explanation to just tumble from your lips calmly and evenly, and for it to make everything okay? But the reality is that your throat runs dry as petrol fumes make their way through your parted lips. You hold your tongue again just a second later, sighing quietly.

You’re starting to feel like a lost cause when Vernon breaks the silence for you, again. He slows his steps to a halt when he eventually says, “so.”

“So,” you repeat, freezing mid-stride as you go completely tense. It’s like you’re staring into oblivion’s wide open mouth. “I-… don’t really know where to start. I’m sorry.”

“The beginning’s usually pretty good?” He offers.

You nod. “How much did you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with telling me.”

If anyone on this Earth deserves a medal for their patience, it’s Vernon. You still haven’t turned to face him yet, your eyes fixated on the traffic signal some fifty yards away from you and you’re pretty sure if someone poked you too hard, you’d shatter into a million tiny pieces. But, as impossible as it seems all the while you try to get your thoughts in a reasonable order, you manage to swallow your nerves.

It’s crunch time. It’s now or never.

The explanation you give him is messy. Disjointed. But once you start, it becomes difficult to stop: you end up sparing very little detail and circle back on yourself no less than three times. You tell him about how you were engaged and about the breakup, the run-in, your shitty date, gesturing with your hands to emphasise the most important parts. When you start to move again, Vernon makes his steps bigger until he’s walking alongside you. He never interrupts you. He acknowledges every sentence when you pause for breath. Encourages you to keep going when you fall over your words.

“… and—... I guess I just lost my head. But it wasn’t your fault.” You swallow hard before you continue, “I’m… really sorry.”

He nods slowly, taking his time to digest everything.

“Don’t be,” he says, lightly bumping into your side. It’s a very small reassurance that he’s not going to walk away, but it means much more to you than you’re sure he meant it to. “I get it.”

“I—”

“No, like. I get it.”

“Yeah?” You ask, only understanding when you catch the very pointed look in his eyes.

“For sure.”

Of course, it makes sense. Vernon’s young. Attractive. Nice. Talented. He must have been with people before. Hell, you think he surely leaves a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes. He gets it.

“We dated for like… five? Years. Her name was Nari,” he tells you.

A few seconds later, you watch him start to shrug off his jacket on one side and expose one of his toned arms to you. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to air his dirty laundry out if he doesn’t want to when he twists at his elbow; you catch sight of a tattoo you remember having seen the night he wore that black singlet on stage. Two lily flowers blooming up the inside of his bicep.

It’s so pretty. Intricate. The line work is beautiful, the petals shaded with hundreds of little dots. You wanted to ask about it that night, but you never found the right chance, and now—

Lily?

It takes you longer than you’re willing to admit to join the dots, but when the penny finally drops, so does your jaw. Vernon slides back into his sleeve with a big, entertained smile and a little shrug.

“Mhm.”

“Oh my God?”

“I know.”

It’s not that you’re laughing, per se. This isn’t your baggage to laugh at, no matter how unbothered Vernon seems to be by what he’s just revealed. But you do rub your hand over your face and cover your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as a breath that contains the edges of a bemused chuckle escapes you. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, it appears to give him a boost to keep talking.

“I got that on our third anniversary,” he goes on to explain. “A couple years later… She called it quits. Turns out there was another guy. I thought about lasering it, but… apparently that hurts worse than getting the tattoo in the first place, so…”

“That’s…”

“It’s whatever,” Vernon says, shaking his head. “They’re my mom’s favourite flowers too. That’s what almost everyone else thinks it’s for.”

You haven’t looked back up at his face since the unveiling, not until now. When your eyes meet again, Vernon tilts his head in the direction you’re walking and continues down the street, spinning now so he’s walking backwards but still facing you. “I just mean... It’s okay. I get it.”

The moment you’ve caught up to him and you’re back by his side, he turns to face front, just in time to avoid a collision with a streetlamp. The lingering awkwardness starts to fade to nothing; you can see it in the way he holds himself, and you can feel it in the way you do, too. Everything relaxes. Your neck, your shoulders, your fists. It all ebbs away.

“It really wasn’t anything you did,” you clarify once more.

“So you keep telling me,” Vernon quips, tips of his ears turning pinker by the moment. “It’s okay, I swear. Do you want me to walk you home?”

You accept his offer and lead him down a side-street, picking up a completely unrelated conversation now to purify the air. Before you really know it (what was that everyone always said about time flying?), you come to a stop outside your building. Vernon’s sentence fades away when you stop moving; instead he stills, glancing sideways, and you nod confirmation at him with a lopsided smile.

“This is me,” you say, reaching into your back pocket for your keys. “So…”

“So,” Vernon echoes, glancing around again. “Can I like, lay my cards out, real quick?”

You nod.

“I like you.” He shrugs, now toying with the leather bracelet around his wrist. “Like, a lot. But…”

But. You feel like you should have seen this coming. But. But. Of course there’s a—

“I’ve got some shows coming up out of town and I need to see some family, I’m not gonna be here from tomorrow for like, three weeks...”

Oh.

Well. On one hand, it’s not what you thought. It’s not a flat-out rejection. It’s not a shut down. On the other? You bite the inside of your cheek and look at your hands, playing with your keys to keep them busy. Under any other lens, three weeks isn’t really a very long time at all. You’re pretty sure that the milk you bought yesterday is going to last longer than that. But three weeks… this early into things?

That’s longer than you’ve even known him.

“… and I thought, if you wanted — I could… take you out. When I get back. For real. Maybe.”

Oh.

“Like…?”

“Like… on a date,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “One where I’m not like… fresh off stage and all gross and shit.”

Relief replaces anxiety on both his face and yours when you let out a quiet laugh.

“I’d really like that,” you say, twitching fingers suddenly still. “Yeah.”

“I’m not asking you to like, wait around, or anything,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, fumbles with it, and just barely manages to soften the fall with the toe of his boot before it lands screen-up on the concrete. “We’ll just see how it goes. And it gives you some time to… deal with things. Whatever you’ve gotta do.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest as he bends low to pick his phone back up, smoothing his thumb over the small scuff on the protective case. It seems remarkably undamaged otherwise.

“And if you’re still interested, then…”

“Interested?” You ask with a small grin.

“Aren’t you?” Vernon asks.

“I—...” You think about playing coy, but when he’s been so open with you about where his head’s at, it feels so silly and childish to bother pretending. That playful ‘I might be’ gets swallowed back. Instead – “Yeah. I am.”

“Cool. Then we’ll figure it out. At your pace, okay?”

“Okay.”

He grabs his earphones out of his other pocket, slides one in, and is about to step back away from you when you do something you don’t really expect yourself to. Something you’ve never done to a man you can barely even say you’re ‘seeing’. You close the space between you and, as if to lock in your words, push forward onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you say when you fall back down to your heels. If he wasn’t so dumbstruck, you feel like he’d be about to ask what you were thanking him for; as it stands though, he’s frozen, blushing, and the only reason you can tell he’s still alive is because he can’t stop blinking at you. “For… giving me another chance.”

He still can’t quite find his voice, so Vernon just shakes his head, clearing his throat. (No need, he wants to say.) Alas, his lips just open and close soundlessly.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you supply for him. He takes in a deep, mind-clearing breath and nods his head.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You see the apples of his cheeks lift as he presses his thumb against his phone screen and restarts whatever song he was listening to when he walked into your store. A brilliant smile consumes his face. It only grows as he turns away from you and walks off down the street.

For a second, you think it’s all very smooth. Movie-like, even.

Then, he stumbles over a crack in the pavement. When he glances back to pray you didn’t watch it happen, he catches you snickering into your fist. He shakes his head and continues on, leaving you to fumble with your key in the lock before you finally let yourself inside.

You overslept.

Sort of. You heard your alarm go off straight away but you might have snoozed it, and when you heard it sound for a second time, you turned it off completely, telling yourself that you just needed one more minute. You just wanted to rest your eyes for a few more seconds. There wasn’t any danger of you going back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, you practically fell off your mattress in a panic when you realised that there had, in fact, been a big fucking danger.

You were still able to wash up well and make it to work on time, but you had to sacrifice your morning coffee stop after seeing that the queue at the register was going to take too long. For years, you’ve refused to consider yourself to be the kind of person who relies heavily on a caffeine kick first thing in the morning, but today? It’s barely ten thirty and you’re seriously flagging: like you’ve never known what energy is, like you’ll never feel it again.

(You blame the fact that when you first looked at your phone today before rolling back over, there was no ‘good morning :)’ text to entice you out of bed. But you’re trying really hard not to think about why that is, nor why it was such a deciding factor.)

So, when the bell above your shop door jingles and you’re forced to stand upright (a change your back doesn’t thank you for when it has to readjust from the previous hunched position you had adopted over the countertop), you groan quietly. Nonetheless, your tired eyes crease at the corners as you smile at whoever it is that’s come across the threshold.

After a second, your eyes refocus; when you can finally make out their features, it’s as if someone gives you a shot of adrenaline.

“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, brushing your hair back and moving to stand up fully unsupported. “I thought you weren’t back until Friday?”

“Change of plans,” Vernon grins, scratching the back of his neck. “We drove through the night. I got home like… an hour ago.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed down, and hell, does he look incredible. Gone are the ripped jeans, scuffed boots, the leather jackets and chunky rings. Grey sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie (alternatively: the brightest outfit you’ve witnessed him in thus far) drown him, blurring out his usually so distinct frame. You pin both of these things as the reasons you hardly recognised him when your eyes were refusing to cooperate. Paired with what Seungkwan would call ‘dad-sneakers’ and completed by messy hair and tired, soft eyes?

If you could jump his bones right here, right now… God, you would.

“But hey, it’s nice to see you, too,” he adds facetiously.

“Quiet down,” you groan, fighting the urge to run over and envelop him in a hug. You’re not sure that he’d mind if you did, but you also don’t quite know if you’re ‘there’, yet. “Obviously it’s good to-...”

His arms, both of which have been stuck behind his back since he arrived, now move around to the front, revealing to you a takeout cup and a little brown box from the coffee shop down the street.

“Oh, shit. It is so good to see you.”

Vernon laughs, coming closer until he can set them both down on the counter. “If it’s wrong, Seungkwan gave me your order, so.”

You start to wonder how on Earth your employee and your… Vernon managed to have this conversation without you knowing. Does Seungkwan have his number? Did they happen across each other on one of their socials? Did Vernon call into the store while you were out in the bathroom a little while ago and ask? But whatever happened, you quickly stop caring to find out: popping the lid off your cup, the aroma of your favourite coffee immediately fills your senses. It’s so overwhelming that you think you might start to cry.

“Oh my God. You’re the best,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around the cup and taking a long sip, eyes rolling back into your head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vernon laughs, rolling up his sleeves before folding his toned forearms over his chest. “I got you a-... okay, they only had those gluten free brownies in, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if they taste the same as the normal ones but… like, he said you hadn’t eaten today and I know you said you liked brownies before, — if you don’t like those ones, it’s okay! I can go back, it’s–”

He trails off, cheeks turning pink when you tilt your head to one side and feel your brow go soft. He asks, “why… are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so cute,” you say, putting the cup down gently so as not to splash your drink all over the counter.

“Huh?”

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Vernon says, shaking his head.

You almost definitely hear a floorboard creak and quiet shushing sound from just around the corner towards the back room. You don’t call out your eavesdropping friends for trying to listen in on your conversation, though: it barely even crosses your mind. Besides... you can’t take your eyes off Vernon, even if you wanted to. He looks so soft. Like he needs to sleep for a whole twenty four hours, and he must feel like it too, but he came here first.

“So,” he starts, tapping his right thumb against the inside of his left elbow. (The reason why he came so quickly starts to become evident. He just couldn’t wait to ask.) “You don’t have to commit to anything right now…” The silver of one of his rings glints with every tiny movement. “…but, I was just wondering–”

Smiling at him over the top of your coffee cup, it feels like your heart could burst.

“I was just… wondering… if you’d thought any more about letting me take you out?”

You’ve been texting him almost every day since he left. He’s sent you a hundred and one pictures of statues and cool buildings and nice looking food and the sky, and far more animals than you think you’ve ever actually seen in real life. You’ve spoken to him about your strange customers. What’s going on with your friends. Sent him recommendations for songs that you discovered on obscure albums that you pulled out to play over the speakers.

One night after one of his shows, he called you. He was a little bit drunk at the time, chilling in his hotel room with a pizza as he informed you that he’d snuck out of an after-party super early but couldn’t get to sleep. With an audible pout, he went on to confess that he was feeling kind of lonely, that he just wanted to hear your voice: one thing led to another and you stayed up talking to him until he passed out at nearly 4 o’clock in the morning.

To put it simply…

“I’d still really like that,” you say. It’s incredible to you that you can see every one of his features brighten up.

“Okay,” he breathes, unwinding his arms and pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants now instead. “Okay, cool. I’ll… text you later? We’ll figure something out?”

“All right,” you agree. “Now go rest up, okay?”

He laughs as he swears that he’ll go back home and get some sleep, and with that, Vernon takes his leave. You’re once again alone, but this time you have a drink that could only hope to make you feel as energised as he does, and a treat nowhere near as sweet as him.

You aren’t complaining, though, and neither are the two men that miraculously reappear the moment the door closes again.

The smile Vernon leaves on your face doesn’t falter for the rest of your day.

You suppose a big part of the reason you haven’t dated anyone in a while is because you can’t stand the ‘talking stage’. That weird little limbo where you’re never sure if it’s too early to make certain jokes, where you’re checking and second-guessing all your texts, where you can’t figure out if someone’s really into you or if they’re just blowing up your phone to pass the time. The awkward small talk. The ‘getting to know each other’ part. The ‘why haven’t they replied yet — was it something I said?’ anxiety.

Thankfully, with Vernon, that’s not really something you have to worry about.

While he was away, you learned that he’s the kind of guy who just spews random facts at you in the middle of his day and then forgets to check his messages for three hours. Sometimes those facts are interesting things about himself. Other times, you’ve known him to shoot you a text just to announce [ just found out tigers have striped skin as well as fur. wild ].

(On one such occasion, Chan caught you giggling at your phone in the middle of a quiet Thursday afternoon, zooming in on a picture of Vernon’s heart shaped birthmark. This put a swift end to checking your messages while you’re at work.)

[ btw, im allergic to peanuts ], he told you one evening. Completely unprompted, just after dinner time. You spilled half of your glass of juice down your front in panic when you put two and two together and scrambled to ask him if he was okay. [ near miss, dw about it! just felt important haha ], he replied, and your response was just a picture of your newly stained t-shirt and a request for him to never do that to you again.

He can drive — at least, he has his licence — but he doesn’t have a car. He chooses public transport, and he tells you that it’s because he likes not having to worry about fuel prices and it’s ‘healing’ to zone out of reality on the train until he reaches his stop. He tells you that he came up with the melody and two verses of one of his favourite original songs on the bus to his parents house, and one time, he dropped a giant cockroach on a class field trip to the zoo because it tickled when it crawled over his palm and he didn’t like it.

(You later discovered that this piece of information was triggered by the appearance of a large bug in his shower.)

Last night, as you settled into bed after a whole evening of back and forth, he told you that he has all five of the top scores at the piano game in the arcade downtown, and that he has an approximate 75% success rate on claw machines. When you replied saying you hadn��t been to an arcade in about two years, he was horrified. Enough to send 7 broken heart emojis back to back, as individual messages. [ shakespeare himself couldnt write a tragedy that sad ], he said.

But, harrowed as he was by your admission, it did give him an idea.

That idea is exactly how you end up standing side-by-side at a basketball shootout game on Friday night. It’s how he ends up winning one of those cute reversible octopuses — true enough, on a claw machine — which he gives to you immediately. It’s how you watch him hunch over a pinball machine for twenty five minutes before he loses his ball, how you end up tied after four games of air hockey, at which point he calls it quits while citing a ‘cramping hand’.

It’s also how you deliver his ass to him in not one, but two rounds of bowling.

“All right — all right,” Vernon laughs, holding both his hands up in defeat as your final ball takes out all ten pins at the end of the alley. “You made your point. Damn.”

You shrug your shoulders as you walk back in his direction, picking up your glass from the table and sipping your soda through your straw.

(Though the arcade has an entire menu of cocktails, some of which you’ve never even heard of, the thought of navigating an evening alone with him under the influence of alcohol was totally unappealing after last time. Thankfully, Vernon agreed. You quietly think that being stone cold sober has made tonight even more enjoyable.)

“I told you,” you say when you finally sit down. He puts an arm around your shoulders straight away. Naturally, like it’s instinct. Like it’s a position he’s adopted a few hundred times before. “I’m undefeated.”

“We’ll see,” he says, tapping out a rhythm on the ball of your shoulder. “I still think you just got lucky.”

“So,” Vernon says once your leisurely stroll back lands you outside his place, kicking the toe of his left sneaker into the concrete. “What… are the chances that I get a do-over?”

You blink at him a few times, tilting your head. “What do you mean, a do-over?”

Does he not think this went well? Gods, it’s probably the best first date you’ve ever had, but what on Earth else could he mean by that? Did you say something earlier, and not realise? Has he not had fun? What does he m–

“I got these new coffee beans,” he says. “While I was away — and I figured something out with the-… the machine? So— ”

Ah. There he is.

You smirk at him, patting the outside of his bicep and rolling your eyes. When you glance down, Vernon is pulling out his key, thumbing over the ridges down the one side. He reaches for the door, happy to take your teasing as confirmation that yes, you’ll come up. Yes, he gets his ‘do-over’...

…but leave it to you to fall for the world’s dorkiest rockstar.

As he slips the key into his apartment door, there’s a steady pressure against the small of your back: the same one that’s been there ever since he gestured for you to step out of the elevator before him. One of his palms rests over the fabric of your t-shirt and you feel weirdly tingly because of it. He gently guides you inside once the door falls open and doesn’t move away when it’s locked again behind him.

With an anticipatory shiver, you turn around to face him. You make a point to leave just a matter of inches between your chests. To have your eyes soft, patiently waiting.

Vernon’s hands are - for the first time ever - cold when his fingers hesitantly come up to either side of your face, tilting your head up so that he can see you better, unobstructed by any shadows. You gasp at the contrast between them and your flushed, warm cheeks. He swallows thickly at the sound.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, gaze darting between the space separating your eyes from your lips. “We can slow it down, if you want. I just—...”

Your own hands find home against his chest in response, fingers curling into the muscle beneath them. Not harshly, definitely not so much that it could hurt — just enough that it makes him puff himself up a little bigger. Enough to make him square his shoulders as he drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth.

“Vernon,” you say quietly, pressing him backwards. Balling his t-shirt into your fists, you send him stumbling over his own feet before his shoulders find the wood of the front door. A quiet grunt escapes him on impact, but he just holds you closer. “Shut up ‘n’ kiss me. Please.”

Clumsiness aside, the moment he obediently ducks his head and presses his smiling mouth to yours, you feel weightless. Even when you tilt forward onto your toes to meet him halfway, it’s as if you’re not even touching the ground anymore: clouds beneath your feet have you floating. Everything about it is so very different from the last time.

It’s so much easier. Not just for you, either – you can feel it from him as well. Your collective baggage has been left out in the hall, barricading the door, shutting out the hesitation and nervousness and leaving you together, wholly alone, to just… be.

Vernon gets increasingly more brave as the seconds tick by. When you separate for air, his head tilts the other way, lips a little parted, hot breaths fanning over your skin as he meets you again, and again, and again. It’s the perfect give and take. Firm one second, waiting for you to chase him the next. The soft sounds he starts to make are amplified as his tongue presses against your bottom lip: he tests the waters, groaning into the heat of your mouth when you so happily invite him into it. He drinks you up for all you’re worth.

One of your hands uncurls from his chest and moves up to his head instead, threading into his hair at the top of his neck. It feels just as soft as it’s always looked, sliding through your fingers. A gentle pull makes him whine. He draws away from you. His lips are pink and shine with the gloss you touched up in the elevator’s mirror, his lids are heavy, his pupils blown, and looking up at him feels like staring into the sun; you physically can’t keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard to look away.

You tuck yourself into his neck as a compromise, laying gentle pecks everywhere you can reach. His aftershave leaves a bitter taste on your tongue as you touch the tip to a stretch of skin just beneath the harsh cut of his jawline, but the way he shudders and drops his hold down to your waist makes the sting in the back of your mouth all worth it. You only stop when one of his hands sinks lower still and he squeezes at your ass, making your eyes roll back.

He mistakes your surprise for hesitation, though.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, tipping his head back and pressing his crown into the door. Though he doesn’t withdraw his palm from your backside, he also doesn’t pinch at you again. You press your hips backwards, pushing into his touch to encourage him, with this green light he starts to knead at your cheek over the top of your skirt.

“You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself around you, do you?” You say, slipping one up the hem of his t-shirt as if to prove your point, splaying your fingers out over his stomach.

He takes a shallow breath, hovering with it in his lungs, holding back from saying something. You get there before he can.

“I want you,” you say certainly, pulling back from where you’ve been nestled into his shoulder so that you can look him in the eyes again. He releases that breath and his face flushes when his eyes find yours, moving both of his hands back up to your waist, tightly gripping at you as if his life depends on it as he nods.

“I just… I really don’t wanna mess this up,” he adds quietly. “I—”

When you kiss him again, hoping to further assure that you’re just as into this as he is, he reciprocates, sure. You can tell straight away that there’s a little less bite though — a stiffness to him. He doesn’t relax into you the same way he did a few minutes ago.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, falling back onto your heels. Is this because of the way things went last time, or are you going too fast for him? Selfishly, you hadn’t considered that could be a barrier. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know that right? It’s okay.”

You make to step away from Vernon, unwinding your arms from around him to give him some space but he refuses to let you go too far. His hold on you is just as firm as ever.

“Trust me, I want to,” he says. “It’s just–...”

You stay silent, waiting for him to finish. He chews at his bottom lip, his blush deepening right in front of your eyes. To try and steady him, you lay one of your palms over each of his biceps, saying, “Whatever it is – it’s all right.”

“I just… haven’t been with anyone since…”

And when you laugh, it’s not at him (at least, not for the reason a fly on the wall might initially assume). You drop your forehead down onto the muscle of his chest, feeling his heart’s erratic rhythm underneath his clothes as you loop one arm back up around his neck.

“I thought you were about to tell me something awful,” you chide him through your giggles, lightly swatting at his shoulder. He starts to loosen up beneath you, his own body beginning to shake with laughter too. Those strong arms pull you flush against him, the gentle shift of his weight from one foot to another rocking you both side-to-side. “Like– like you were secretly married or you realised you didn’t actually like me, or something. Jesus.”

He stays quiet for another few seconds, but even without speaking, you can feel how he shakes his head above you. You look back up at his face and brush his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering on his brow when you’re done.

“It’s okay,” you tell him for the third time. The last wisps of anxiety start to fade from his eyes, replaced with the same look he’s been wearing since he showed up at your apartment door earlier this evening. “I don’t care — I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

The kiss that follows lands hard and with it, Vernon succeeds in wiping your brain empty. You can barely remember what you were even giggling about a few seconds later.

“Don’t want you to go easy,” he insists against your lips. Then, he’s wallowing up your breathy sighs as he licks into your mouth again, pressing your tongue with his own, reminding you that he’s absolutely not incompetent, just rusty.

When you make it into his bedroom, confessions and various articles of your clothing forgotten out in the hallway, you separate from each other long enough for you to be able to to lay one hand on his bare chest and push him down onto the mattress. He bounces on the foam and pushes up on one elbow, watching as you sink down to your knees and press kisses down his stomach while your hands deftly take care of the button on his jeans.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You say to him as he lifts his hips up and lets you pull both his jeans and his boxers down in one sharp movement.

“M’not gonna want you to,” he laughs breathlessly, pushing a hand through his hair as he kicks the remainder of his clothes all the way off and nudges them away to the side. “But yeah. Okay.”

He looks so pretty like this and you can’t help but think he’s even prettier when the first time you curl your fingers around his length, his jaw falls slack and his fingers curl into the bedding underneath him. You drink him in and he watches you do it; your mouth is watering, desperate to feel him press down on your tongue, and you feel a pull towards him that you’ve never felt towards anyone before.

“God,” you whisper, shuffling on your knees to get a little closer.

“Okay?” Vernon asks. He tilts his head to the side and you nod up at him.

“Just… had a feeling you’d be…” you trail off, tugging a few times to feel its thickness in your fingers. Why are you mesmerised by it, a little? What the hell has gotten into you? “But it’s actually bigger, and—”

He laughs quietly and falls back onto the bed, crossing an arm over his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

“Yes, sir.”

You lean towards him and gather saliva on your tongue, dragging it from base to tip before closing your lips around the head. He gasps softly and holds onto his next breath, angling his head back further; you give a satisfied hum and slide a little further down.

The glide is made smoother by the spit your tongue left behind and that which mixes with his pre-cum in your mouth. As you start to bob up and down, some dribbles out past your lips so you start to move your hand, too, smearing the mess all over his cock. When it bumps the back of your throat — and on assessment, you realise there’s daylight between your lips and your fist — you squeeze your eyes closed and whimper softly, holding him in place while you adjust before you can take him deeper.

“Fuck— just like that,” he gasps out in a shattered groan when you start to move a little more fluidly, no longer too intimidated by your gag reflex preventing him from slipping down your throat. Your hand and your mouth work in tandem to get him riled. Every sound he makes feels like someone injects lust straight into your veins. When you look up at him from between your dewy lashes, you ponder that you’d watch him fall apart from this angle a hundred times a night forever and still not get bored.

Your jaw starts to ache from the thickness of having him in your mouth and the way he’s restraining himself from fucking his hips up to meet you tells you that he’s too polite to ask you for more. You suck harshly one last time before pulling away with a ‘pop’, using only your hand to pump his length as you shift down to gently suck one of his balls into your mouth.

The sound he makes is so fucking melodic. You think he’s made a similar one before when he lifts into a falsetto, and you’ve never felt more powerful than you do right now. Knowing you have someone with such a commanding presence eating out of your palm could really do something dangerous to your ego. It’s a bit of a miracle, therefore, that you recognise his desperate tapping at your shoulder, but the second you feel it you settle back from him, looking up at his impossibly tense abs and his blissed-out face.

You catch on quickly and feel your features split into a grin at the realisation. When it takes him a second, you know it’s because he’s still trying to remember the mechanisms it takes to breathe. Bless his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing himself to sit upright and running a hand through his hair. “It-… fuck, that was so…”

“What happened to ‘I don’t want you to go easy’ huh?” you tease, resting your chin on the top of his left thigh, grinning up at him.

“I’m gonna come if you keep going like that,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. “And trust me — I want to, but…” He swallows hard. “Not yet.”

You nod slowly up at him, starting to get up off the floor. You stop in your tracks when he says, “I’ve gotta taste you first. Please.”

Maybe it speaks too much to the quality of some of your previous lovers, but his desperation takes you a bit by surprise. You blink at him, ignoring how your thighs burn with the position you’ve frozen in.

“If— that’s okay?” He adds. “I’ve… been thinking about it? A lot. Especially since-”

“Shut up,” you breathe, finally standing all the way up. He shuffles back further onto the bed and you quickly move to straddle across his hips, one hand coming up to hold his jaw in place when you’re in place. “Of course it’s okay.”

You lean in for an impossibly needy kiss, only breaking away when you physically can’t breathe anymore. Vernon’s eyes flutter open at the same time as yours do and as you reach behind yourself with one hand to unclasp your bra, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

(He tells you that you are no fewer than three times before you fall asleep a few hours later.)

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. there's approx a scene and a half left for part 3 and then we're all done with this baby! stay tuned for that, coming soon.<3 p.s. no i will not apologise to jaehyun, this is what he gets for making me feel insane. thanks !

#vernon fanfic #vernon imagines #vernon x you #vernon fluff #vernon angst #vernon x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #kpop fanfic #vernon smut #seventeen smut #j writes.#svt smut #re. high fidelity.#*

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obsessive-valentine · 6 months

Text

Yandere!Hockey player x F!Figure skater

A Ice Hockey player takes a interest in the new girl, he’s determined to prove he’s not some lowlife-stereotypical popular kid but rather a man who can protect you and begins to set you up to be in a relationship with him. This ones a pretty subtle yandere.

You recently moved to a new town with your family and being a figure skater you had to not only find a new school but also a new ice rink to practice. Although your school seemed to have a pretty big hockey team that also used this rink so you had to work around them, this meant sometimes leaving school early for these lessons before the school team showed up or coming in late as they were leaving.

Today however you were particularly early leaving you to sit on the bench waiting for the hockey team to pack it in, you distracted yourself with with your phone or a book but you seemed to also be distracting one of the players in particular. He knew you from some of his classes but you never acknowledged each other, mostly because he was apart of the annoyingly loud and popular boys, and he along with his friends know for throwing parties and dating around- they didn’t even bother to pretend to take school seriously it was just a place to hang out and poke fun at people.

You however were comfortable with the small but friendly group you’d been accepted into when you joined the new school, you avoided drama and most parties -preferring to be ice skating or hanging out with your friends. So he was a bit confused why you seemed to be capturing his attention so much, you were quite the opposite of his ex-girlfriends. “What’s wrong with you!? Get your head in the game!” He was snapped back into reality by being told off by his coach, he huffed in response and his eyes darted back to you before joining the game again. You had glanced up to see the commotion and briefly locked eyes with him before going back to what you was doing.

“Someone’s in love” his friend teased coming up behind him only to be shoved back in response “piss off” he grumbled. He kept his eyes on the puck the whole game not trusting himself to look up again, and before he knew it his coach was calling it a day. “Come one let’s go can’t keep buddy’s girlfriend waiting can we now?” his friend once again picking the bear figuratively and literally, it took all his strength to not shove him once again, in fact he didn’t even respond just turned his back and made his way off the rink followed by the team.

He was disappointed in himself, letting a girl come between him and his team until he looked over at you once more as he left for the lockers, you were lacing your skates obviously a bit annoyed at the comments from the boys poking fun at you and him, but damn were you pretty even when you were angry.

You darted out on the ice once the team was gone and made a mental note to come way later so you don’t bump into them again, because god that was awkward. You had the ice to yourself as it was late and you only really trained with your coach on weekends unless you chose to compete, so you stuck your earphones in and went through routines and tricks you’d like to brush up on.

20 minutes had gone by and when you looked up you saw the hockey player standing sheepishly by the shirt wall dividing the rink from the bleachers, you took a earphone out to question him but between you catching your breath and taking it out he had already started to explain “I literally just came in here I swear I’m not a creep... I just wanted to say sorry” he started, you was about to tell him it’s okay so he’d leave but he cut you off again “you’re in my science class right?”

“Yeah and a few others” you sighed to yourself realising it won’t be so easy to get him to leave “oh sorry I don’t really pay attention to much it’s nothing personal. But really they can be asses but they don’t mean harm, maybe I can make it up to you though?” He had a certain charm for such a seemingly tough guy and admittedly very hot, but you didn’t know him aside from the loud jokes he made, him and his friends rough shoving each other into lockers in the hallways, or the rumours of what girl he was hooking up with during a party.

“I don’t know, it fine really we can just leave it at that” you wasn’t sure you wanted to hang around a guy like that, but then again you never saw him pick on people, or continue provoking after a teacher tells him off, he wasn’t as crude as other popular people you’ve come across. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. “Please just umm, do you walk back home? It’s getting dark and I can drive you” he seemed so desperate to make it right, it seemed so out of character especially over something so small.

“I’m gonna be here for another 20 minutes at least, and I’m not getting in your car, I don’t know what you’re like” you said bluntly making hhis eyes widen in realisation “oh right you no that makes sense, okay I get it I’ll get outta your hair but I promise I’ll make it up to you” god did he feel stupid, offering a girl, that he could very well overpower, to join him in his car. ‘Now she probably thinks I’m some lowlife like the rest of them’ he though to himself as he got into his car.

The whole way home he brainstormed some ways to get closer to you, he could pass up this opportunity.

...

“Hey there you are!” Like a relentless puppy he jogged to catch up to you in the hallway “Hi, you’re really hard to find, I mean there is a couple hundred people in this school” you stared at him confused “right um can we maybe hang out for a bit, maybe we can eat lunch together” he could see that you were going to try gently decline “-BECAUSE, I really need your help with” he took a deep breath trying to come up with something “History, yeah history, please it would be a great help”

“fine I guess” you suppose one hour with him can’t go to bad, just let him copy your notes and eat your lunch. However you both spent most of the hour talking, he showed you pictures of his dog thinking it would loosen you up and encouraged you to talk about yourself, eventually you stopped trying to shift the topic back to history and talked to him like he was a friend.

“I’ll see you at the rink?” He smiled back at you, hopefully, he was falling deeper and deeper for you “maybe I will” you blushed a bit packing your bag faster to make it to class. “Good” he said more to himself before leaving.

...

Every now and then he would check the bleachers, hoping to see you, until he did, you gave him a smile as you sat and he waved back, you couldn’t see it under the mask but his smile could very well have reached his ears. He hung back once again, once his team cleared out you joined him on the ice “nice of you to join me, starting to wonder if you would show up at all” he joked.

He spent this time trying to get closer to you once again, he begged you to show him tricks, some he attempted half-assed to get a laugh out of you, then you both raced from one end to the other after some provoking on his part, and after a long talk he asked once again “can I maybe drive you home today?” He hopefully looked to you, you gave it a long thought “I guess so, only if you don’t mind waiting around a while longer for me to actually get some practice in” you gave into him.

He grinned hard “that’s alright with me, I’ll be back in a bit take all the time you need” he took off to the changing room, you trust him more than you did just a few days ago, you talk to him and not so begrudgingly anymore, hell you even entertained him messing around with you for over half an hour. This was significant progress to him.

He rushed to sit back on the bleachers and watch you skate for a bit. He couldn’t stop thinking if this is what it’s like to be so truly in-love, is this what they mean by love at first sight. Every conversation with you made him more sure and sure you were so much more than any of the past girls he’s messed around with even the most serious of relationships would never come close to how he felt with you.

But he’s getting ahead of himself- ‘baby steps’ he had to remind himself, he’s not going to ruin this. He walked you to his car and opened the door for you, this was the start of something. He’s driving you to your house today but soon it will be his house to hang out then hangouts will become sleepovers and sleepovers will become... well he’ll pass that stage when he gets there. For now he’ll treasure the beginning of a long loving life together, he’s sure of it.

#x reader #yandere #yandere oc #ice hockey oc #figure skater reader

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

Text

THE COD MALEWIFE

♡ random headcanons ♡

☆ starring ☆

♡ könig aka the most babygirl of them all ♡

Tw: mentions of anxiety, weight and mature language. Other than that pure fluff

A/N: YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU DON'T GET IT HOW MUCH THIS MAN IS STARTING TO GROW ON ME. THIS FUCKING TALL ASS BITCH AND THE OTHER GIANT JACK SKELLIGNTON FUCKER ARE THE BAIN OF MY EXISTENCE. I needed to do write for him, you can blame it on tiktok and it's sinful content and @bloodlst for fueling my obsession

He knows a lot of cool fidgeting tricks with pencils or knives because he needs to keep his hands busy when he's nervous.

It's almost like a security blanket for him when he's around too many people, he carries something he can fidget with and uses it

I can't stress this enough but tall people have back pains and oh boy if könig is tall

He is always cranky in the morning because of it and because he loves to just sleep in the weirdest fucking positions ever

Which is funny cause otherwise his postures is always very straight and stiff, it just that when he sleeps he gets all weird

About that, he hates, absolutely despises, the beds they have during missions

THEY'RE TOO SMALL OKAY? AND TOO THIN AND HE CAN'T FUCKING REST WELL AT ALL

which makes me absolutely sure he downs coffee likes it's fucking water

His breakfast is basically a big ass mug of coffee first and then some herbal or fruity tea or maybe some juice

He loves sweets but has a weirdly good self control

He just likes the idea of savouring things rather than eating all at once bc they're so good

Besides I just know he has also a tendency to gain weight more easily than the others

He just tries to be as healthy and balanced with things as much possible bro

The only times he doesn't pays much attention to what he eats is around the holidays or when he gets to see his family

Which always ends up in him putting some weight but he doesn't cares that much, he always gets in shape before getting back to work

He loves to read, he carries a book everywhere he goes and ITS THAT TYPE OF PERSON WHO CAN'T FUCKING HIDE THEIR REACTION TO WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE STORY

You can actively see this unit of a man closing the book and like getting up and walking away two steps just to turn around and keep reading

HE CAN'T HANDLE THE DRAMA OKAY? LEAVE HIM ALONE

He does not look his age at all. Either bc of how youthful he acts or bc he looks really young no one has ever guessed his age and it's something he find quite funny so he just let people try to figure it out on their own

People are often really mean with him and sometimes really harsh. He knows they're just playing around and they mess up with everyone like that but he gets genuinely hurt sometimes

No one notices cause he always takes it like a champ tho

I feel like ghost kind of gets annoyed at him. Not for the reason you may think

He's just looks always so serene and at peace, but most importantly happy and it's something ghost can't comprehend given what they do for a living

Key word is looks

König is not a sad person by default and he recovers pretty quickly for certain things but he always carries around a weight of guilt and self doubt that is unbearable sometimes

Much like ghost, this man is kind of scare of himself really

He always worries about ending up being some sort of psycho who has no regards towards human lives

He gets so carried away when he's on the mission and often does not realise how efficient and kind of brutal he can get

He is absolutely scared of ghost. Everytime he is in the same room with him he just gets so nervous he ends up embarrassing himself more than once

Look, I may be projecting onto him but I KNOW THIS MAN AND HE HAS HIS JAW FUCKED UP FROM CLENCHING IT TOO MUCH

like I have anxiety and my jaw is dislocated cause ever since I was a kid I was always clenching my jaw while sleeping or unconsciously while going about my day so I just know that someone like him has the same problem

He has definitely popped his jaw and hurted his ear more than once and has ADORABLE CROOKED TEETH CAUSE I DO AND I WANT HIM TOO OKAY?

he is really good at signing but everyone thinks he's not because the few times he has tried to sing in front of someone he fucked up from being too nervous

He knows how to play piano. As matter of fact he has one at home

Prefers wine over beer or cocktails but has a weird ass liking for strong liquors

And BTW he is annoyingly hard to get drunk, this man could get down shot after shot and still be as lucid as ever

Which soap found out by embarrassing himself. König ended up trying to take care for him the whole night cause he felt guilty

When he gets angry is not a pretty scene. He's always so jolly and easy going even if you're rude to him so is hard for him to get angry, but when he snaps this man is not playing around

Smells of fresh laundry and lemon perfume

He is still pretty mad about not being able to be a sniper. Specially because he's good at his job, he knows he is but no one believed in him and his abilities bc of his height and his anxiety

When he was younger everyone always used to talk over him because he had difficulty with speech due to his anxiety

He used to get so frustrated to the point of crying and since no one ever had the patience to listen to him he just used to write on notebooks all the things no one ever wanted to hear

He still does it and has like a lot of diaries filled with rants, thoughts, jokes ecc

When he was younger he used to listen to the FILTHIEST SONGS not knowing what they were about because he didn't understand English well

When he's nervous his accent slips a little bit

He writes letters to his loved ones and specially his s/o when his away from home and has the prettiest handwriting ever

#könig #könig cod #könig cod mw2 #könig cod headcanons #cod headcanons #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #codmw2 #cod

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sailorblossoms · 25 days

Text

Baz's raised eyebrow:

(yet another "Simon identifies as 'Baz-sexual' for very good reasons' post)

few things have annoyed me more with these books than when people do not take Simon's "I don't know anything about anything but maybe I'm just a Baz-sexual" comments seriously (dismissing it with a combination of not paying attention to what he's putting down and good old confirmation bias). He even says it in less "goofy" ways with lines such as "he's the only person I have ever wanted" (in the context of thinking about having sex) (note the emphasis on ever) (yes, it's one of the clues saying he didn't want to have it with Agatha, in case it's not clear)

"Like Baz has only ever wanted Simon, Simon has only ever wanted Baz," is necessary to bring up before I get to my point here. I have seen Simon being read as in love or attracted to Agatha ("he must have been or else how they had sex?"... I mean, Simon tells you why it happened without attraction, but even if he didn't, we could make an alphabetized list of reasons it can happen without it, the desire to fit in is no joke) or the idea of Simon liking all sorts of girls, including the girl he pointedly doesn't notice despite her being obvious to others, for the sake of drama and conflict. I have wondered if they don't believe the characters, or if they find the highlighted sentence here boring. "It's boring if the characters only want each other," "in real life people want multiple people" – indeed, but not everyone is wired the same (and why are we stuck on "real life" so much anyway in stories about half-dragon and vampire boys falling in love). But it's not like this sentence is without conflict. Note Baz's eyebrow...

In CO, when Simon says Trixie is cute, Baz's reaction is a boyish "I'm going to puke" comment, which is likely part of how he dealt with jealousy and thinking Simon was straight for years: masking his feelings with "harsh" or sort of "edgy" jokes (probably not the right words to use, but getting too hung up on precise wording is the reason I never finish these posts). In awtwb, Simon calls Pippa cute, and Baz raises an eyebrow...

By those reactions, we could say the idea of Simon calling someone cute because he finds them attractive crosses Baz's mind – or is something he feels in some way, even if the thought doesn't explicitly cross his mind. It's something the reader might assume as well... however, I don't think the way Simon uses cute – which can be used in many different situations – says anything about attraction for him. I mean, a gay man can see a girl being cute or gorgeous as well – Baz certainly does! (attraction is portrayed in these books as thoughts derailed, repetition, sentences being cut off, fixating in a detail no one else notices like they do – you see it with Baz and Simon, Agatha and Niamh, Shepard and Penny. Shep doesn't just call Penny cute – he loses his entire goddamn mind for a whole page about her cuteness and her knees. It's not just a passing comment).

I don't think those scenes when Simon says "cute" is highlighting something about him, other than the fact that he's able to note cuteness. I think it's saying more about Baz's insecurities (I know I once posted something long about it somewhere...) Baz brings attention to it in a way with his reactions... because he's bothered by it. It's something that's sort of hidden and sort of contained, but it's there.

Baz doesn't find himself desirable, partly because of his vampiric nature. But part of it is also about the complicated and messy fear that perhaps... Simon has a problem with being with a man (I know I have unpacked this in other posts, finding them though...). Perhaps "a girl would be better" (It's messier with boys than with girls, it's a thought that comes out before he catches himself with "I don't actually know anything about being with boys or girls".... "I don't know anything about being in a relationship," he says, while still being able to catch there was something wrong with Agatha and Simon's relationship when Simon talks about – because Simon will process things he would rather avoid when it's about opening up to Baz, he wants Baz to know things that would help Baz understand him better, even if he himself would rather not understand... still Baz can't let go of the programming of all those years believing in the golden couple – he has spent a longer time believing that than dating Simon, after all) (Agatha is alive and beautiful, the sort of beauty that's used to "embody" "desirability".... and Baz is "not alive"...) (as a side note, have you noticed the idea – or the actual action – of sex with Agatha is used both with Simon and Baz to indicate a lack of desire toward women?)...

While Simon thinks of Baz as the only person he has ever wanted – Baz is as desirable as it gets for him – Baz struggles with feeling desirable at all. Baz doubts and wonders and has to catch himself – even if he doesn't notice he's doing that. Even if he doesn't conciously think "a beautiful girl who is alive is more preferable than me, a gay male vampire." That is a far more interesting conflict than Baz having legit reasons to be jealous, I think. The fact that he has truly nothing to feel jealous about, and yet... he just can’t help it. It's hard to go against years of programming, of going against the idea that everything about yourself is undesirable and it's better to hide it – another way he matches with Simon. They also match in their insecurities, with small differences: Baz is so amazing and attractive while Simon doesn't feel like he's good enough for him, he can do better than him, etc... while Baz clearly only has eyes for Simon, Simon feels like Baz is merely stuck with him. And the conflict here is that you think "they need to TALK and voice their thoughts for the love of god, what do you mean Baz doesn't know Simon sees him as the love of all his lives??"... talking is not enough. That Simon and Baz only have eyes for each other is not without conflict. Sometimes we need to keep hearing some things, and even then... the fears and insecurities don't go away. Especially when we have spent a really long time believing ourselves to be unwanted, undesirable, something to be hidden. When we have been exposed to things that confirmed those beliefs for longer than we have been exposed to things that challenge them

#this is an old post (that was in my drafts)#i have been feeling like letting this blog go but I'm hauted by the 30+ posts in my drafts i never finished #snowbaz #long and barely comprehensible as always #i might have lost the point along the way #simon snow #baz pitch #simon snow trilogy #carry on #baz grimm pitch #baz x simon #awtwb #wayward son

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woo-wahhhh · 19 days

Text

[ hopeful is your love exposed in daylight–; in which hiiragi walks into pothos just as umemiya tells you to never give up for your crush will succeed // a/n: hopefully not too ooc... ik this man is awkward af ]

hiiragi knows about your crush on him; actually, maybe now he knows about it too well. he'll give you credit, before anything though– you were pretty damn good at keeping it under wraps. you were meticulous.

if you were giving him a gift, you'd make sure to give them to some of the others too in a way that it would take careful notice to figure out that his had a lot more effort put into it than the others.

you didn't talk to him more sweetly than you did with anyone else. you bandaged his wounds every now and then, but then again, you did that to everyone else too. nothing you did could qualify as special treatment.

you just had... exceptionally bad luck, that's all. hiiragi had to pity the fact that your best friend's adoptive brother was a loudmouth– it was honestly a miracle he hadn't caught umemiya's careless blabbering about your crush on him earlier.

it truly was just bad luck that sakura and co. happened to be in the building too. maybe if his dumbass romance sensor hadn't gone off full blast, and suo hadn't started giggling, your ragtag gang would have been able to scramble an excuse up on the fly when he'd walked in to pothos.

and maybe, hiiragi himself was also to blame. maybe he should've kept a straight face when he opened the door right as you told umemiya to shut the hell up. and maybe he shouldn't have crowed a stunned, "what the hell?" which then prompted you to sprint out of the café without a second thought.

"you idiots, look what you've done!" kotoha was the first to yell, jabbing a very accusatory finger at all the boys piled into her café. "what happened to subtlety, huh? keeping secrets? being mindful of others feelings!?"

"weren't you yapping with (name) too?" sakura pointed out dryly. he didn't seem to care, now relaxed that main source of romantic feelings (you) were gone.

"that's not the point–!" she argued back.

they launched into a predictable squabble, dragging suo, nirei and practically the entirety of fuurin into the argument, but for all he'd done, it was surprisingly umemiya who made the most sensible call by innocently blurting out, "shouldn't you go after (name)?"

"ume, why would the person who just got dumped want to see his face?" kotoha interjected, scowling. hiiragi grimaced at the choice of words.

"i didn't dump anyone–,"

"– and that might as well have been a metaphorical rejection," suo quipped, calmly sipping his tea. someone was clearly enjoying the drama. "but if it wasn't a total rejection, then i believe it would be best for you to quickly clear up that misunderstanding," he slyly added.

and that was how hiiragi found himself snooping through all the nearby alleyways as he tried to find you after everyone had unanimously agreed with suo's advice.

he had called out your name aimlessly, the clamminess of his balled up fists annoying him as the whole ordeal gave him mild indigestion. come to think of it, he idly pondered while crunching a tablet with his teeth, the current box of meds i have are from (name) too.

he hadn't thought too hard about why you had the exact brand of medicine that he usually had on hand– he just assumed maybe you needed it too, without questioning why it was fully sealed and unused when you'd wordlessly passed it to him. the more he thought about it the more random– er, well, what he thought was random– occurrences kept flooding into his mind, all in which you'd treat him so sweetly.

his first question was, 'why?' it wasn't like hiiragi had a low self-esteem or anything, but he had to say that there were objectively better looking and more charming people than him.

hell, he was certain he only ever a handful of proper conversations with you– everything else was a variety of random small talk ranging from greetings to nagging about being careful to not get hurt.

you were way too meticulous, if he was being honest. how the hell was he supposed to notice if you never said a thing!?

when he'd finally found you, you were tucked away behind one of the many restaurants, hidden away behind a stack of crates knees drawn up to your head as you buried your face into them.

"it's over, kotoha," you called out without raising your head. hiiragi froze in place, awkwardly debating whether he should clarify he wasn't kotoha. and yet, out of a guilty sense of curiosity, he stayed quiet. "hiiragi will never like me."

that's not true, he thought, he had always been a bit fond of you. it was always amusing to see how despite your regular quietness, your steps always had a bit of peppiness to them when you would come to great customers with a big grin.

you paused for a bit, perhaps taking 'kotoha's' silence as disappointment. "look, i know what you're gonna say– that i shouldn't give up– but it's really over. did you see his face when he walked in? he fucking hates me–!"

"i don't hate you, (name),"

hiiragi's voice cracked towards the end, he realized as he cursed the boyish edge to his voice. his ears felt far too hot but with a sharp inhale, he steeled himself to face your flabbergasted gaze.

"oh my god," you croaked out, flinching like a skittish cat as you immediately jumped to your feet. "o-oh my god," you repeated, the sudden horror dawning upon you. you cradled your hands together in front of your heart, hands balled up as if to protect yourself. "i-i'm so sorry– i– i'm going to leave, so–,"

"hey, don't just– wait!" without so much as even a first thought, he lunged forward, his hands grabbing yours so you couldn't dash away. "don't go running away before you hear me out!" hiiragi didn't mean to chastise you with the same intensity that he used with his underclassmen, but at the sight of your frazzled expression, he couldn't help but sigh. "look, i know you're probably embarrassed out your mind–," that's cute, he thought absently, watching as you squeezed your eyes shut, nodding vigorously to his words, "– but won't you hear me out just this once?"

your eyebrows were gently furrowed as if you couldn't believe what he was saying, your pursed lips quivering as you tried to find the right words. out of habit, you tried to dig your nails into your palms, only to run into hiiragi's hands that were gently cradling yours.

"it's okay. you can keep doing that. i'm pretty sturdy, you know," he mumbled, reassuringly tightening his grip. "enough of that though, do you... really like me?"

the feeling of his calloused fingers against your skin burned as you swallowed down your embarrassment to meekly blurt out, "i'm... i'm sorry. i really do," you admitted, feeling the heat dance up your spine. despite the shade of the alleyway, you couldn't bring yourself to lift your head and meet hiiragi's gaze.

silence hung between you two, heavily. you could feel the embers of his gaze upon your skin. did he hate you? did he think this was awkward? does he dislike whatever the hell you guys were doing? the rush of questions were so overwhelming that it all came pouring out.

"b-but i can fix that!" you hastily blurted out.

"... fix... your feelings?" hiiragi parroted, blinking uncertainly.

"yeah, i'll make sure to stay out of your way!" you suddenly exclaimed, spurred by a bizarre kind of newfound confidence from who knows where. "if you tell kotoha when you're coming to pothos, i can just make sure i'm never there at the same time! that way, you don't have to be uncomfortable," you rambled on.

"you don't have to do that," hiiragi insisted, but you shook your head stubbornly.

"it'll just be awkward to be around your friends if i'm there," you smiled faintly, your gaze glued to the ground. "i would hate to make everyone uncomfortable." you sounded just fine again. in fact, he could tell that if he were to turn you down right there and then, you would do exactly as you were saying, with all the conviction of your heart. but he could see that you were biting your cheek every time you paused.

and to be honest, he was getting sick of it.

"listen to me, would you?!" hiiragi snapped, pressing both of his hands against your cheeks and raising your face up to meet his eyes. he didn't mean to be so abrupt, but perhaps it was just in his nature. "you won't make it awkward for anyone–!"

"y-you don't know that–!"

"– if they do, i'll deal with it." the resolute tone of his voice left you speechless. how could you argue with someone so certain? hiiragi was always charming that way– awkward, and nagging, but when it came down to it, his confidence was outstanding. and it was that confidence that kept you hoping he might feel the same.

you didn't say anything, choosing to bask in the warmth of his palms against your cheeks, relishing the feeling of his thumbs idly padding across your cheekbones to catch the overwhelmed tears that had accidentally spilled out.

hiiragi called out you name, the corners of his lips curling up in a self-satisfied smirk when you finally met his eyes out of your own accord.

"you know, i got tickets for my favourite band recently,"

"o-oh... i'm happy for you?"

"no, numbskull, i'm saying that if you're cool with it, maybe... you could come with?" why the fuck am i embarrassed now? hiiragi cursed to himself, grinding his molars together as if that would somehow make him feel less sheepish.

"you want to go... with me?" you echoed incredulously.

"i... i don't know if i like you as much as you like me, but i'd like to start by hanging out more– how's that?"

you could almost start crying again, but you held it back. "if- if you'll have me, i'd like that," you murmured, fully entranced by the triumphant grin he flashed you,

"then it's a date!"

it took a moment for you to process what he said, and when it clicked, your legs gave out. hiiragi's reflexes were quick, however, so instead of toppling to the ground, he helped you clumsily sit down on the pavement.

to be honest, that– that was a sensory overload; it wasn't just the relief that had suddenly flooded into your system, it was his palm was flat against your back, it was the first grip around your arm, it was that maddening scent of his cologne, and it was the concerned timbre of his voice as he fretted over you.

"i'm fine, i'm fine," you reassured, fruitlessly trying to calm your blushing profile by fanning yourself with one hand while the other tugged on his jacket to get his attention. "uhm, but why are you blushing?" you suddenly blurted out, curiously gazing at him.

indeed, hiiragi's face was flushed down to his neck; sure, he was acting all high and mighty, but he was just a teenage boy and he had never asked someone out before.

"for no reason! just–! don't look at me for now!" he crowed, pressing his palm over your eyes to obscure your vision– a clumsy, flustered action that reminded you of why you'd fallen in love in the first place.

hiiragi was embarrassed, yes, but the sound of your giggles echoing in the alleyway was enough to make it worth it.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker #hiiragi x reader #hiragi toma x reader #hiiragi touma #toma hiragi #in my head hiiragi's actually quite awkward #like outside of his leader best upperclassman and fighter moments hes so fucking awkward #but here's the thing in that one q&a he was the only one to offer his number #it gave me the impression that as long as he was even a bit charmed by the person asking he would agree to go on a date #also another q&a cameo is his little band tickets #i've grown fond of hiiragi and this particular reader #might write more of them #wc: 1934~ish words #my writing #my posts

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madebyrolo · 2 months

Text

Holding me and holding back pt.3

⚘.

She/her

Rafe Cameron x pouge reader

summary: Kook vs pouge still exists on the mainland.

obx master list (find mini series here!)

─── ʚɞ ⋅ ᯓᡣ𐭩 ⋅ ୨୧ ───

As you finished doing your hair Rafe finally arrives back from breakfast.

“Good morning princess” Rafe says as he enters the room with just keys.

“Hey babe, where’s breakfast?” You ask as you place a kiss on his cheek in search of your jewelry.

“Change of plans, had the little altercation with Maybank. Thought we go out mainland.” He says with a guilty smile.

You sigh “What happened?”

“Well I was getting coffee and jj happened to be working in the cafe. I order your signature iced cameral macchiato 3 creamers and when I went to go pick it up jj said “hmm got the same coffee order as y/n. are you wearing her black lace pantees too?” hes lucky i didn’t punch him.”

“Rafe come on we talked about this.”

“How does he know what panties you wear? I bough those for you?” He asked as his tounge swiped his lips.

“Rafe we’ve spent days at the chateau and he just probably saw them with my laundry or something calm down” you say putting on a gold necklace.

“You’re right. beside he couldn’t even get in your pants if he wanted too.” He chuckled as he went into the bathroom.

“Oh and I threw the drink at him.”

“RAFE!”

𐙚 -time skip- 𐙚

You and Rafe are sitting on the ferry, hand in hand with matching outfits he insisted on wearing.

“Remember the time when we went to Charlotte too see The Weeknd?” Rafe said looking at you.

“Yeah it was really fun, though it was hard to cover up to the pouges” you say scrunching your face as the sun hit it.

“Ugh why do they get suspicious of your happiness?” He playful rolled his eyes.

“Maybe it’s the fact that they all work 3 jobs a week to survive and I went on a thousand dollar trip for ‘funsies’ but hashtag idk Rafe.” you blanky stated.

“I bet jj had a lot to say”

“Oh the mouth on that boy- wait Rafe enough with the jj jealousy!l

“Not jealous.” He said not even convincing himself.

“What is it then. Love? Obsession?” You joke

“Okay fine jealously…” he said under his breath

“Aww Rafe Cameron’s a bitch??” You gasp dramatically.

“Okay whatever, besides im on the date with you right now”

“Yeah well now believe it.”you go in for a kiss.

“Oh by the way Sarah is on mainland shopping so she’s gonna meet us for brunch.” Rafe said as He pulled away.

“Wait so I’m official meeting your sister?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Duh you’re my girlfriend”

Hearing him say it had butterflies going crazy in your stomach.

“And you already met my parents, and wheez. I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything to Sarah” he said with a small smile.

“You don’t think she’ll like hate me?”

“Why would she hate you?”

“ you know kook, pouge, you practillay started the so called war yourself.”

“Well you're different” Rafe said pushing hair behind your hair.

His comment left you confused, but you just brushed it off.

“Also her and Kiara have some beef. I don’t know what went down but she they don't seem to hide their hatred. ”you say worried.

“And if she hates kie, how do you think she’s gonna react to meeting her bestfriend?” You began hugging yourself in a comforting manner.

“i know how Sarah gets with their drama or whatever, but if you get caught in the crossfire I’ll be there to put it out.” Rafe wrapped a arm around you.

You sat in his embrace trying to save this memory. This is the Rafe you knew.

ੈ𑁍༘⋆

As you guys exit the ferry, Rafe has a Uber waiting already.

“Okay so we’re doing brunch, then a little sight seeing and shopping. And if all goes well maybe with Sarah.” He said opening the car door falling you in.

“Hopefully with a full stomach it’ll be less intimidating.” You say putting your seatbelt on.

“Giving the fact you both love shopping, and annoying me, the odds may be in your favor.”

“Ha ha very funny” you side eye him.

“In fact I don’t love shopping, you just fueled an addiction.”

“Call me your sugar daddy”

“Oh I will.”

Soon enough you guys arrive to the restaurant.

As you guys enter the restaurant you sit a table. The waiter hands 2 menus, soon asking for a third. You order a waters for now until Sarah arrives.

“So you think we can hit up Victor secret for a new set? Because jj seen my hopefully now old ones” you said with a fake grimace.

“I’ll buy you as many as you want if we can burn all the ones he’s seen.” He said looking through the menu.

“So why today am i meeting Sarah?” you ask Rafe taking a gulp of your water.

“Why not? Besides plans were ruined cause of your friends.” he smirked

His comment pissed you off a bit. You hate when he talks shit about the pouges, your best friends.

“Maybe if you didn't assualt them we wouldn't have a problem.” you scoff

“They don't know a ounce of respect, so why should I?” Rafe crossed his arms

“Because your a good person Rafe” you put down your glass.

“So you're agreeing with me, they terrible people?” he says

“Not even a little bit. I'm just saying be the bigger person.”

“I mean I got the big dick so I pretty much am-”

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom I’ll be right back.” You cut him off, sliding your now empty water glass.

You get up walking around the back to the restroom.

As you wash your hands you pull your phone and check the messages you’ve gotten practically spammed with.

──────────────────────

⌞ Pope hitting the Dougie. ⌝

────────────────────────────────────

9:38am

What does the j stand for: Rafe just threw coffee in my face😍

Kiki do you love me: omg what!?

Johnathan: wow can’t tell if should laugh or ?

What does the j stand for: why is there a or.

Hope 🥺: Since I’m a good person I won’t be laughing in this group chat.

Kiki do you love me: I see him giggling at the table while im working at the wreck.

What does the j stand for: wow okay I see where I stand in this friendship 🕳️ 🚶🏼‍♂️

Johnathan: he did say group chat…

Kiki do you love me: what even happened ?

Hope 🥺: open his mouth ♡ hearted by 2 people

What does the j stand for: to sum it all up I called him a sissy because he had the same coffee order as y/n

Johnathan: LMFAOOO

Kiki do you love me: wow okay that’s kinda funny 😭

Hope 🥺:ohh now I want a iced caramel macchiato

Johnathan: that’s like the most basic order jj. I’m gonna laugh because you yourself in that position.

What does the j stand for: no but like he even got the extra 3 creamers….

Kiki do you love me: y/n has good coffee orders you can’t blame her 🤷🏽‍♀️

Hope 🥺: omg Twinem!!

Johnathan: okay pope has been too funny and it’s only 8am

10:07am

What does the j stand for: I quit before I could get fired 🤞🏼

Johnathan: you lasted 2 months. That’s the longest you held a job!!!

Kiki do you love me: woohh the bear minimum !!

Hope 🥺: how’d you know you would get fired

What does the j stand for: it’s Rafe.

Johnathan: I’m assuming you’re coming over?

What does the j stand for: yes master.

Kiki do you love me: count me and pope in. I’m gonna try to leave early then I’ll pick him up.

What does the j stand for: y/n you in?

Kiki so you love me: is she even alive, she hasn’t texted all morning.

Hope 🥺: so that’s why the birds are singing

Johnathan: you’re killing me pope.

12:34pm

What does the j stand for: y/n wya.

Kiki do you love me: I swear if ur still sleeping…

Hope 🥺: hate to admit it but kinda want you here. Jjs yapping away

Johnathan: #missingyou 🩷🩷

Hope 🥺: #wakeup

💬

God you completely forgot about the pouges.

What do you tell them? This is like your 6th trip to the mainland, they’re gonna start to get suspicious.

Y/n: I had to go with my mom to see my aunt sorry guys :(

Perf.

Hope 🥺: I thought you went last week?

Damn you pope.

Y/n: she’s old pope.

Now that isn’t a lie.

You put your phone away, quickly recollecting yourself in the mirror and heading back out.

As you walk towards the table you see the second blonde Cameron.

Ohh things just got real.

Rafe spots you soon getting up before you can reach the table.

“So Sarah I want you to meet y/n, my girlfriend.” He said with a genuine smile.

He wraps he arm around your waist as she also gets up.

She looks you up and down, analyzing you like an fbi angent.

“Hey Sarah. It’s nice to meet you.” You say breaking the ice. Very cold ice.

“Nice to meet you too y/n” she said reaching her hand out for a handshake.

You took it, her grip somewhat firm but you couldn’t help but notice how aware she was.

“so let’s sit! I’m starving the ferry ride was long!” Rafe said trying to ease the tension.

“Oh the menu looks good” Rafe says examining it thoroughly.

“Rafe we’ve been here before” Sarah say looking up at him through her menu.

The waitress comes up with a notepad before Rafe can argue back.

“Welcome to sunny kitchen, my names Anne I will be your server for today. What can I get started for you?” The waiter said in fake happiness.

“Ice cameral macchito.” You and Sarah both say in unison.

“Oh sorry you go first” Sarah smiles

“Uh ice cameral macchiato with 3 creams” you tell the waitress

“Same for me” Sarah says

“I’ll take an orange juice” Rafe says as the waitress writes it all down.

“Alright I’ll be back with your drinks!”

“Didn’t know you guys had the same coffee order” Rafe spoke up.

“Cameral macchiatos are literally my babies.” You say throwing your head back

“Ugh they’re so good I made our dad buy me whole coffee set up. Expreso machine, the syrups everything.” Sarah agrees

“Ive noticed, I love making rafe make me one. It's like playing barista”

“You force me.” Rafe hits you with the menu

You both giggle at the annoyance of Rafe. So far so good.

“So what are you thinking of getting?” You ask Sarah.

“Hmm maybe like the sunny platter, how about you?”

“Chicken and waffles, they have the best waffles here I swear, there so fluffy.” You smile at her.

Ice starting to melt.

“I think I’m gonna get a salad.” Rafe joked putting the teacher's finger in front of his lips.

You guys all giggle as the waitress comes and drops off your drinks.

“Are you guys ready to order?”

you guys order tator-tots for appetizers and you out in your orders. You guys have been chating away, you and Sarah not had one bad interaction so far.

“Wait so Rafe accidentally knocked on your parent's window thinking it was yours?” Sarah asked completely losing it.

“Yes and it was like 2 am too, he was waiting and my dad went outside and chased him with a bat” you guys are in a laughing fit while Rafe is sitting arms crossed.

“Glad you guys find my trama funny. It was terrifying it was pitch black and all I can hear is his screaming” he said rolling his eyes.

“don’t try sneak out at 2am maybe?” Sarah commented.

“He was wearing all back too, he genuinely looked like he was gonna cause a home invasion!”

The waitress soon brought your plates.

“Here’s the chicken and waffles, sunny platter, and sunny side. Enjoy your meal!”

You all began to dig in, sharing small comments about the food being absolutely amazing.

“Why can’t there be food like this on the banks” you say practically moaning.

“Honestly I would pay for a sunny kitchen franchise” Rafe agreed

“we need to do this more” Sarah smiled at you.

We now have a watered down caramel macchiato. Wooh!!

Soon you guys are walking around town, window shopping, photo ops, small talk.

You and Sarah and hitting it off, you guys like the same music, clothes, coffee order.

Rafe is glad your guys are getting along and you were too.

“I wanna find a cute sundress, my mom’s forces me to go to church with my grandma and I want to at least look cute before she stuffs me into floral hell.” You say walking into a boutique.

“Get whatever you want, all on me.”’Rafe says planting a kiss on your head.

“I’ll seat here, you girls go crazy.” He says sitting on the small couch.

“Since you’re getting a dress I guess have to get a dress. I don’t wanna be the weirdo who doesn’t get a dress you know?” Sarah jokes are you began flipping through racks.

As you go through dress after dress, you feel vibrations coming for your phone. You know it’s the pouges but you refuse to check. You feel bad for ditching them for the Cameron’s and it doesn’t help that you’re dress shopping with Sarah. You were just doing the same with Kie.

“Y/n this would look so good on you!” Sarah said showing you a blue floral bustier sun dress.

“Oh my god that’s so cute!” You say grabbing it.

Soon you guys are both in the dressing room showing your items giving each other a fashion show.

“You think this tops cute” you ask Sarah looking in the mirror.

“Yeah it’s cute and casual, you can wear it anywhere.” She answered.

“What about this skirt?” Sarah asks adjusting the length.

“If you dont get it I will.” You comment.

“Are you girls done it’s been like almost 2 hours?” Rafe yells from the dressing room entrance.

“Rafe if you want us counting your girlfriend, to look cute, you should shut up.” Sarah tells him earning giggles from you.

“We should hurry up though it’s getting late and I don’t wanna miss the ferry like last time. It was hard making up an excuse to the pouges.” You say changing back into your regular clothes waiting for Sarah to finish up.

“I don’t understand how you can be friend with them” Sarah tells you leaving the dressing room.

“That’s what Rafe says too. Were like sardines, always together.” You smile to yourself.

“What do they think about you and Rafe?” She asks.

“Uh they don’t actually know.” You say putting your things on the counter.

Soon Rafe takes a notice goes up to the counter to begin to pay. You and Sarah sit on the couch counting your conversation.

“Why haven't you told them?” she asked.

“Because I know they’ll freak. They don’t exactly like the your family let alone any kook. Jj and Rafe were at each other throats all the time and I know you and Kiara have your history.” A flat smile forms on your lips.

“Honestly why do you care what they think? If you’re happy they should accept that”

“I know but we’ve been with each other since diapers, knowing they could throw our entire friendship away just because of a boy doesn’t make it any easier,” you say looking at Rafe.

“Honestly y/n I’ve seen the way you and Rafe have an effect on each other, that’s actual love. I know we’ve just met not even 4 hours ago but you're respectful, caring, and kind, like one of the most genuine persons I’ve known. If the pouges throw you to the side of the road just because of my bother they don’t seem like the perfect people you paint them to be.” She says

“And with Kiara, what happened is she called the cops on my party after I didn’t invite her. I know it was wrong of me but she didn’t have the right to ruin my birthday. I think she was and is a very shellfish person, and if you think that’s the way they would treat you just because you’re in love that makes them all shellfish.” Sarah says with kind eyes.

“If I can be honest with you Sarah, I think you’re right. I’m just scared to admit it. I know it’s wrong for me to say it but sometimes I can’t help but to think if I were to grow up on the other side how different I would be. Me and Pope are the only ones who actually think about our future while the rest think about the moment. They wanna do fun spontaneous things but I want to at least have a safety plan.”

Is what you would’ve said to her. But all that came out of your mouth was

“you don’t know them like I do”

Soon Rafe comes up drowning in shopping bags.

“A little help wouldn’t hurt,” he says trying to balance 10 bags.

You all are sitting in the ferry, you and Rafe are sitting together while Sarah on a different side. Rafe is scrolling on his phone while you’re looking into the harbor.

You get up to find Sarah, you couldn’t let the day end without having one last conversation.

“Hey Sarah” you greet as she looks up from her phone.

“Hey y/n” she smiles

“I just want to say it was spending the day with you. You’re really cool and like the best and worst person to shop with” you both giggle “and I wanna thank you for listening to me, I gunesilly like the advice you gave me. I can admit I’m scared of confronting them and we both have a good idea of what would happen if I do, but I just can’t help but feel torn between these two worlds.” You confess.

“Do you love Rafe?” She asks

“I’m mean we’ve been seeing eachother for like almost 5 months, it’s too soon-”

“Do you love Rafe?” She asks one more time.

“Yes” you sigh “But please don’t say anything-”

“Im not going too. But if you love him you should be with him. It’s not them who are kissing Rafe it’s you.”

“Yeah you’re right. They should be happy for me, I’m always there when jj survives night surfing or when Kiara ‘got her revenge’.” you and Sarah smile

“But if all goes wrong you got Rafe and me. i can agree today has been a wonderful day and if there is more of this in the future.”

“Enough with me, I've heard you have a little thing with Topper huh? Spill!” you asked Sarah who had faint blush on her cheeks.

“Well i guess you can say we're official, Topper’s sweet and kind. He's not like the others who always want more.” she said playing with her fingers.

“Aww you're blushing!”

“Whatever, but sometimes he just feels like, i dont know. Clingy?”

“Oh tell me about it, the first month with Rafe he wouldn't keep his hands off of me, always spamming me with stupid memes” you began blushing.

“But once time passed we got more comfortable, our friendship grew. he was and is my best friend now. Sometimes we fight like friends too but at the end of the day we still have each other”

“I want what you and Rafe have, i hate to admit it but I'm jealous of him. Never repeat those words to anyone.” she pointed her finger at You “You guys are like perfect!” she groaned

“I wouldn't say perfect but maybe with time you and Topper will be your perfect.”

“Yeah but, i dont know. Like he's great and all but-” she made a face no boy would understand but only a girl would.

“You just don't want it with him.” you finish for her.

“Oh god, am I a bad person?” she says laying her head on the ship wall.

“No no, you just know what you want. If you lead him on that's a mess you don't wanna clean up.”

You looked at Sarah and she had a very unfaithful look.

“But you never know, maybe one day you'll feel something that makes sense you know? Like he's the one.”

“With topper?”

“With anyone. I knew it with your brother when he randomly picked me up and surprised me with the perfect date. He got my favorite flowers, went to my favorite dinner, he for everything write and I didn't tell him a thing.”

“So he just knew”

“Yeah, he knew” just as you finished, you turned too see Rafe walking up to you guys.

“There's my girl,” he says placing a kiss on your forehead and handing you a Cherry Coke he got from a vending machine.

“Ugh that is what I mean!” Sarah complains

“Just give it time, you don't have to worry about love right now you're just 16. ‘Got your whole life ahead of you. It can be now, next year, hell even next week.” you sat giving her a hopeful smile.

“What is she whining about now?” Rafe jerks his head towards his sister.

“Boy stuff” Rafe fakes gagged.

You and Sarah shared a small side hug.

You guys sat together the whole ride back

Never in your life, did you expect to be this close to the Camerons.

Sarah was refreshing, she wasn't silently judging, she understood your jokes, she cared about what you had to say, didn't laugh or call you a pussy for showing your emotions. You both were excited for back to school season (for the shopping only though) and even planned study dates. all the guilt washed away.

Sarah was now one of your closest friends, spilling deep secrets, cracking jokes, endless selfies.

Now you guys are in Rafe's truck, he's driving you home with the gifts he got you and your mom (obviously she loves him)

You get out of the truck, Rafe following behind grabbing your bags. Before you shut your door Sarah says goodbye.

“Remember sleepover next weekend alright? Don't let Rafe take you away.” she smiles as you say your goodbyes and shit the door.

Rafe puts the bags in your room also saying his goodbyes and hello to your parents.

You slide into your duvet covers, scrolling through your massages and finally replying to your friends after such a good day, even meeting your new best friend.

Who knows? Maybe next week you and Sarah will be buying matching jewelry. Let's just hope the pouges dont get suspicious.

─── ʚɞ ⋅ ᯓᡣ𐭩 ⋅ ୨୧ ──

Part three :))

Thanks for the love on this story <33

excuse any typos

#ᯓ★ madebyrolo #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe cameron x female reader #soft rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

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