#listen. it's been a really fucking hard day to be a teacher

[drarrily-we-row-along]

cw: mentions (off screen) child neglect/abuse

"Don't," Harry said without looking up, words coming out muffled against the sleeve of his jumper. He shouldn't have been surprised that Draco found him here, sitting at the end of the pier, knees against his chest as he stared out over the lake.

Draco sat down next to him, heat radiating from his body, "I haven't even said anything yet," he said, feet dangling over the edge.

He shook his head, he could feel Draco's eyes on him but would be damned if he looked over at him. Every thought, every feeling would be written on his face. It hadn't always been that way but at some point Harry's body had decided he was safe with the other man and refused to mask his emotions anymore. "I don't want it."

"Don't want what?" Draco asked and Harry knew that he was just trying to get him to say the words.

The temptation to look over just to glare at him in response was strong. He didn't want his kindness, his gentleness, didn't want his words telling Harry that he was good, that he was enough. Those were the words Draco always gave him when things like this happened and Harry burned with hatred for them. For himself. "Don't," he managed, voice low and wounded, dangerous.

For a moment Draco didn't say anything, didn't do anything apart from looking at Harry like he thought that staring at him would make Harry look back. The silence couldn't last, unfortunately, "It's not your fault," he said, looking out over the lake. "And self-flagellating doesn't actually fix anything."

He looked over at Draco, "Sitting here is not about fixing things," he replied, voice scathing. "A child is actively living through trauma, Draco," he said because maybe that reminder would awaken something in him, would make him feel the same burning, agonizing resentment that was consuming Harry.

"I know," Draco said calmly.

"And they're going to send her back to them!" he roared, chest heaving. "She is living in a home where the adults demonstrate with their words and their actions that she doesn't matter." He shook his head, "She's eleven and she said that she was glad that she was here so that she didn't have to be such a burden on her family. How it would probably be easier for them and they'd be happier if she just didn't exist. What the fuck?!" he shouted, beyond frustrated, beyond any hope that there was anything he could do to make this world any less fucked up.

Draco rested a hand on his shoulder but Harry shrugged him off.

"Don't fucking touch me," he spit.

Draco said nothing and Harry recoiled from himself, he didn't want to hurt the other man, didn't want to slice him open the way that Harry was feeling torn to shreds.

"I can't. I told you not to push," Harry said, "I fucking told you to leave me alone."

"Harry," Draco said softly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"You should be!" He stood and paced away from the other man, still not looking at him, he couldn't bear to. He already knew what Draco's face would be doing, knew the soft set of his mouth, the wrinkle between his eyebrows, the way his eyes would say all of the words that Harry couldn't bear to hear. "I'm not in a good place right now."

"I know that," Draco replied steadily, "I'm not going anywhere."

"And when I just keep shouting at you? Pushing you away? What then?"

He hummed, "You're not actually mad at me. You're mad, and rightfully so," he said emphatically, "I'm mad, too. Your anger is right, and just, and good," he said. "And I am more than happy to bear witness to it. I want to bear witness to you, to your anger and your grief, to your guilt and shame. I want to see you."

"I don't want you to," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want you to see me. I want to be kind to you, good to you," he said. "I want to treat you with gentleness and care, and I can't do that when I feel like this."

Draco looked over his shoulder at where Harry was standing and their eyes met. It shot straight through Harry and all of the emotions that he'd been holding back, trying to rationalize, trying to tamp down, came rushing to the surface.

"I don't want to," he said, shaking his head, eyes stinging with grief, rage hot in his chest, both things making it nearly impossible to draw a deep enough breath. "I don't want you to see it."

"I know," Draco murmured. "Thanks for letting me anyway."

He shook his head, "It's not fair," he murmured, defeated.

"No, it's not," Draco agreed. "None of this is fair."

"You didn't see her face," he whispered. "You didn't see her eyes or hear the way that she talked," he scrubbed his hands over his face. "My whole fucking heart just-" he gasped out, trying to articulate the way his entire heart had shattered into a thousand piece that he didn't think he'd ever be able to put back together, but not even able to complete his sentence.

"Thank you," Draco said.

"For what?" he asked incredulously, because nothing he'd done had done any good. Talking to Minerva, talking to the child protective services in the muggle community she was from, none of it mattered. There weren't any visible marks of abuse, they weren't going to do anything.

Draco gave him a sad little smile and it twisted the knife even deeper into Harry's heart. "For coming to work today," he said softly. "For seeing our students, and loving our students, and being a safe space for them-"

"It doesn't matter!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see?" he asked. "Fuck. There's nothing I can do. Nothing is going to change for her-"

"Everything has changed for her-"

"How?" he exploded. "She's still going to have to go back there when school ends in four weeks. She's going to spend the summer pretending that she doesn't exist, wishing that she didn't exist."

He stood up and took Harry's face in his hands so that Harry made eye contact. "Having someone listen, having someone see you, it changes everything. You're right, the system is fucked up, everything about this is awful. But what you did for her, it matters. You listening matters."

"It's not enough," he said, closing his eyes as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "It's not."

"It's not," Draco agreed and that last bit standing in Harry's heart shattered, the last vestige of hope completely snuffed out. "But you are."

He huffed a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"You, being you is enough. It's not going to fix everything," he agreed. "It isn't. But it doesn't mean that you aren't enough."

"I don't feel like enough," he whispered, the words like knives as they left his throat. "I just feel like I fail them over, and over, and over again."

"You're not."

"I feel like I've got nothing to give them," he confessed, "like what's the point of teaching them defense against the dark arts when it's not monsters and evil wizards that they're fighting? It's the adults who treat them like they're nothing, it their own fucking learned behaviors, and trauma, and thought patterns that they're going to fight the rest of their lives. What's the point?"

Draco was quiet for a heartbeat and Harry opened his eyes to look at him. "You don't treat them like they're nothing."

"Of course I don't," he replied, so offended by the mere suggestion that he could ever-

"It's enough. You are enough," he repeated. "They need you to be you," he said softly, "that's it. They just need you to see them and hear them. It's enough."

"It doesn't feel like it," he said, more tears spilling out without his consent.

He nodded wrapping his arms lightly around Harry's waist, giving him the freedom to pull away if he wanted to. "I know," he said softly.

And Harry collapsed against him, body resting heavily against Draco's. "I can't do it," he whispered, all gaping, aching weakness.

"You're not alone," Draco said softly, kissing his temple. "You don't have to do it alone."

"Promise?"

Draco nodded, "I promise love. I'm not going anywhere."

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

Read more of my fics

#drarry #love #soft #tenderness #professor harry #professor draco #hogwarts professors #mentions off screen child neglect #trauma dump #the fucking cps sucks ass and i'm having a lot of feelings #listen. it's been a really fucking hard day to be a teacher #this one feels a little too real- might delete this later #i am going to therapy. i am okay. #part of the unofficial trauma series

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა #my head would be in my hands #if they weren't already occupied #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #choso jujutsu kaisen #choso #kamo choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso smut #choso x you #choso my beloved #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #jjk ^ ~ #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk x poc!reader #choso kamo x reader

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying

part 2

gn reader

Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 

It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.

All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 

“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.

“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.

“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”

All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?

Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 

You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.

You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.

But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.

To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.

If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-

He shuddered.

It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?

He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?

No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.

How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-

Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…

You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.

His face was in his normal scowl.

He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-

“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”

Your brows furrow.

“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”

He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.

“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”

When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.

It smells like Kachan.

part 2

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou smut #bakugou smut #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki

[cherryredstars]

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you. 

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  

“Miguel!” 

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #cherry's requests🍒

[octuscle]

From tutor to rookie of the year

Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.

The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.

After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.

These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.

Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.

I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.

Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.

"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.

If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #jock tf #nerd to jock #football jock #ai image

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

POPULAR DEREK SIMPING FOR NERD STILESSS (please <333)

Sure thing!

Come Along Because I Love Your Face by cardel

(1/1 I 1,035 I General)

Derek doesn’t mean to stare, he knows it’s rude but he can’t seem to help it. The guy has been talking to his circle of friends for the better part of the lunch period and they’re all listening, riveted, just like Derek.

Hot Nerd Alert by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 4,537 I Not Rated)

Derek can't believe he's actually doing this: taking a selfie snap of the guy he’s been crushing on for weeks to prove to Danny that one, yes, he really does exist, and two, he really is that hot and thus he is totally justified in being too scared to make a move.

Or you know, even talk to the guy outside of the class they share.

In his defense, this isn’t just any guy. This THE guy. Hot Nerd. The utterly adorable but still somehow insanely sexy freshman in his twentieth century American Lit class who he’s been lusting over since the first day of the semester. If there were ever a time for him to be that person who tries to be subtle while taking snaps of other people, this is it.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Playing Hard To Get by stereksterek

(3/3 I 6,911 I Not Rated)

“Is that your best pick-up line?”

Derek was taken aback by the blatant call-out from his clearly intelligent mate, but if anything it just made him grin.

“I can do better.”

“Then why would you start with something that wasn’t your best? Maybe you’re not really that interested in me and could go and reflect on that somewhere else?”

Before Derek could refute his mate’s doubt with all the ferocity of his wolf, Stiles turned back to the bookshelf and continued searching for the book he'd been looking for. Apparently his mate wanted to play hard to get, but that was fine with Derek. He didn’t mind a challenge.

“Trust me. No one could be more interested in you than me.”

living in a movie i've watched by thoughtsandthings

(13/13 I 20,995 I Teen)

Stiles scrambles to his feet and holds his hand over his heart like he’s about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “I solemnly swear I will try my damnedest to woo the crap out of Derek Hale.”

Scott laughs and tosses a couch pillow at his head. “Deal."

Stiles and Scott shake on it.

But Then What... by Stoney

(3/3 I 24,343 I Explicit)

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #high school au #nerd!stiles #jock!derek #anon

[neonovember]

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 

*

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

*

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 

You had to see your golden boy.

#neonovember #neo writes #requests #request open #series #short series #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy berzatti #carmy berzatto fix #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x fluff #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x angst #carmy x reader #carmy x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto masterlist #the bear #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #only 5 days left #i got carried away a little #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto x highschool!friend

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 10

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, mention of suicide,

Part 1

"Did Neil Prescott attack you with the ghostface costume on?"

"They've yet to close the case on the murders. Do you think Neil could've had a partner?"

"Was is hard watching your girlfriend die in front of you?"

The reporters spit inappropriate questions at Billy from the moment he stepped out of his car. He was more than happy that he got away with it but he found it a little annoying someone else was getting all the credit for his well executed plan. Billy threw his his backpack on barley missing the healing wound underneath his polo.

He passed by the reporters pushing some of them out of the way. Surprisingly no one bombarded him with questions when he entered first period. He heard whispers as he walked the halls. They didn't bother him at first. Billy lived through it, he got the front row seat most of them would kill to have. The boy kept his head down as he walked into his first period class. "It was Stu's house I know he had something to do with it." One of the boys said talking with his friends. Billy listened into the conversation. He was a nosey person by nature. "That doesn't mean he did it. I mean Sydney's dad was a wack job after his wife slept with half the town."

Billy nodded to himself. "I don't know something seems fishy with how close Stu and that new chick were." If you were close with anyone it was Billy. He was just careful about showing affection in public because shit like this happenes. People talk. "They were probably fucking and Tatum found out, everything went side ways." The group of three started laughing as the teacher shut the classroom door. Billy wasn't keen on hearing people talk about you or Stu but Stu had thick skin. Words never really bothered him much.

"You know we all would've died if Y/n didn't call the cops when she did." Billy snapped his tone a little too assertive. The class grew quiet everyone hearing what the boy had to say. Even the teacher was quiet not wanting to upset Billy more than he already was. "Class I know that these last few weeks have been traumatic for some more than others. However it would be beneficial to everyone if we continued on with our unit."

Billy went through the day with his keeping his eyes on the ground. He started to realize how hard it was to get through the day without Stu by his side going on and on about something he really didn't care about. The lunch bell rang and like clockwork all the kids flooded the hallway. For the most part Billy was completely ignored except for a few wide eyes stares in the hallway. For a second he forgot about what he had done. He saw the fountain being occupied by two girls. The freshman girls looked at Billy like he was a celebrity. "Oh my god Billy Loomis. I didn't think you'd come back so soon. Are you okay?" The blonde student rambled on stumbling over her words.

"Move." He was a man of few words. "I'm sorry about Syd- wait what?" She asked as her friend started picking her things up. "Are you deaf or something? Get out of my fucking spot." The girls hurried to grab their things. "This is where we sit everyday are you fucking blind?" He yelled causing people around to stare at the scene. "I-I'm s-sorry..." The kid stuttered scared of the boy in front of her. "Duh- duh- duh- get the fuck out of here." Billy spat nearly making the girl cry. Silently her friend grabbed her hand pulling her towards the building.

He could feel the eyes of those around him tearing into his slim frame. Billy sat on the concrete slab where he always did. No Sydney, no Tatum, no Randy, no Stu, and no you. His peers just watched the boy have a mental breakdown. It was lonely being alive. It wasn't the lack of people that was upsetting, it was the quiet. Running a hand through his messy hair he jumped up. "Fuck this."

You had never felt so good on a Monday. Your wound barley hurt with a little help from the pain killers. "Elvis really?" Stu questioned as you pulled the record out of it's sleeve. "You're not an American if you don't like Elvis." He pulled his lips into a straight line. "Consider me Canadian." Your rolled your eyes sitting the needle down. "Did you know he came in his pants during one performance?" Stu crinkled his nose at the unwante information. "That is fucking disgusting. Tell me more." You laughed laying on your bed next to him.

Billy blasted his radio choosing to listen to the burnt CD Stu made him a few weeks ago. Sad whiney alternative rock seeped through the speakers. It did nothing to help his mood but he wanted to sit and wallow in his self pity for just a little longer. It wasn't a very long drive to your house which saved him gas. If he had to guess you were probably laid up in pain waiting for someone to come and help you. And if you weren't going to answer his calls he'd do the chivalrous thing by showing up unannounced.

You held your sides as Stu danced around doing his best Elvis impression. "Stop it's so bad." You cried with laughter barley able to get the words out. You heard a faint noise downstairs grabbing your attention. "Wait, shh do you hear that?" Stu pipped down letting you concentrate. "Somebody's at the door." You rolled off the bed heading down the steps. "I'm going to pick the next record." Stu called from the bedroom. Making sure you looked presentable you opened the door. Billy looked up at you a smile playing at his lips for the first time in what felt like forever. "Hey." He said as you stared in shock. Your heart raced and you felt sick.

"Jeez don't get too excited." The visitor rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease his slowly building nerves. It was obvious to him you weren't as happy about seeing him as he was you. To him you were a breath of fresh air but that was because he was stealing yours. "Y/n please talk to me." He pleaded making you snap out of the trance you were in. "Go away." You thought it'd come out as a scream but it barley qualified as a whisper. Billy caught the door as it was closing. "You can't just tell me you're in love with me and then disappear." He walked into the house as if he owned it. You couldn't help but laugh dryly.

"That's what you got out of everything thing that happened Monday?" He raised an eyebrow unsure of what he was missing. "What else was I supposed to get? You literally pointed at gun at me saying you did all this for me because you loved me." You slammed your front door causing Stu to jump upstairs. "I was going to kill you." You said plainly done with the chit chat. "Excuse me?" You walked to the kitchen grabbing a drink from the fridge. "You heard me. When I saw that article and saw your smug face all I could see was red." Billy took a seat on your couch deciding to take his shoes off as if he was staying longer.

"I did love you, you're right but that was years ago. For a second there you had me fooled I'll give you that. My original plan was to get close to you and then kill you. Simple as that. Stu made that hard considering you were two attached at the hip." You refrained from making a joke you knew the boy upstairs would appreciate. "Why didn't you just kill him too?" With the look you gave him he knew that wasn't a good question. You took a swig of soda setting the glass bottle down on the counter. "It might be a shocker for a heartless bastard like you but I don't just run around killing people that inconvenience me."

Billy was actually kind of hurt by the comment. "I found out you two were planning to murder a group of kids so I sat and waited for you two to get yourselves put in prison or better yet you'd kill yourself." Billy swallowed what little spit he had left in his mouth. He was uncomfortable. "I'm not stupid, I knew you were going to kill him. He was simply collateral to you. That's what really pissed me off. You hadn't changed at all. I couldn't kill you now because he loved you and I couldn't bring myself to hurt him. Does he know?"

Stu sat upstairs knees to his chest as he tried not to cry. He was dumb he knew that but he was okay with it. He didn't think he was think oblivious though. All he was to Billy was a disposable accomplice. Something he could throw away once he was done using him.

"I wasn't going to kill him. We were going to run away together." You laughed shaking your head in disbelief. "Watch out Loomis, you're starting to sound as delusional as me." The whole scene really played out like two parents in the midst of a divorce. "Why'd you come here?" The defeated sound in your voice made Billy regret his decision in coming here. "I wanted to see you." He muttered. "Well you've seen me." You held out your hands making sure he could get a good luck before he left.

"I love you." Billy looked up at you making sure your eyes met when you heard the words. You hated the way he could easily manipulate you. Maybe it was because you wanted him to. You enjoyed how the lies made you feel so you chose to believe them. "If you think that's what I want to hear it's not. Love bombing is a big red flag you know?" Billy slammed his fist on the couch arm in frustration. "What the hell do you want to hear then?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I can't explain every little thing to you Billy. It's not my responsibility to teach you how to be a decent human being. I just need time. We both do. If you still feel the same way next week we can talk okay?"

Billy bit his lip till it started to bleed. "Okay." He was yet again defeated by you. You weren't keeping score but he certainly was. "If I call will you at least answer? Please." The idea wasn't bad but you knew it was only a matter of time till this sense of clarity wore off. You'd take him back in a heartbeat because you're the same easily impressed girl you've always been.

"I'll think about it." You'd kiss him right now if he as much implied the idea. One whimper from him and you've would've started making the bastard a sandwich. "Thank you." He said as he put he shoes back on. "How are you?" It was a question you thought he didn't care enough to ask. "I'm feeling better. Thank you for asking. How are you doing?" Billy's wound didn't even bother him at this point it was his mental state that was in decline. "I miss you and Stu." That wasn't an answer to your question but you proceeded with caution.

"I'll be back to school next week. Why don't you stay home this week too? School is not exactly the best idea for us right now." All things considered that is. You didn't understand how much Billy despised his "home." Since his mother left him his house became a prison. A padded cell would be cozier. "I would rather go to school all day than go home." You felt for him but that's as far as your sympathy went. Slowly he stood up waiting for anything to keep him here a bit longer.

"I'll see you Monday, Billy." You walked over to him ready to open up the front door. Swallowing his pride he wrapped his arms around you burying his face in your neck. The strangely intimate act was not in Billy's character. "I'm sorry." He whispered to himself more than you. You weren't even sure if he knew he said it. Your arms wrapped around his back and he let you just hold him for a second. If this was some sort of manipulation tactic he was better than you thought. Billy cleared his throat as he pulled away.

"I guess I'll see you Monday." You nodded not trusting your voice. "Call me if you need anything." Billy added as he walked outside heading towards his car. "Bye." Your voice cracked and you quickly shut the door locking it. Instead of sliding down the door like they do in the movies you laid face down on the couch. Screaming you lungs out into the throw pillow seemed to attract the attention of the boy upstairs. "You okay Betty Crocker?" Stu said almost jumping down the stairs. "You want to go cliff diving?" You asked as you carefully rolled off into the floor.

Stu joined you on the carpet. "Can we drive off the cliff Thelma and Louise style?" You smiled cuddling up into his side. "Absolutely." You wanted to ask if he heard your discussion but with how red his face was you assumed he already knew. "Is Y/n your real name?" There was a calming sincerity to his voice. "I wouldn't lie about that. Well actually that's a lie, yes I would." He laughed covering his eyes with his arm. "But no I'm not lying about that. I've got my birth certificate somewhere around here or I could just give you my social security number." You smiled up at him. "That works too."

Stu played records as you and him cleaned the kitchen. He felt betrayed by his best friend and he desperately needed the break. Stu would forgive Billy eventually, he always did. He knew you'd forgive him too if you hadn't already. That's just what Billy did. Ignorance is bliss, Stu learned that a long time ago. In the meantime, Stu was busy playing house with you.

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 11

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum

#billy loomis #housewife #scream #ghostface #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #scream fanfic #scream 1996 masterlist #stu macher fluff #stu ghostface #stu macher x reader #stu macher #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #poly relationship #ghostface x female reader #ghostface x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream fanfiction

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Just For Research

Pairing: Professor! Rick Sanchez x College Student! GN! Reader.

Summary: When Rick discovers his top student is a virgin, he knows he must change that so she can write her paper on human pheromones.

Warnings: Smut, Intercourse (P in ?), Virginity Loss, Teacher x Student relationship, Age Gap, Virgin! Reader.

Writing Time: 30 minutes.

Word Count: 652.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 7.

A/N:

Woke up in the middle of the night and decided to just write this. Sorry for any mistakes, this is not proofread. I'm just really trying to make sure everything is written before October arrives so the quality is some fics might be lacking a little, this might be one of them. This is probably my shortest fic so far. Oh well.I also have completely forgotten what it was like in college. I did about 3 months of Combined Science in the UK before I dropped out for an apprenticeship instead and I don't remember anything about those 3 months. So this could be all completely wrong but tbh I really don't care.I tried really hard to keep it GN, which is getting harder and harder for me due to the lack of gender neutral terms in the English language but I'll keep managing.Hope you enjoy, I've been eager to write something for Rick for ages now.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober works.

---///---

Thoughts were swarming your head, making it almost impossible to think about what was currently happening.

'How did this happen?' You thought, 'This couldn't of been an accident, but how then did it happen?'

You let out a torn scream, but Rick was fast to cover your mouth and silence it.

"Shut up little Whore, or the whole building will hear you." He huffed.

Just a second ago you and Rick was discussing your college assignment. Your assignment was to write an essay about the human and animal pheromones that tell them to breed and compare the two. Something fairly basic for a Combined Science class and as the class's top student, Rick expected this assignment to be a breeze for you.

But he had been wrong. For a top student with a bright future in Science, you had no idea about pheromones. Especially the sexual kind. It was the one thing you hadn't studied yourself in your own time nor had you experienced it.

You had come to Rick after class to hopefully explain the subject better for you or give you good resources to look up but once Rick found out you was a virgin, what you got instead was a private lessons on pheromones that included an experimental or practical that would give you the experience.

So now you were bent over his desk taking all of him like the good little one you was.

"Please..." You whimpered, tired and stretched out to the max. It had only been a few minutes but this was completely new to a virgin.

"Please what, Whore?" Rick glared down at you, still thrusting in and out of you at an ungodly pace.

Rick didn't think this was exactly the best way to show someone who had never experienced sexual feelings what they were like, but to be honest, he didn't care. He was just looking for a reason to fuck you. His prettiest most innocent and intelligent little Princess/Prince who always sat in the front row, listening to him with wide ears.

But this had been a good lesson for you. Your sexual desire and need for Professor Sanchez now more than alive, it was insatiable.

"Please more Sir!" You cried.

Rick was a little shocked, but more than happy to oblige. And quickly increased his speed, you looked down and moaned into the once clean desk.

"Yeah? You like this cock? You want more of it, my little cocksleeve?" Rick groaned into your ears.

"Yes!" You nodded eagerly.

Obviously, you came first. You did so with a scream and giant smile. Rick came not too long after you onto your back, with just a few loud grunt.

You was pretty confident now you was gonna Ace this assignment.

#stitched #stitched mouth #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez smut #stitched writes

[archangeldyke-all]

can we get dealer!Sevika & hyper-feminine reader plssss 👁️👁️

reader has long ass nails so she sucks at rolling but thankfully since Sevika has a liking to her, she sells reader pre-rolls with a huge discount, and says it’s just a special deal for her only. & maybe one day she invites reader to smoke with her in her car and they just act all cute and high 😭

hhhghhhg... yeah. i'm a sucker for sevika. i'm a sucker for weed. let's fucking goooo

check out the nail inspo for the nails in this fic hehehe

men and minors dni

be outside in 5. the text on your phone reads. you grin, then look back up in the mirror, putting a fresh coat of lipgloss on and fixing your hair.

you suppose you could just buy in bulk. it would save sevika the two or three trips to your house a week. but she doesn't complain, and you've got a pretty good guess as to why.

a horn honks outside your home. you giggle, give your outfit one more look over in the mirror, spray a bit more perfume on, and run out of your house.

sevika's windows are tinted so dark it has to be illegal, and the presence of her car makes the whole block smell like weed. she rolls her window down as you come out of the house, turning down the music she was listening to, to grin and wolf whistle at you.

you giggle, spinning in a little circle in front of the driver's door, giving her a good view of your outfit. she chuckles. "c'mon, get in." she says, nodding to the passenger's side. you quickly run around her car and let yourself in, pressing a quick kiss to sevika's cheek as she pulls off.

she groans, scrubbing where your lipstick has stained her cheek-- a bright, glittery pink print left behind, now being smeared by her hand. she's driving the two of you to the abandonded lot you guys always sit in-- what used to be a strip mall is now cracked pavement and giant, overgrown trees. it's the perfect place to park, in the shade, and remain unbothered all day as you smoke and chat.

sevika's been your dealer since you met her at a party last year. your old dealer, a grimy old man, was... fine. he grew the weed himself and gave you real good prices... but he was also your history teacher in the sixth grade.

you gave up on him when you met sevika, gorgeous, charming, sevika. sevika who had woman sitting all around her at the house party you'd met in, but whose eyes only caught on yours. sevika who'd snatched her blunt that had been being passed around out of the nearest girls hands, and into hers as she rose from her seat and approached you.

sevika who you've been in love with ever since.

you guys have been spending a few evenings or afternoons a week together. sometimes here, in your spot, sometimes in a park, sometimes at sevika's place. sometimes she'll take you along to her deals, driving you to houses all around the city as you help her weigh bud and count cash.

it's fun. a lot of sevika's customers are old friends of yours, people you thought you'd never see again. you get to catch up and chat with them for a bit-- then spend the rest of your night gossiping about them with sevika once they leave.

she's your best friend.

you're just trying to make her make you her girlfriend.

you know she wants you. she doesn't even let you pay for weed anymore. and when she's high, her eyes all pink and her lips curled in a goofy little smile, her gaze wanders. and it catches on your lips, most frequently, but also your tits, your thighs, your stomach-- really, anything she can see.

but she doesn't act on it. because she's a gentleman.

and you don't act on it because... well... sevika's attractive. and she makes good money, and you know that you and sevika don't hang out on weekends because she goes to parties to sell on weekends.

and you wouldn't be surprised if you aren't the only girl riding in her passenger seat.

it's hard to know.

people leave shit in sevika's car all the time when she's doing house calls. they'll sit, chat for a bit, and leave behind their water bottles or hair ties or cigarette butts or press on nails when they get out.

and besides, if you confront sevika, who'll roll your joints for you? certainly not you. not with your nails.

speaking of...

"show me your nails." sevika demands as she pulls into your little spot, under a big willow tree. it's like your own little world here, under a green dome of leaves. sevika rolls all her windows down, and you wiggle your fingers over the middle console.

you told her you were getting a new set last time you smoked together. you asked for color recommendations-- she suggested purple, her favorite color.

so, of course, you got purple.

"fuck, they look sharp." sevika smiles, poking the pointed tip of your nails. you laugh.

"i forgot i got 'em so sharp 'n almost took my eye out this morning putting my lashes on." you admit. sevika giggles, still holding your fingertips in her hands and examining the way they shine in the light.

"so shiny. fuckin' pretty, baby."

you're pretty damn sure you're the only one she calls baby but... you happen to know that back in the day when sevika was scamming rich idiots by selling them baby powder and grass in exchange for hundreds of dollars, she had a lot of women riding along in the passenger seat of her car. and getting fucked in the back seat. which has yet to happen to you.

so you don't know. you just tell yourself you're here for the free weed.

"how's your day been?" you ask, snatching your hands away from sevika. you recline your seat, putting your feet up on the dash as she opens her center console.

"meh. been lookin' forward to this all day." she says. then. "oh! look." she reaches between your seats into her back seat, grabbing a plastic bag and pulling it into the front of the car. "snacks!"

"you're the fuckin' best, sev." you moan as you tear into a bag of chips. she chuckles, and hands you a preroll.

"strawberry flavored wrapping paper, you'll like it." sevika promises. you chew on your chips, take a quick swig of your drink, and then put the joint between the lips. sevika lights the tip for you, her eyes locked on yours.

you tear your eyes away just in time to jerk back before the entire joint goes up in flames, and take a long drag. it's truly delicious, like candy flavored smoke, and you hum, happy. sevika grins.

"good?"

"very." you nod, leaning back against your seat and taking another puff. "oh, i'm sorry." you pout, like you do every time you smoke with her. "i got lipgloss on your joint."

sevika giggles, snatches the joint back, and takes her own puff. "fuck off. i like it. 's like extra flavoring." she shrugs. your stomach twists. she blows smoke out in your face, then takes another puff, her eyes dragging up and down your body.

you guys smoke in silence for a while, passing one joint, then a pack of chips, then another joint, then a bag of candy between one another. and now, the sun's setting and your little world under the willow tree's all golden-greeen, and sevika's rolling another joint.

you sigh, happy, and your eyes trail down sevika's exposed arms-- she's wearing her signature wifepleaser. you speak before you can help yourself. "you look delicious today." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"'s that mean you got the munchies or is that your way of flirtin' with me?" she asks. you giggle, then shrug.

"whaddya think?"

"i think you stole my line." she says around her joint, smirking as she lights and takes the first puff of it. her eyes dart down to your outfit-- intentionally skimpy, showing a little more skin than necessary for this pleasant spring day.

she lets you take a puff. you feel like you've melted into the seat. all your inhibitions are lowered. the words come out before you can stop yourself... again. this is what you get for smoking so much fuckin' weed. "'m i the only person in your life?" you ask.

sevika blinks at you. "what?"

"like... the only person you flirt like that with." you clarify, cringing. sevika's confused smile grows wide.

"has that not been obvious this whole time?" she asks. you gulp.

"uh." you whisper. your heart's beating a mile a minute, and you suddenly sit up from your relaxed posture in her passenger's seat. "i don'--"

"yes. am i the only person you let dictate your nail color?"

"yes." you whisper. sevika grins.

"so..." sevika trails off. you gulp.

"y'know... it's really hard for me to roll my weed with my nails like this." you say. sevika takes a drag off the joint nodding along as you speak. "it'd be nice to have a girlfriend who could help with that." you say. she grins, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth as she leans across the center console to speak, her lips an inch away from yours.

"i coul--"

"okay." you agree, grinning. sevika giggles, then leans forward to kiss you. you stop her with a finger to lips and she pouts. you chuckle, take the joint from her hands, and take a long drag. when you exhale, you speak again. "the nails also make it really hard to keep myself satisfied." you whisper, intentionally shifting in your seat, squeezing your thighs together.

sevika chokes, and she's not the one with the joint. you smile, then pull your finger away from her lips, letting her speak again.

she doesn't. instead. she reaches out, grabs the joint, and flicks it out the window, smirking at you. you bite your lip in anticipation (and trying to hold in your scold about wasting good weed.)

"only if you promise to scratch the shit outta my back with those claws, baby." she whispers, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks. you shiver. "your place or mine?" she asks. you gulp.

"...the backseat? i've kinda been fantasizing about it since the first time we smoked in the car together..."

sevika doesn't answer. she just bursts into laughter, and launches forward to pull you in a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

#this is as much a love letter to sevika as it is one to spring and weed alsjdk;flskj #sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[kombuuuu]

Okay so this song, right?

Now the original version (the one above) is fun so you don’t realize it, but when you listen to the MTV Unplugged version (the one below) you realize that it’s really fucking sad

So, upon doing research, I learned that the song is about asking someone to give them a chance. ‘Take on me, take me on’ is saying, “give me chance, let me try.”

And what did that make me think of? Earth 42! Miles Morales.

Think about it.

Reader likes him, he likes them, but he’s scared of (A) being abandoned, (B) giving them a reason to leave, or (C) hurting them. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, and that makes it hard to be happy.

But reader? They know. They get it. And they know that, with communication and a little bit of faith, it can work. So they’re literally telling him to give it a chance. To let it work.

This is what my silly little brain does sometimes.

he so baby

also wtf why would u bring up this song it’s been years but tlou is still fresh on the mind bro wtf wtf what the hell

Take me on, Please.

42!Miles Morales x GN!Reader

—

Not a day passed when Miles hasn’t thought of you. When he was ‘working’, or in school — or in the late of night, trying so hard to get to sleep, but with the image of you making the back of his eyelids burn. He stayed awake to maybe escape them— And you still couldn’t leave his mind.

His room would get too dark, and when the ceiling would start to form your silhouette, he would give up. And resign to the deeps of his own mind. Resign to you.

He would toss and turn, clutching his bedsheets in bruised knuckles.

He would slide the other hand down his face, would relish in the pain, pull his skin. Pick at his hands, grip his hair. Would lay lax, and think and think and think.

Until he couldn’t — Until, like to his thoughts. He would concede.

And he’d call you — and you’d answer, and he’d sigh — relieved, stressed, scared, loved.

—

He’d try to avoid you, don’t get him wrong — he would.

He would ignore your texts, and skip his classes when he knew you were in them. He’d pick the locks to the schools roof, sit legs crossed on the touch concrete, and watch the students idle below him.

But it’d only last so long.

He’d call you, dead of night. Then wake up to a “gud morning C:” text the morning after, and he’d scroll through everything he’d missed and reply to every one.

He’d get scolded by his Momma for skipping class, and bashfully return to your shared table — you welcoming him back with a smile and a pencil already in your hand, ready for him to ask. Because you knew he never brought one, you knew him.

You’d see him from your spot on the courtyard, chatting with your other friends. The ones he’d envy for being so carefree with you.

And you’d send him a discreet wave, watching him stiffen as you put a finger to your lips in sworn secrecy.

“My lips are sealed

(I wish you’d shut them).”

You were a plague. A torturous, sickeningly sweet plague.

—

You huffed to yourself as you made your way up the last set of stairs, leaning on your knees a little at the top and cursing Miles for being difficult.

You groaned again as you pushed up, grasping the doors handle and opening it with ease.

The boy in question was sat on the edge of the roof, watching students and teachers alike.

“You ‘kay?”

He barely flinched, head titling towards you for a moment in consideration, eyes never meeting yours, but he saw your concern through his peripherals.

“Mm..” He hummed in acknowledgment, a relatively positive — but somewhat unsure sound.

Your brows furrowed slightly, lips curling in on themselves for a moment in silent disagreement.

He didn’t want to speak on it, so you wouldn’t make him.

You walked to his side, and he watched the way the world shifted around you, almost revolved around your movements.

He sighed and turned to face in front of him again — desperate not to meet your eye.

You sat down, your feet sidling off the edge of the roof in swift movements, just like he had. His breath stuttered in worry, and he had an instinct to pull you back. Keep you safe from the dangers he seemed to bring — but that would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it?

But you were fine, and your feet had started kicking. He huffed, scratching away the smile that tried to surface and shoving it back down.

He sniffed, leaning back on one of his hands.

He was so smooth, calculated. Like every movement he made had a lifetime worth of of thought put into it. Maybe it was just confidence, sureness in himself.

Maybe you missed the tremble in his hands, the irritated and blushed skin of his knuckles, creaking with every movement and splitting every night.

The way his skin peeled around the bed of his nails, dry and lifted.

You admired his controlled breathing, and he struggled to steady it — heart rate rising with his efforts.

It’s like you didn’t understand the effect you had on him, oblivious to his nervous nature.

He refocused, and the way the wind hit your face, tracing along the shape of your lips, ruffling your clothes in a soft breeze.

He would envy it — if it didn’t feel stupid.

You gazed at shifting clouds and blue skies, smiling at the hint of the Moon you could still see. And he watched, ever observing in your prose.

“You know —,” He savoured the way your lips moved, how they curled around each word “,—I’d never push you to talk to me, Miles. I’d never be that person.” You glanced at him, and the pulse of electricity that ran through his spine when your eyes met his, it was anything but healthy.

“I know.”

He affirmed your statement, knowing you had never, and would never force him to be open with you. He’d wish you were more demanding.

You hummed and turned back to the sky, eyes shining against sunlight, dancing with something too caring, too intimate for him. He turned to the sky.

“You can talk to me, though.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, shivering at your tone of voice.

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to?”

It was your turn to stutter now, breath catching in your throat and trying to find the right words.

“I—“ You laughed nervously, hands fiddling with the little weeds that had sprouted between seems of concrete. “,I wouldn’t wanna be pushy—“

“[Name].”

You stopped, guiltily humming in acknowledgment. If he didn’t want to—

“Mirame.”

Miles pulled you out of your thoughts, watching the shame well behind your eyes, like the mere thought of being overbearing was something to fear.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you looked at him, and the sight made him swoon.

He tilted his head towards you, braids sliding down his shoulders, encouraging you to go on — and you conceded, a subtle frown gracing your features.

“I do.”

He sighed, relieved — and perturbed.

“I can’t..,” You bit your lip and let him find his footing. “,..I can’t talk to you, I want to,”

His heart was stuck in his throat, constricting it enough to suffocate — he’d wished it would claw the confessions out of him.

I cant.”

Your eyes flickered to his hands beside your own, watching them twitch before you met his gaze again, heavy and heart-felt.

“I know.”

—

You were determined. The previous apprehensions you’d felt and faced being forced away in a moment of clarity.

You needed him to talk to you, needed him to be open. He’d never get himself there alone.

You needed him to know you could take him. You wanted to try. At the very least.

You slipped your hands down the windowsill, dangling off the edge and checking to see if you could drop down.

When the fire escape touched the tips of your toes, you let go, listening to see if you’d been to loud as you slowly lowered onto your heels.

When no movement seemed to be heard without your apartment, you turned to the steps, making your way down as quiet as possible and jumping off the last step. You landed on the pavement with a stumble before you righted yourself.

“Ahh, Shit—,” A stray pedestrian sent you you a weird look and you chuckled nervously, muttering an apology and scattering off to find Miles in the vast of a city’s night.

—

You were nearing the corner of his street, his apartment coming into view as you walked. You watched the plants Momma Rio had set on her windowsill sway in a light breeze, and the light flicker different colours from her TV before your eyes drifted towards Miles’ window.

It was dark in there, but you knew he preferred it like that.

He might’ve been asleep, considering how late it was — but it wasn’t likely.

He might’ve lost his passion for art, but you knew sometimes, when he thought no one was looking — he’d sketch or draw whatever came to mind.

Sometimes glancing at the copic markers his dad had got him, the ones he shoved under his bed, before harshly furrowing his brows and disregarding the thought.

The ringing of a stores bell grabbed your attention, whipping your head to the left. A lone man walked out of what looked to be a convenience store, waving to the store clerk with a smile and a cheerful goodbye before going on his way.

You eyed the store, checking its contents through the ceiling to floor windows and purposefully ignoring the graffiti littering them.

When your eye caught onto a Prowler themed face mask (strawberry scented!), you smirked to yourself and headed in.

—

The Prowler wasn’t something exactly looked down upon by the public, if anything — he was favoured.

People were weary at first, scared even. Of the man going around killing strangers, but true to the way of the general public — when the victims names had been revealed, and a string of murders all lined up and marked with a signature slash to the throat —, people had begun to investigate.

And every immoral thing those ‘Victims’ had ever done was brought to light.

No matter how many times the government tried to quiet those things down, to save face, whatever forum you decided to look just a tad deeper in—…

Safe to say he was admired.

So seeing things branded with The Prowler theme wasn’t very out of the blue.

Which is why, walking out of that store, you now had a bag filled to the brim with Prowler merch (?), to tease said Prowler with.

—

Miles followed along to the song playing in his headphones, bouncing his head to Kendrick’s words and mouthing the lyrics with him.

The sketches he made along thick paper formed the shape of your body, the same silhouette stuck in his mind now stained clean paper in led.

He flicked his pencil up slightly, curling is to the shape of your neck and slip of your shoulder. He leant back, trying to see his work from a new angle and take it — you — in from a full scale.

He admired your features before going to fix a smudge on the right side of the page just as the song came to a close.

Through the fade-out, a small ‘clack’ caught his attention.

He dismissed it, glancing in the direction of his window and playing it off as a stray leaf.

Until it happened again a minute later.

He groaned, pausing the song, which he wasn’t happy about — because IFHY is not something you just ‘pause’ — and ripping his headphones out. Spinning on his chair and launching off towards the window, his chair rolled back at his sudden movement, but he was too caught up eyeing the glass to pay attention as to where it went.

He crept closer with a sneer on his face, and as he passed the shelf, reached back behind a book to grab his gun.

Better safe than sorry, was what his Uncle told him.

He ducked behind the wall next to his window, legs crouched enough to have him able to peek smoothly.

His breath left him at the sight of your creased brows, a furrow in them he couldn’t explain. Your lips parted as you focused on aiming at his window, a moment later — another clack, and he almost snorted as the small rock hit the glass and you bent to pick it up again.

Reaching forward and dragging his body in view of the window, he slammed it open, glaring playfully down at you.

Your head snapped up, caught with a stone in your metaphorically red hands.

You smiled up at him, sheepish and unbelievably sweet.

He crossed his arms, raising his brows with an expecting look on his face, he wasn’t mad — could never be — but he wouldn’t let *you know that.

“Hey—,” You dragged out the ‘y’ with an awkward laugh. “,Morales. Funny ahh—,”

You sniffed and shifted to stand up straight again.

“,Funny seein’ you here.”

His smile grew as he watched you cringe at yourself, rolling his eyes and snarking at you.

“At my house?”

“More an apartment, you know? My personal preference, I’ll say—,”

“[Name].”

He titled his head down at you with a condescending look in his eyes. You laughed again, just as nervous as before, and swung the bag in your hand to occupy them.

“Yeah— Sorry.”

He bent over, leaning his elbows on his windowsill and letting his free hand hang over the edge, hiding the gun behind the wall.

He flashed it at you and you made a sour face, giving him a deadpanned look as he smirked.

“Really?”

“Not my fault you showed up without so much as a text.” His tone dipped lower, teasing your decisions to surprise someone you *knew to be a vigilante.

You pouted, puffing your cheeks up in dismay and crossing your arms, dropping the rock as you went. The bag shifting with your movements caught his attention and he gave it a questioning look before focusing back on you when you spoke.

“And here I thought I could come and surprise my best friend without a glock getting pulled on me.” You dramatically tipped your head up at him, exposing your neck and jawline for him to eye.

“Ooh, yeah — poor you, huh?” He bit his lip and watched you peek at him, fighting off a smile.

“Yes. Poor me. So poor, in fact — that I’m standing out here,” You looked to the left and he followed, both of you going quiet as someone left their apartment.

You awkwardly waved when they gave you a weird look. As soon as they were out of earshot, you lowered your voice to a harsh whisper and whined up at him. His fingers twitched at the expression you wore, watching you with a keen eye.

“,looking like a fucking psycho!”

“More like a schitzo. Talk’n to yo’self.”

“Miles!”

He snorted, turning to set the gun back in its place and returning to the window, he watched you look around again and tap your foot impatiently before you caught his eye once more.

“Here, I’ll buzz you up, Bambi.”

You gave him a curious look and begun to speak before he rushed out of your view, hearing you mutter to yourself —,

“Bambi?”

—

Going up to meet him wasn’t hard, neither was sneaking through his apartment, giggling with him when he was too caught up looking at you to watch where he was going, and ending up knocking his foot on his coffee table. He cursed into the dark room, a harsh whisper — before forgetting his pains when you snickered at him. Putting a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself and the other gripping your bag tighter. He watched the Moons light hit your eyes and make them sparkle something romantic, and when you offered him a questioned “You okay?”, he just laughed with you.

Being with you was so, so easy.

You both eventually stumbled into his room, shucking off your shoes by his door and sitting cross legged, facing each other on his bed.

Not before he rushed to hide the drawing of you while you were preoccupied with your shoes.

Short quips and poking insults were thrown at each others’ stupidity, throughout.

“Not my fault you weren’t paying attention!”

“Actually, it was.”

“What was that?”

“I said ‘I was’!”

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, “Liar, you were too caught up eyeing my bag!”

He smirked, voice low and smooth, “What’d you bring—? Protection?”

A sudden burst of laughter left you before he put a hand over your mouth, shushing you through his own gavelled chuckles.

You peeled his hand off your mouth by his wrist, holding it between you both and gave him a sly smile.

“You’re gonna want some real protection in a second.”

He raised his brows, turning his palm over to trace his fingers over your palm.

“Oh yeah?”

You hummed an affirmation before using your other hand to set down the bag. The one he had in his own going limp in his hold.

“Yup. But you won’t deny me.”

“I won’t?”

His accent curled smoothened over the words, dripping honey malt into your ears.

“Nuh uh.”

Another chuckle was granted at your antics before it suddenly ceased, only as soon as you pulled out the first item.

“Is that—,”

“Yeah.”

“And you want—“

“Yuh huh.”

“God, [Name]. Where did you even find this!” His hand dropped your own and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Watching him grab the mask with a scrunched up look on his face was worth it, though.

“It’s honestly pretty popular—,”

“We’re not doing this!” He glanced up at you through his lashes, and when he caught you already watching him, he shut down his fluttering heart by focusing on the item in hand.

“Oh, yes we are —! And there’s more!”

“Nah. No fuckin’ way.”

You bit your lip and rummaged through the bag again, and his attention was stolen by you once more.

Flame from a candle *you got him complimenting your features in a romantic light.

The longer he admired you, the more he realised he could never possibly do you justice. No still drawing could ever compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to you.

“Look! There’s even a hand mask! It has claws like you, it’s so cute—…”

Your voice faded in and out through his mind, more so focused on the way your lips moved than anything. On how your eyes kept flicking to look into his, exaggerated hand movements emphasising your excitement in a way he could only describe as endearing.

You were so soft, so sweet to him.

He couldn’t love you, he couldn’t let you love him.

Not with your innocence, your purity. Something so simple to have, and yet complicated to love.

He didn’t want to ruin you, to taint your view of this world — and of him.

Your candidness wasn’t built on naïveté, but trust, and hope for virtue. You believed in good, believed that not everything was black and white — and that some things were.

There was simplicity in you, that could only be admired by a troubled mind. Those with troubled existence longed to have the tranquility of a partner rid of pain. To have someone they could shield from the depths they’d travelled, and to never let them lie witness to the bottom of a raging sea.

He’d never let you feel pain like he has.

And yet, he can’t help but feel he’d be one to cause it.

The things he did were dangerous, the life he lived was worse. He’d get killed, or get you killed.

He couldn’t do that to you.

You gently grabbed his hands, snapping him out of his spiralling as you examined them.

“You might not be able to do the hand mask—…” You looked up at him again, a thoughtful squint to your eyes. “Got a lot of cuts.”

You looked down again and his breath escaped him, Miles watched your nose twitch as you considered his wounds, his hand shaking under your touch.

“Oh! Wait I—“

Your face lit up once more, hand dipping into the bag and searching around for a moment with an excited gleam.

“Mm?”

He tilted his head in question, and when you glanced back at him, he averted his eyes to the bag. Right as you pulled out Prowler themed bandaids.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You laughed again, giggling at the mere coincidence.

“I didn’t even—,” You choked a little and tested up, laughing harder and trying to keep quiet.

“,I didn’t even go in to get these! They were just there and I couldn’t not get them.”

You squinted in laughter and his thick chuckle made your smile widen.

“Ohh,” He dragged out the word, a disbelieving lull to his tone. “,Yeah sure, Chiquita.”

Your laughter died down and his find stare came to your attention, rendering you flustered for a solid second. Your grip on his fingers twitching.

“Here, I’ll—,” You distracted yourself, trying to rid your face from any sign of crush.

Silly, childish crush (That you wouldn’t dream of trying to get rid of).

You grabbed the box of band-aids with one hand, other gently placing his injured one over your knee, mumbling as you went.“,Put these on..”

“Yeah..” He spoke breathlessly, staring at you without an ounce of shame.

You ignored the flutter of hope in your chest, focusing on unwrapping the adhesive — and taking care of him.

—

You smoothed the mask over his face, running your thumb over his cheek bone to straighten out a crease.

“Stop making faces—!”

He snorted, lip curling up at your grumpy demand.

“Lo siento, cordero.”

"I'm sorry, lamb."

“Just—.” You leaned in closer to him, subconsciously being drawn to him.

His, now band-aid adorned, hands slipped up to your hips, Miles not even realising he was doing it until he felt your flesh under his calloused hands.

He didn’t move them, guilt being outweighed by his indulgence. He could focus on the way your hands lost their steady hold, how you had to refocus to continue fixing his stupid mask.

How you looked so good, so sweet, being this close to him.

Felt so warm under his rough fingers.

“Just?”

He went to raise his eyebrows, before schooling his expression again. You gave him an approving look at the action.

“It was rhetoric.”

“Wh—?” He snorted, eyes crinkling around the edges.

“Yeah? ‘Just’ — Rhetoric?”

You bit your lip and hummed. “Yup.”

“Oh, so sorry— Should’ve known.”

He pinched the skin along your hip and you gave a yelp and playfully bat his hand away.

“Play fair!”

“I am.”

His hands slid up your thighs again, you scoffed but didn’t stop him. And he watched your face, tracing your features like he’d done a thousand times before, he let himself have this.

Just for tonight, he swears.

You turned from him slightly, shuffling through the bag again to look for another item. Purple lip masks, it wasn’t inherently “Prowler”, but it was cute.

“[Name].”

“Mm?” You hummed, glancing at him before finding the lip mask and pulling it out, shaking it a little in a cheer.

“[Name].”

You looked at him more intently now, curiosity overpowering your urge to smooth out the crease he’s now made by talking.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

Your voice was light, worried but not enough to be off putting.

Miles sighed through a stuttered breath, nails dragging over your flesh in small circles, and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind him.

You watched his eyes drop, focusing not on your face, but on where he touched you — a nervous glint in his eye that you hadn’t seen before.

“I find it hard to talk to you.”

His eyes snapped back up, mask scrunching with his face.

“What?” Voice confused, and a little tired — like he knew this was coming, he knew you’d get tired.

*But that’s not what you were getting at.

Your skin prickled once more when he spread his hands out, disregarding his calm circling to grip your waist, his fingers sliding just under the hem of your shirt.

“It’s hard, Yknow?—,” You fiddled with the packet in your hand and you swear you felt him tug your hips closer, like a plea for you not to leave him.

“,—I feel like every time we’re together, I’m this close to telling you everything I’m thinking.”

The tremors in your body grew larger, shaking in nerve as you ran your tongue along your lip.

“Like I trust you so much I have to hold back. — And it’s hard to.”

You met his gaze, watching his lips part in batted breath.

“You make me feel safe.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move. Just stared at you in silent apprehension.

You shifted on your knees, squirming at his quietness.

“Please say something.”

You whispered to him, backing down to a reticent tone.

He took a breath, still considering you, his look much softer now. You watched his face flash again, bringing a rather domestic look to his face.

He sighed out the aforementioned gasp, and his hands clenched again, you felt it all.

His warmth against your face, his hands along your body. The nerves under his skin digging into your own, bringing both of you into an interlinked bundle of edge.

“You know I—..”

He stuttered, voice breaking.

“Nunca te lo confesarè.”

His voice was small, smaller than you’d ever heard it. Like he was trying to tell you something, but could only force the words out.

“I won’t be able to.”

“You don’t need to.”

Miles watched as you dropped the packet in your hands, the lack of noise palpable once the rustling was gone.

He could only look on as you bring a hand up to smooth over his shoulder, and slipped the other to his jaw.

“You don’t need to, Miles.”

He felt like crying, holding back emotions so strong his body shuddered.

“You don’t need to say a thing,”

Your fingers ran over a scar and he melted further into you, leaning forward in your hold, his own hands grabbing at you in a firm, but never hurtful, hold.

“,Not to me.”

You watched as the man above you shrunk, losing the tension in his body the longer you held him.

His eyes closed, savouring the feeling of your softened body.

“Tell me you understand.”

He furrowed his brows, shyly opening his eyes, his heart to you.

“I understand, I do.”

He pressed forward, crowding over you. His head dropped closer to your ear, leaning his head on your shoulder despite the face mask still being on. You hadn’t even cared for your now wet shirt, dragging your hands down to his forearms and let him make the pace. Keep him comfortable no matter how bad you wanted to kiss his woes away.

You would be the person he could lean on, whether you mean that metaphorically or not.

“Sleep here tonight?”

It’s not like you hadn’t before. You and Miles having slept in the same bed plenty of times prior, at an all time high when his dad passed, and he could barely sleep without you. It’d just be different now, better.

“Stay with you?”

“Stay with me.”

You hummed, leaning closer so his upper body was dependent solely on yours. His hands slipped further around you, in a sweet hug, and yours traced his arms and neck, dragging nails down scarred skin.

“Okay.”

—

Everything was stripped down, both the face masks and the wrapping around his bloodied hands, although the Cat-Vigilante themed bandaids still remained.

Miles had basically fell asleep, getting calmer by the minute when you rubbed his shoulders, the tension in his muscles leaving him more relaxed than he’d been in years.

He was breathing softly against your neck and his hands lay limp, wrists hanging off your thighs.

You shifted, slipping the bag full of both trash and stuff you still hadn’t unpacked off the bed, cringing at the rustle and double checking Miles to make sure he hadn’t been startled.

You still needed to move him though, gently using your free hand, the one not cradling his head to your neck, to lift the corner of the cover so you could lay him down.

He sniffles and you freeze, cringing.

“Mm.. Quit movin’…”

You huff amusedly at his grumpy tone. Watching as he shoved his face deeper into you, inhaling slowly. His lips brushed your throat and you worried he could feel the race of your pulse under them.

“Miles, baby lay down.”

“You’re s’ warm.”

Another small laugh, airy and light, left you.

You moved to lie down with him, and he begrudgingly pulled himself away to get under the covers, dragging his body to tuck under his quilts.

He eyed you from under heavy lids, and furrowed his brows, unhappy — before grabbing the front of your shirt and tugging you towards him.

You followed his hands with a goofy smile and he let himself grin back.

“C’mere, Chiquita.”

He settled his head under your chin, tangling his legs with yours and pulling the covers back over you both.

His arm slithered over your waist, and up your shirt, cold hands smoothing against your warm back.

Soft breaths tickled your skin and you let yourself relax, letting his rising chest lull you to sleep.

He pressed soft kisses to your neck, touch as light as a butterflies kiss.

“Eres toda una belleza.”

He kissed your skin again, muttering words of admiration to you that got more drowsy by the second. After a minute, turning into incoherent mumbles and soft tones.

You yawned lightly, and felt your own eyelids droop. “Go sleep, Miles.”

You kissed his crown, and he sighed against you, dragging his head to look up at you and fighting off sleep.

He kissed your jaw one last time and you gave him a smile that could’ve flatlined him had he be a lesser man.

“Goodnight, [Name].”

You slowly blinked at him.

Your glossy eyes suddenly looked the best they ever had, and your skin glowed with a new found love he couldn’t describe if it killed him.

Your voice was softer than he thought possible and he felt like he had the first time he’d met you.

A small boy smitten. Riddled with an infatuation at such heights he didn’t understand. Love too big for his body, too big for his heart. So much of it that it spilled from his eyes, leaking into the tears he shed. Filled his veins, and pumped throughout his body. It dug it’s way into his bones and set in the hollow like the marrow that lived there.

It was too much for him, so he gave it to you.

And you took it.

You took him.

“Goodnight, Miles.”

—

BRO THIS TOOK SO LONG LMFAO

also ao3 is so fucking funny

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x you #miles my beloved #earth42!miles x reader #earth 42 #earth42!miles #earth 42 miles x reader #miles gonzalo morales #miles g morales #miles morales 42 #miles 42 #miles 1610 #atsv miles #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x you #miles x you #miles g x reader

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n talks abt being compared to her sister, family tension, food/eating mention, lowkey survivors guilt going on

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -> LIKE IT USED TO BE (partially written, wc: 898)

"Oh good, you're not dead yet," Han speaks a bit loudly into the phone and you move it away from your face slightly.

The bright screen has your eyes straining in the otherwise dark room, tucked under a plush comforter from your childhood. It's amazing it's still in good condition considering how old it is, but your bed squeaks under you to remind you of the age of this room full of old memories. On the night stand next to you is a framed photo of you with your family, your mom and dad standing behind you and another little girl, slightly taller than you; your sister. You lean over and put the frame face down.

"Still alive, barely," you reply with a sigh. "Why'd you assume I'm having a bad time?"

"Let me think," he puts a finger to his bottom lip in fake concentration. "'How am I supposed to last four more days'... doesn't exactly sound like someone having a good time."

"You caught me, but I swear it's nothing." A lie. "Nothing interesting." A truth; is your family drama really worth talking about? "How's the apartment?"

"Fine. We've started to try and befriend the guy down the hall, Seungmin? Maybe you've run into him?" You shake your head. "Minho seems to get along with him the best. I think it's because they both act unwelcoming to strangers."

This makes you snort. The two of you continue to talk and laugh, the cats making an appearance at one point with Minho, who gives you a short wave, and you don't realize how late it's getting until your eyes catch the time briefly; 3:08AM. Shit. How loud have you been? You freeze when you hear a door open, muting Jisung on the other end and flipping your phone over. Your door opens.

"What are you doing up so late? Don't you know what time it is?" Your sister groans. "And you're being kind of loud, mind keeping it down a bit? Who're you even talking to?"

"No one," you say too quickly, internally cringing at yourself. "Sorry. I'm going to bed soon."

"You're lucky it was me and not mom who walked in here," she says with a sort of laugh. "She would have screamed her head off and taken your phone, despite being an adult now."

You sit up. "Yeah."

"She really fucked us up a bit, huh?" She sits next to you hesitantly when you don't reply. "Maybe we'd be closer now."

"Hyo-"

"I'm sorry," she stands suddenly. "I shouldn't be saying all this. Forget this, please." Your older sister stands in the doorway, eyes pleading. "Don't mention this to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," you whisper, knowing damn well Jisung heard every word.

As you listen to her footsteps fade, you learn to breath again, flipping your phone back over and unmuting Han. When he notices you're back, he says nothing, fiddling with the string on the hoodie he wears.

"You-"

"It's okay-" You speak at the same time and laugh, breaking the newfound tension. He continues. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I guess this is what you meant by complicated?"

You pout, eyes beginning to sting. When you speak, your voice breaks a little. "Yeah, I mean, it's hard, you know? All my life I've been compared to Hyo by my mother and teachers and even my friends. Like, I have to be her instead of myself, and she never once stepped in to protect me from all that like a big sister is supposed to. Never heard her stand up for me when it was happening right in front of her, no moment of 'hey, let my little sister be who she wants, you already have one of me'. I feel like I can't talk to her anymore. I'm rambling, sorry."

"No, it's okay," Han reassures you.

"We used to be close when we were young," you speak into the space he's left you. "Then as we got older, we drifted. We're only a few years apart, but she always acted so much better than me once we hit a certain age. She said hurtful things to me a lot, and I'm sure I said equally awful things back." A tear falls onto your blanket and you sniff, looking up to your ceiling where a poster of a boy band is pinned to prevent more from falling. "I want my sister back, but... I think there's too much pain."

"Oh Y/nnie," Han gives you a sad look. "I wish I could hug you right now."

"I'm just saying stupid stuff now, I should sleep." You've overshared and want out of this conversation ASAP. "Goodnight Han, sleep well."

He's about to protest when you hang up, moving your phone next to the frame to charge. For a while you lay there, staring at your ceiling with a heavy weight on your chest. You've never fully talked to someone about the way your upbringing made you feel or the way it still affects you. There's still a scared little girl inside of you, shying away from hands that want to hold you, comfort you. Because what if it's all a lie? What if they all leave you, like Hwa? Or like... like him?

You glance over to the frame again, not having it in you to flip it back up.

notes -> me vs y/ns mother rn- who do we think this "him" is referring to? and what happened? will hyunjin and y/n make up?

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

#-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143 #stray kids smau #skz smau #non idol au #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee know smau #lee minho smau #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x fem reader #lee minho x fem reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #smau #social media au

[hp-hcs]

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #hp x gn reader #mattheo riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #gn reader #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire x reader #hp x enby reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #theo nott

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

[lebrookestore]

sixteen | l.dh [part i]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here 

Notes from brooke: hello hi, it's been literally over a year since i posted a full length fic so view this one as something of a peace offering for my inacitivity. it fully started out as a joke drabble concept i thought of out of the blue one day but as i always do, i got carried away and here we are with another angst monster 😭 i wanted to post it as a oneshot but tumblr is a bitch as usual, so here's part one. there were a lot of complications with this fic, but i'm extremely proud of how it turned out and it took a lot of hard work and time to get done so i'm really fucking nervous to put this out there lmao but i hope you guys like it and if so please leave some feedback!! (format of this fic is heavily inspired by forever, interrupted by taylor jenkins reid)

➳ read part ii here!!

prologue – then.

There was something enchanting about the boy with the headphones at the back of the class.

You didn’t think you had seen him before today, which was noteworthy considering your town's excruciatingly small geography. The students in your class were the same ones you had gone to preschool with, and you hadn’t seen a new face within the four yellowed walls of your classroom for all the sixteen years you had lived.

This begged the question - who was this foreign yet beguiling creature that took up one of the ever-sought-out back benches of the dull classroom you inhabited every day of the week? Moreover, you wondered how he had the audacity to have his listen to music while the class was in session.

“Miss L/n?”

Snapping your head back to the front, you bit the inside of your cheek to top yourself from visibly cringing at the shrill voice of your teacher, who was presently eyeing you with an extremely disapproving expression. Much to your displeasure, all eyes were on you within seconds of that unfortunate moment, making you wish you could sink further into the wooden seat you currently occupied.

“Yes?” The moment the word left your mouth, you regretted it. Faking ignorance had never been your strong point, and it wasn’t about to come through for you now.

“Would you like to tell me what you find so interesting at the back or answer the question I just asked?”

You desperately hoped no one could see the warmth infiltrating your cheeks as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, shaking your head as solemnly as possible.

“Sorry Ma’am.”

The teacher shook her head in retirement, as if she was used to picking on you, and moved on to picking on another student, leaving you to slouch in your seat and let out a sigh of relief. You had always hated being the centre of attention, especially in embarrassing situations such as this one, and recovering from them gracefully– just like your non-existent nonchalance– wasn’t in your skillset either

You looked to your side at your classmate who delivered the answer with ease, looking frankly quite bored as she did so. It was the topper of the class– Eunsook– the girl that always seemed to be ahead of everyone else in every class possible. Her words blurred together as your eyes once again wandered to a certain stranger in the back.

Except for this time, he was looking right back at you.

This was somehow much worse than being put on the spot by your teacher, because this? This meant you had been caught on a much more personal level. 

And then, as if to make things even worse, the side of his mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement of you, and he brought a hand up to your view, waving it a little in your direction.

Positively horrified, you immediately looked away and made a mental note to never glance in his direction ever again, deciding that pretending to be paying attention in class was a good enough cover-up. 

However, this proved to be quite the task, partly due to the fact that economics wasn’t the most exciting subject, and because his face had been imprinted in your mind, from the intensity of his stare to the slightest of smiles that danced on his lips while he looked at you as if you had amused him in some way.

Your teacher's frown deepened upon seeing the interaction and she cleared her throat, giving you a pointed look. 

Brilliant. 

“Mr Lee, please stand up.”

Oh thank god, it wasn’t you this time. Maybe you had just been imagining her looking at you.

You heard the scraping of the chair legs against the wooden floors and glanced over in its direction, only to realise that it was him she had been called upon.

Well. At least this time you had a good reason to be staring.

It gave you the opportunity to truly take him in all at once, rather than in the pathetic little increments you had to previously resort to throughout the class, sneaking a peek here and there. You studied the boy– dark brown hair that fell into his eyes, which currently wore a look of mild annoyance, striking features etched into his honeyed skin and–

Oh.

He was really cute. 

“Would you care to explain why you were distracting Miss L/n?”

Fuck. You had been naive to think that you would have been let off the hook so easily, especially by this particular teacher. If you had caught her attention for the wrong reason even once, you would be the one she put on the spot for the rest of the class, and this time you had the displeasure of being her guinea pig. The worst part about it was that it was absolutely your fault.

Once again, his line of sight travelled to you, before flickering back up at the oh-so-despised teacher and shaking his head.

“It won’t happen again.”

His voice cut through the expectant silence of class and right through you, deep and with a certain patronising lilt to it. It was a stupid thought, but you thought that it suited him perfectly. A pretty voice to compliment a pretty face. 

“It better not,” the teacher warned sternly. “Since the opportunity has so conveniently arisen for us, I will now introduce you to the rest. Students, this is Donghyuck, and he’s new to the class.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air for a moment before she motioned for him to sit back down. 

Just as she was about to resume her teaching, the bell rang and saved you from any further humiliation. The rustle of books closing and backpacks being unzipped carried through the room, and you joined in, collecting your things and getting to your feet in preparation to leave. 

The light patter of footsteps closened in, followed by a voice. “Hey.”

You looked up from arranging your books, fingers digging into the material of your bag when you realised it was him who had approached you in all his glory– this time up close. It also gave you the opportunity to take note of his outfit, a graphic shirt lazily tucked into jeans, and although it was nothing special, somehow the air he held made it seem a lot more special than it was.

Like something about him made the ordinary feel extraordinary.

“Hello,” You managed to get out, putting a hold on that thought as you met his gaze for the third time. Immediately you regretted not having cleared your throat first, despising the hoarse undertone that accompanied the singular word you had uttered. You had hoped that your second impression would surpass the first, that being extremely unfavourable, but it seemed like the world was not on your side when it came to this boy.

This new, mysterious boy you had no right to be so oddly fixated on. A smile painted itself upon his mouth as he did a once over of you, causing you to feel as if the pale blue shirt you had worn that day was much too hot under the collar, and you had to resist the urge to reach up and unbutton the top to cool yourself down. You wished you could tie your hair up among other things, and tucked your hands behind your back, playing with the hair tie you always kept on your right wrist nervously, expelling some of that anxious energy that had invaded your body while keeping him in the dark about it.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Donghyuck.”  His name sounded infinitely better when he pronounced it, its two syllables ringing in your ears. Nodding carelessly, you lifted your backpack off from the table and slung one strap over your shoulder.

“I heard.”

That answer earned you an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

Right. It seemed that the manners your mother had drilled into your very psyche had finally come to fruition as you realised he was waiting for you to introduce yourself back.

“I’m Y/n.” Your fingernails dug into the strap of your bag, the sweat accumulating in the palm of your hand brushing off against it. This position was one you had never been in before, nerves all over the place over an attractive stranger, but his unabashedness had unnerved you immensely, leaving you with no choice but to grasp for your words. “It’s…nice to meet you too.”

If the option of the ground opening up beneath your feet and swallowing you whole was available, you would have taken it without any hesitation. You detested the awkward pause you had inserted in the middle of your statement, it made you sound flighty and moronic, as if you couldn’t put together basic conversation phrases.

He didn’t seem to mind though, the slightest twitch of his lips being the only indication that he had noticed your scatterbrained state– an indication you had missed on your end. 

“I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he sauntered off. You watched as his figure retreated through the doorway as you stood there, dumbfounded at the nature of the interaction. More importantly, a singular question lingered in your mind, the question of how he had managed to get away with using his headphones in class.

It would go unanswered.

i] now.

There was something so distinctly you about the woman that sat across Donghyuck.

He focused on the different items displayed on the menu he held in front of him, refraining from glancing at the woman for the third time in thirty seconds. He was supposed to have chosen what he wanted to order a solid five minutes ago, but his composure had been completely thrown off and decision fatigue was quickly setting in.

“I’ll have the steak.”

Her name was Kim Yeonmi, twenty-four in age just like him and very pretty. An elegant dark blue dress donned her figure, her dark, wispy hair tied up into a bun with a few strands of hair let loose at the sides to effectively frame her face. Perhaps it was a little too much to have a first date at a fancy restaurant such as this, with its ostentatious ambience, but he wasn’t too sure of how dating worked at all. 

There was just one person he had experience with.

She looked like she was enjoying the extravagance though, bobbing her head to his choice as she gave the menu another once over. “Just give me another minute.”

He smiled politely. “Take as much time as you need.”

She looked nothing like you, but the way she muttered the names of each dish back to herself under her breath had thrown him back in time, reminding him of how you used to do the very same. 

“It makes it easier to choose when I say them out loud”, you had explained one day to him. “The one that sounds better is the one you pick.”

A foolproof strategy according to you, one you defended with all your might no matter how many times he teased you about it being ridiculous. He recalled the way you’d glare at him, hands resting low on your hips and an exasperated look on your face, the one he had grown so fond of. It was something he’d tease you about, how he loved the pissed-off look you’d give him even though he was the culprit for its showing pretty much every time. 

He missed the dish Yeonmi finally settled on, snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, gesturing the waiter over to place the order. When it came to her order, he let her speak for herself, a good save.

He had to get his act together. 

“So,” he began, leaning back a little in his seat in an attempt to relax. “What do you do, Yeonmi?”

The woman took a sip of the wine that they had previously ordered before answering, “I work in finance.”

The information barely latched into his memory, an absent-minded nod from his end to make it look like he was genuinely listening. Like he wasn’t observing the delicate messiness of her hairdo– messiness that was clearly intentional, done for the illusion of being effortless. It reminded him of how your hair always seemed to be half out of your ponytail, but it shouldn’t have, because that had never been intentional. 

Donghyuck didn’t like the way your memory haunted him so insistently at such an inconvenient time, and he didn’t understand why it did either.

“I’m a music producer,” he informed her, a simper making a show on his face at the mention of his occupation. It was a thing of pride for him, the amount of work he had put in to say those words in the same sentence as the word ‘successful’ was astronomical, but it had all been worth it in the end. Music had been his life's blood ever since he was a child and the fact that he now was able to work with it every day and it was the reason he could take care of his mother meant the world to him. 

New York baby, it made dreams flicker to life. The move he made at merely eighteen had been the best decision he had ever made.

It hadn’t come without its sacrifices though. After all, no risk, no reward.

The food arrived, piping hot and delicious enough to act as an excuse for his distant demeanour. He was present enough to make light conversation, doing his best to store all the little bits of information about Yeonmi in the back of his mind on the off chance of this first date turning into a few more. 

And maybe, hopefully, he’d be less of an ass about them. Maybe this could go somewhere.

The two walked out of the restaurant, Donghyuck holding the door open for her while she exited. A light pattering of pink dusted the woman's cheeks at his consistent shows of gentlemanliness, but it went wholly unnoticed by him, who refused to let her catch a cab from the busy streets of the city, and insisted he drop her back to her place of residence.

How could one not fall for Lee Donghyuck when he was just so charming even when he didn’t intend to be?

Pop songs played at a low volume through the radio, the typical ones that played on a Friday evening to make the daily evening commute a little easier for those coming back from their workplaces, but heightened by the fact that the weekend was at large. The ride was a pleasant one, the music allowing the silences in conversation to be comfortable. Yeonmi snuck a shy glance at Donghyuck through the rearview mirror, noticing the way his long eyelashes framed his eyes that were focused on the road before them. 

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel rhythmically, humming along the song that played as Yeonmi spoke about how she had been obsessed with that very one a few weeks ago. She seemed to be infinitely better at traversing the treacherous waters of conversation, seemingly not even noticing how withdrawn he seemed to be. 

Her chattering also reminded him of you, though a little less interesting. It was a tad comical, how he had the audacity to compare every little thing about her to the one person he had pushed away. 

“That’s my apartment complex.”

He parked the car and got out of it, circled the vehicle to get on her side, and opened the door for her, causing a pleased smile to appear on Yeonmi’s face. Then, he walked her up to the lobby of the building, exchanging pleasantries and goodbyes with a muttering of a hopeful ‘see you again’ thrown into the mix for good measure. 

And with that, she was gone, and Donghyuck was alone once again. The sky was a dark blue, splattered with a few glimmering stars amidst its midnight canvas, the moon hiding behind the misty clouds. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers and let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in, shutting his eyes and counting slowly to ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

It had been eight years.

Eight years since he had let go of you, opened the palm of his hand and watched as yours slipped right through his fingers. Sometimes, he could still feel the ghost of your skin linger on his fingertips. 

Eight years was a hell of a lot of time, and time was said to heal all wounds. Time should have let him focus on his date instead of thinking of you and the little habits you had that had burned themselves into his memory. 

Time was a fucking liar. 

It was pathetic really. He had managed to not think of you for six of those years, save for the occasional moments when he had had one too many drinks and the alcohol had scrounged up cherished moments of the two of you from the vault of his mind. 

But he was completely and utterly sober right now, almost too sober, he thought, for the wine he had consumed earlier hadn’t done much at all. The cold air nipped at the exposed skin of his face and face, grounding him to reality with its sudden harshness, another reminder that too much time had passed for him to be doing this. He had let go of the right to do so. 

And yet, he found himself thinking of the only girl he had ever loved that windy Friday eve, her smiling face washed into the indigo skies.

The scent of a corporate office clung to your clothes, carrying itself with you as you inserted your keys into the lock of your door, twisted them, and pushed them open to reveal the solace of your apartment. You entered, slipped off your shoes and trudged into the living room where you flopped down on your couch, letting your muscles fully relax for the first time in eight hours. 

“Y/n? Are you home?”

Lifting your head limply, you let your eyelids flutter open to peek over the backrest of the sofa, only to be met with your roommate standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile seemingly stuck onto her made-up face. “Oh, it is you! How was work?”

You gave yourself a second to admire her handiwork from where you were sat (read: sprawled out), wishing you had the ability to do a perfect winged liner as she could. 

“Tiring,” you complained with a sigh, feeling as if your bones were going to disintegrate into dust any moment.

She tutted sympathetically, retreating back into the kitchen. You heard the water running for a few seconds, and then she emerged again, walking over to you and handing you a glass of water. “Poor thing.”

Kim Yeonmi had been your roommate for the last two years, ever since a mutual friend of yours put the two of you in contact when you had been searching for accommodation after college that fits your budget. She was a warm person, sweet and helpful whenever she could be, and the two of you had hit it off from the moment you moved in, the arrangement blossoming into a fruitful friendship for the both of you. 

“Bless you,” you took a sip of the water, straightening up your position to give her space beside you. She had even remembered to add a few ice cubes, the cool liquid revived your tired senses and cleared your mind. 

She sat down, tucking her legs under herself as she reached out her hand, resting it on the top of your head and rubbing it comfortingly. You leaned into her touch, closed your eyes and savoured the quiet moment of solitude– the first one you have had today.

Then you opened your eyes and turned to her.

“So how was it?”

A bashful smile decorates her crimson-painted lips as she averted her gaze from you in an attempt to hide the flush that was quickly making itself known on her face. She cleared her throat, answering in the most casual and non-committal way she could. “Good.”

You snickered at her response to your simple question, “Seems like it was more than just ‘good’.”

“Well….”

Yeonmi sighed, leaning back into the cushions properly as she got comfortable and thats how you knew you had her. 

“Come on, give me the details!” You disregarded your fatigue, slapping her arm playfully to convince her to spill. She laughed at your eagerness, a laugh that was laced with girlish merriment, and rubbed the back of her neck, the smile on her face not slipping from its place even once. 

“It was amazing,” she confessed, much to your delight. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great date.”

You had witnessed her stressing over this date of hers since yesterday and had caught glimpses of her nerves this morning before you left for work. To help ease those nerves, you had helped pick out her outfit, made sure to respond to every one of her manic texts to you between work and called her back during your break. You were overjoyed that it had gone well for her.

This was the first date she had gone on in an entire year after her last relationship had come to an end. It was a messy breakup, leaving you with an extremely shaken Yeonmi who, in her grief, had vowed to never love someone again. Thankfully, that phase was one she got over quickly, and you were proud of how she had managed to heal and put herself out there once again.

God knows you had tried and failed.

She began describing her evening, starting with how her extremely charming date had already been waiting at the restaurant they had agreed upon. She had met this man on a dating app- the name of which she refused to tell you unless it turned out to be more than just a dead end, and after a few weeks of talking, they had finally decided to go on a date, something she had been anticipating for a while now. You listened, squealing and giggling along with her at the appropriate times to reciprocate her evident excitement. 

“And you know what was so cute?” She continued, talking a little faster now that she had warmed up and was in the thick of describing the date. “He seemed a little distracted like he was just as nervous as I was about the entire thing, and that just put me to ease, you know? A suave guy is nice and all, and don’t get me wrong, he was confident, but that slight nervousness showed me that he liked me as well.” 

Her gushing was endearing, and you nodded with a smile. “He sounds perfect.”

“Oh he’s an absolute dreamboat Y/n, seriously, I don’t know where or how I managed to stumble upon him, but I must have done something good in my past life to deserve this.”

You placed your now empty glass on the little table next to the couch, settling in closer to her. “You always do good, you had this good karma coming.”

“Oh I forgot to tell you the best part,” She looked at you with a serious look on her face, but her eyes were practically twinkling. “He likes Taylor Swift. He was singing along to her songs when he dropped me home.”

Your jaw dropped. “Now I know he really is perfect.” You grinned, the expression quickly morphing into a yawn as your exhaustion finally caught up to you again, and in good timing, considering she had finished talking about her date. She looked over at the clock and then back at you. 

“You should go to bed, you’ve had a long day.”

You wholeheartedly agreed with this suggestion, stood up on your feet and stretched your arms out above your head. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it a night here.” Picking up your bag that had been strewn out across the floor, you walked to the doorway that led to your room, before turning around and facing her once again. 

“Hey, one last thing.”

She gazed up at you in the midst of removing her earrings and hummed in acknowledgement, “Hmm?”

“What’s his name?”

“Huh?”

“You never told me his name,” You shook your head in amusement. “I think you were too caught up in all your excitement.” For the past half an hour, she had just been referring to him in only pronouns, something you had just realised. 

“Oh,” her lips formed an ‘o’ shape in surprise at herself. “Donghyuck. His name is Lee Donghyuck.”

And just like that, your entire world fell apart.

It's funny how a simple name can knock the air out of your lungs.

That was an understatement. That name– his name– was anything but simple. The three syllables that constituted it stood for so much, things said and left unsaid, buried in the grave of your mind.

The unadulterated shock you felt at the name she uttered caused your already aching legs to feel even more unstable than they did, and your knees nearly gave out underneath you. You steadied yourself by leaning against the doorframe, a shaky breath escaping your lips as an emotion that you hadn’t felt so strongly in a very long time ripped through you. 

Despair.

No. No, it couldn’t be–

For a moment, you could almost see his eyes looking at you, one moment with such affection and the next with more sorrow than you could ever begin to describe. I’m sorry.

“Y/n?”

You gripped the doorframe, feeling as if the rug had been swept from right under your feet, and focused your eyes on Yeonmi on the couch, who was now staring at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

How many times had you lied while answering this question when it came to him? You had lost count, so there wouldn’t be any harm in doing it once more. Sucking in a harsh gulp of air that hit the back of your throat, you forced a smile. “Yep. Goodnight.”

You choked out the words, spun on your heel and stumbled to your door, grabbing and twisting the doorknob in haste, your entire body weight leaning on the door as it swung open. Practically tripping over your own feet, you shut it quickly, both hands fastened to the knob as you rested your forehead against the door, using it as support for your body that suddenly seemed several pounds heavier.

It had been eight years since you had heard another person say his name, the sound of it cutting through reality itself, digging into your skin and latching onto it. Perhaps that was the cause of excess weight that seemed to drag you down at the very moment. 

Fuck.

You took a minute to wonder what God was sitting above and laughing at your sorry state.

Using the door behind your back as a guide, you slid down to the ground, pulling your knees closer to your chest and interlocking your fingers in front of them, forming your very own cocoon. You pathetically hoped that it would shield you from the torrent of your own emotions.

Rationally speaking, this was most definitely a coincidence. You were sure that there were several people around the world with the first name ‘Donghyuck’ and last name ‘Lee’ – after all, it was a pretty common last name to have. The chances of this guy, Yeonmi’s perfect dreamy date being your Donghyuck were extremely improbable.

Your Donghyuck. You almost laughed bitterly. He hadn’t been your Donghyuck for a long, long time. 

You didn’t know if he had ever truly been yours to begin with. 

I’m so sorry, Y/n.

You closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing, only to snap them open immediately when the image of his eyes once again rippled through the forefront of your mind.

This was ridiculous, you knew, the extremity of your reaction was wholly uncalled for. It had been eight years and one would think you would have been better at controlling your emotions, especially when it came to something, someone, that was so heavily stuck in the past.

It turned out that you were also stuck in the past. The way your legs resembled those of a newborn giraffe a few minutes ago was enough proof of that.

A groan escaped you, one that was a mix of frustration and distress. You couldn’t quite place the new ache that had emerged in your chest, a dull throb that felt icy cold, yet strangely familiar. You reasoned with yourself, your thoughts waging a silent war among each other as you laid out all the reasons why it couldn’t and wouldn’t be the man that lingered in your life like a poltergeist you didn’t have the energy to exercise. 

You could hear the soft padding of Yeonmi's footsteps outside your door as she made her way to her own room and the soft click of her lock as she retired for the night. Slowly, you let yourself relax and mentally gather all the strength you possessed right then to pick yourself up from the ground and carry yourself to your bed, the usually short walk feeling like a thousand steps away. The soft cotton sheets welcomed your weary body, alleviating the weight that currently sat upon your shoulders and providing you with some temporary relief.

It was late, and it never did anyone any good to think about things beyond their control in the intimidating silence of the night. Letting your eyes close for real this time, you turned onto your side and tried to quiet your mind.

But there was still a small part of you that thought back to then.

ii] then.

He liked cookies-and-cream flavoured ice cream.

You gripped the complimentary wooden spoon that came with the cup of ice cream you bought from the convenience store, staring at the slightly melted ice cream that you held with your other hand. Donghyuck was just about done with his, a triumphant smile creeping up on his face every time he glanced at you.

“I told you.”

“Don’t gloat.”

“But your reactions are so cute,” he teased, taking another spoonful of his ice cream. Your biology class had a pop quiz that day, and Donghyuck had tried to help you with an answer you weren’t too sure about. However, his answer sounded even more incorrect than yours, and he made you promise to buy him ice cream if he ended up being correct. “I told you the right answer but no, you insisted you were right and lost the mark.”

The compliment stung a little, or perhaps that was just the summer heat prickling the back of your neck.

“I’m not affected by that,” you huffed, “I’m wondering why you chose such cheap ice cream of all the ones you could have. We just got it and mine’s already melting.”

He shrugged. “It’s not the ice cream that matters, just the fact that you had to buy it for me to symbolise me being right.”

“But there's a Häagen-Dazs right down the street. Sakura and Chenle would have immediately made me buy them that.” Your protests and comparisons seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continued to enjoy his ice cream soup, leaving you to roll your eyes at his flippancy. 

“I don’t want to run you dry, now do I?” That surprised you, and it was apparent to him by the bewildered look in your now-wide eyes. Whenever you offered to pay for your other friends, they always jumped at the chance to exploit you to the best of their abilities, taking full advantage of the opportunity.

There truly wasn’t anyone like Lee Donghyuck. 

You weren’t quite sure how the friendship between the two of you had blossomed, for it had been such a natural thing that it completely slipped you by. The occasional hello turned into walking in the hallways to classes together, texting each other and hanging out after school while eating cheap ice cream. It was just so easy with him, activities you would find boring with others were enjoyable in his presence.

It was unfathomable, how everything about him was so captivating. He carried himself with an effortless aura, as if unaware of how magnetic and goddamn beautiful he was because he truly was one of the most stunning people you had ever set your eyes upon in your short life. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself just admiring the gentle slope of his nose and rise of his cheekbones, and how his hair fell so perfectly. 

And how could you forget his eyes, ones that you had the privilege of being under the gaze of, more so than others? His eyes were your favourite part of him, they left you mesmerised with their fiery intensity and simultaneous gentleness. 

“Your ice cream has completely melted,” he pointed out, nudging your side lightly with his elbow, effectively snapping you out of your self-induced reverie. You looked at your cup, the realisation that you had been aimlessly stirring its contents hitting you.

“Oh.”

“What were you daydreaming about now?” He asked, mirth lacing his voice as he looked on at you affectionately. Over the past few weeks that he had been growing closer to you in, he had started picking up on your little habits.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Nothing.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable,” he cocked an eyebrow. “You were staring at me weirdly.”

Warmth flooded your cheeks, you had been caught due to your carelessness, and yet you couldn’t help but feel a little offended at his choice of words. “Weirdly?”

The edge to your voice gave away how you felt at that moment, and alarmed, Donghyuck shook his head, tossing the empty plastic cup in the recycle bin next to him. “No– well yes– but not in a bad way! Good weird.” In truth, he liked taking up your attention, he would sit forever to dissect the flecks of gold that appeared in your eyes when the sun's rays fell into them, and the lingering emotion he couldn’t quite explain.

“Good weird,” you repeated softly, looking away from him and letting that sink in. The apples of his cheeks were a light rosy shade now as he fidgeted, hoping he had successfully mitigated any possible insult he had accidentally bestowed upon you. He truly hadn’t meant to, there wasn’t an ounce of weirdness about the situation in the slightest, except for the muddled feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach when you looked at him like that.

“You’re the weird one,” you deadpanned finally, and he shrugged in resignment, plucking the cup out of your hands, much to your displeasure, “Hey, I’m not done–”

“There’s no point in finishing this, it’s not ice cream anymore.”

It landed next to his cookies-and-cream cup in the bin, his matter-of-fact words flying into the wind. You didn’t bother arguing, letting your hands fall limply to your sides as you looked at him again, noting how the orange glow of the sky crept through the strands of his hair, framing his head like he was a saint of some sort. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he stated, taking a few steps before stopping and turning around, waiting for you to join him. He was dependable and someone to trust, you thought briefly, biting back a smile at him. Donghyuck pushed down the fluster that was creeping up on him again.

The sunset over your little town, painting the sky in more brilliant colours as the two of you walked underneath it, knuckles silently brushing against each other as it faded to black.

Donghyuck walked into his house, a Taylor Swift song playing through the headphones that he currently had on. While he had been walking you home, the two of you had engaged in a lively conversation about the different musical artists you each enjoyed, which eventually spiralled into an entire monologue on your end about why you loved the aforementioned singer so much. He found the way you spoke so animatedly, your voice brimming with passion and insistence, extremely adorable, and clearly, you had excellent convincing abilities because there he was, listening to her.

He slipped off his shoes, placed them by the door and sighed. The hallway of his new house felt nothing like a home, but the feeling of unfamiliarity that came with it was all too customary for him. 

“Donghyuck?”

His mother's lilting voice reached his ears from where she was, and he followed it. “I’m home.”

“Oh good, good,” she came into view as he made his way into the kitchen, slipping the headphones around his neck and opening a cupboard to get himself a glass. “I was thinking we could watch a movie today. I don’t have any work right now.” 

He poured himself some water, thinking over her offer. He knew her intentions were good, she just wanted to spend time with her son and his answer should have been a yes, but he shook his head anyway. “I have a lot of homework to finish.”

“Oh.” She tried her best to disguise the disappointment that laced her voice for his sake, but he could hear it as clear as day. “Alright, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

He nodded, finished his water and walked upstairs to his room, taking two steps at a time to reach there as quickly as possible. Pushing the door open, he reached a hand out to the switchboard and then hesitated.

Donghyuck didn’t know which switches corresponded with anything. 

For some people, this was an inconvenience at best, but for him, it was a sentiment he was unfortunately very used to. A painful reminder of the unpredictability his life had always possessed. In his last house, he had just about figured out the pattern of which switches were for specific items, but now he was once again left feeling stranded.

And he couldn’t help but blame his mother for it. 

It was the same cycle playing out before him again, the move and the new town, the new faces that he knew would probably not mean much to him in a year when he found himself in a new place, thinking about how he wished that just once, he would be allowed to enjoy the trivial luxury of knowing the switches well enough.

One would think he’d be used to all the moving, but then again, he was just a teenager. 

He also knew it wasn’t truly his mother’s fault – she was simply doing what she needed to in order to support the both of them and being a single mother was no doubt hard on her – but Donghyuck was only sixteen. It was much easier to criticise and resent her than to try and understand for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had been so understanding for so long, that now even the concept of trying to be sympathetic sounded exhausting. 

Every year he’d walk through life without caring much for anyone he came across. Friendships didn’t mean anything to him for they were so fleeting, and the people who promised to stay in contact with him would stop calling and texting within two weeks of him moving. He had realised that letting himself get attached to someone was a waste of time and energy he didn’t have anymore, and had slowly taught himself to isolate himself so that every move didn’t hurt as much.

So why was it that for the first time in what felt like a long time, he felt a pinch in his heart when he thought about moving again?

And why was it your face flickering through his mind that seemed to cause it? 

In complete and unadulterated truth, he had never felt such a pull towards someone as he did to you. It had always been so easy for him to keep people at a distance, but with you, he forgot about having to do that. If anything, he wanted to keep you as close as possible. You were something he hadn’t accounted for.

He flicked the first switch on. The fan whirred to life.

Donghyuck would learn the pattern soon enough. 

iii] now.

The days passed quickly as they usually did, you pushed any lingering doubts about the man Yeonmi was dating to the far periphery of your mind, burying yourself in your work. You were working towards a promotion you had had your eye on for a while now, and it was more important than anything else. 

But it was hard not to notice the little things that had changed about Yeonmi, the way she smiled more and how you’d often catch her hiding a grin when she glanced at her phone. It was difficult to ignore how she’d dress up and go on her dates, especially when she so often asked for your opinion and help, and you were forced to swallow your pride and assist her.

You were being idiotic, you knew, which was why you reminded yourself that this could not have been the boy you once knew. 

You sighed, shutting your laptop and placing your hands on the edge of your desk, pushing yourself to your feet and stretching. It was technically your day off, but you were still swarmed with online meetings and a few dozen emails that you had to send out. Letting your hands fall, you pulled at the hair tie around your wrist and gathered your hair into a ponytail, walking away from your home desk and walking to your bed.  

It was getting pretty late and Yeonmi still wasn’t home. From what you knew, she had gone to a dinner party her date had invited her to, and she had warned you she would be late and to not stay up, but it was in your genes to worry. You wouldn’t get sleep until you knew she was safe and at home in one piece anyway. 

But you supposed shutting your eyes for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Just as you were about to slip into a slumber, you heard the faintest clicking of the door to your apartment, and along with the unmistakable peal of Yeonmi’s laughter, it woke you up. Blinking rapidly, you forced yourself to leave the comfort of your linen sheets and get to your feet, rubbing your eyes in order to wake yourself up a little bit and grabbing the robe you hung behind your door to combat the slight chill that the midnight air possessed before making your way to the living room. 

You flicked the switch on as you walked into the room, squinting in discomfort at the sudden shift of lighting, lips parting in surprise.

There at the doorway stood an extremely giggly Yeonmi, the smile on her face looking like it had been tattooed on her lips, an arm placed against the wall to make sure she didn’t fall over, the other stuck in an attempt to take off one of her heels. When she failed and almost stumbled, another giggle left her, apparently unaware of the fact she was about to fall over.

Alarm rang through you as you took a panicked step forward, instinctively reaching out to try and catch her even though you weren’t close enough to do so. “Yeon-”

“I got you”

You froze as an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back to her previous position and steadying her, and while you were glad your roommate’s fate of faceplanting into the wooden flooring had been thwarted, it was the last thing on your mind.

The first was that voice.

You knew it like the back of your hand, and no matter long it had been, you would never forget it. Even if it had changed a little, a little deeper than it used to sound eight years ago, unfamiliar with the amount of time that had passed and yet so recognizable for you.

Faltering, you slowly shifted your line of sight up to catch a glimpse of the person, only for him to do the exact same thing, presumably as a response to you saying your roommate's name and it was like everything around you had paused just for this moment.

You knew those eyes.

Eyes that were currently filled with swirls of confusion and surprise, only to rapidly thaw into a horrified look of realisation, his arm around another girl that just happened to have been the very one you had to face every morning.

The world truly did have a cruel sense of humour. You stared back at him, unable to tear your vision away from him no matter what you did.

Lee Donghyuck, in the flesh after eight long years.

It was almost unsettling, how he looked the exact same he used to. Of course, there were differences, but they were all superficial in nature. His hair was cut slightly differently, no longer in the neater hairstyle he had kept as a teenager but a little longer at the back. He was wearing clothes you had never seen before, but that was to be expected, and he had his arm around someone that was decidedly not you.

But other than that, it was him. Those stupid, splendid eyes of his, those very features that had been burned into your memory and had stubbornly refused to leave no matter how hard you tried to evict them.

It felt as if someone was standing right on your chest, relentless in their approach and crushing your lungs, every pint of air inside it being zapped out as if it was never needed there in the first place.  You briefly entertained the idea of walking back into your room and staying there for the next ten years.

“Y/n!”

The spell cast upon the two of you had successfully been broken by your intoxicated roommate, who, in her state, had absolutely no perception of social cues at the moment, and certainly not of the thick tension that had descended upon your living room.  She broke out of his grasp, stumbling towards you without even a semblance of grace and threw her arms around your neck in a death grip of a hug, only succeeding in contributing towards your current breathing problems.

Taken aback by her rather abrupt display of affection, you awkwardly pat her back a couple of times, managing to choke out the words, “Thats me.” Your attempt at adding a jovial lilt to your voice royally failed because the only thing on your mind was something rather embarrassing.

It was how absolutely terrible you probably looked right then.

It was silly no doubt, for you to be pondering your appearance at that specific point in time. If you were morally a better person, perhaps you would have been thinking about how you were relieved that Yeonmi was safe, but the only thing you could think of was the fact that your hair most definitely looked like a nest and that you were dressed in a ratty old sweatshirt that you had owned since your freshman year of college and pyjama pants.

They had peppa pig on them. If not for the fact that they were the most comfortable thing you owned, you would have burned them after this.

“Oh, right,” she giggled when she pulled away and saw your eyes trained on the man she had brought with her, hands on your shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall, “This is Donghyuck!” 

You glanced at her and then back at him, trying desperately to swallow the lump in your throat. “Right.”

Right? You mentally cussed yourself out for that lacklustre response and cleared your throat in order to save yourself. “Nice to meet you.”

Maybe he didn’t realise you caught the split second of confusion that passed through his eyes, but you had, catching yourself before you winced out of mild guilt for putting him in such a difficult position. Nevertheless, he played along like he was in on the plan all along, straightening up and responding.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Two strangers by choice met again that night, heartstrings that had once been intertwined and subsequently torn apart to die out, reviving with just a simple glance and a few words. He looked at you and you looked at him, forgetting for a moment that the girl standing between the two of you was the biggest obstacle of them all.

And for just a moment there, you were sixteen.

Donghyuck left a few minutes later, once awkward goodbye’s had been exchanged and Yeonmi was safely in your care, sipping on a large glass of water in her bed. 

Being around him again, even if it had only been for a few meagre minutes, had completely shattered your self-composure. Your heart was beating too quickly, your adrenaline was on an all-time high and your ability to be discreet had evaded you entirely, resulting in times when you caught yourself looking at him a beat too long.

He seemed to be having the exact opposite reaction, barely even looking at you after the initial shock of it being you standing there wore off. His eyes seemed to be glued to your tipsy roommate, talking to her in a gentle tone as he bid her farewell and promised to message her the next day. 

The fact that he seemed so normal infuriated you a little bit. It shouldn’t have, you knew that very well, but you simply couldn’t understand how you were a certified mess while he seemed to be so composed, acting as if you weren’t even there. It was wholly childish to expect him to be stuck on you, but then again, you had suffered that very fate, so why couldn’t have he?

And so there you were, sitting on the edge of Yeonmi’s bed, wide awake as you watched her finish her water, just barely making out the emotion that had resurfaced within you- the green-eyed monster responsible for your churning stomach with every look at your friend.

Why?

Because the way he had taken care of her tonight was all too reminiscent of how he used to do the same for you.

“What do you think of him?”

Her words were only slightly slurred now, and you blinked, registering her question. She stared at you expectantly, eagerly awaiting your judgement over her date. 

“He’s nice.”

She frowned. “That’s it? Nice?”

You shut your eyes, desperately wishing you could skip over this question somehow, but when you opened them she was evidently still waiting for you to finish. You breathed in.

Now, what did you think of Lee Donghyuck?

You had thought Donghyuck was the most wonderful person you had ever met when you were a teenager, the one person who everything seemed so natural with. He was someone you thought was home, a best friend and a lover all rolled into one. But he had eyes that tortured you, a past interlaced so intricately with yours that lingered to this very day and connections to someone unbearably close to you in the present. 

Yeonmi placed her glass on her bedside table and sighed contentedly. “I really like him, Y/n.” 

You hadn’t heard her say something like that about a guy since her last relationship, and she had the same simper on her face that she did back then too. There was no way you could bring yourself to even think about attempting to ruin that.

You breathed out.

“I think he’s great,” you started, fingers curling around her cotton bedsheets and squeezing, doing your utmost best to keep your voice level. “He was really good with you tonight.”

The bitter irony of it all hit you, how the guy that let Yeonmi finally move on was the very same that made it impossible for you to do so. Her smile widened while your stomach grew heavier, dragging you down as you walked to your own room later that night, your dreams tainted with images of a boy you once loved and a stranger who looked the same.

iv] then.

Being sick did not suit you.

To say that you were miserable was an understatement. If one had to accurately describe what the situation felt like to you, they would have to include a bit about you feeling as if you were losing your mind. You did not appreciate the light-headedness that you experienced everything you stood up, or the throbbing head and blocked nose.

You definitely didn’t like being stuck in your bed practically all day. 

Slumped against your pillow and underneath your sheets, you sighed for what must have been the twentieth time that minute. At first, you had no problem with being able to skip a day of school, thinking that you would have a relaxing day of rest. This, of course, included catching up and binge-watching all your favourite shows and taking a well-deserved nap to catch up on sleep that your chemistry teacher had stolen from you via the dozens of assignments she gave out every week. 

Your glorious plans came to a stark halt when your mother decided that you needed to rest your eyes to get better, which meant that you had been forbidden even thinking about opening your laptop or staring at your phone for too long. This had left you to your own devices, and once you had slept for two hours, the ability to do so seemed to disappear.

Staring at the ceiling grew old pretty quickly.

The soft creaking of the door to your room had you quickly drop your phone and haphazardly push it underneath the blanket, plastering on the most innocent look you could as you stared expectantly, waiting for your mother to come into your view. She did, a glimmer of satisfaction appearing in her eyes at the sight of you without any electronics around you.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” Your answer elicited a smile from her, and she continued, unaware of how you had disobeyed her orders and hidden the evidence.

“Great, because you have a guest.” She opened your door further to reveal your guest and there stood Donghyuck, his school bag slung over his shoulder as he looked into your room, offering you a smile and a small wave.

You stared back at him, relief and mild horror washing through you at the same time somehow, wholly displeased at the fact that he was looking at you while you barely resembled a human being. The Kleenex visible at the end of your bed did nothing to soothe your embarrassment. The relief stemmed from the fact that perhaps the only reason you had not been too pleased about missing a day of school was that you wouldn’t see Donghyuck.

Well, at least that was sorted.

“Sakura told me you were sick,” he explained as your mother left, walking into your room and looking around. Suddenly, you were ever so slightly embarrassed by the pictures you had stuck up on your wall in the fifth grade, knowing that you were smiling a toothy grin in each and every one of them. While you hoped he wouldn’t stare at them too intently, you noticed the small brown paper bag he was holding.

Seeing the raise of your eyebrow, he grabbed the chair next to your desk and dragged it towards your bed, sitting down and keeping the bag on your bedside table. “So I got you something to cheer you up.”

Your curiosity was piqued by that, and you sat up straighter, eyeing the bag even more intently now. Donghyuck bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too hard because of how adorable you were, your nose and cheeks tinged due to whatever sickness you had been afflicted with, but your eyes were still lively. Deciding to put you out of your misery, he took out the contents from the bag, carefully watching for your reaction.

And you did disappoint in the slightest, the sides of your mouth curling upwards in joy at the fact that he had gotten you your favourite doughnut and drink. The fact that he remembered it exactly made you grin the same grin you had plastered on your walls, taking the food from him and watching as he brought out his own favourite combination.

“I fucking love you,” you declared, overjoyed at having something with actual flavour to eat that day, before realising the words that had left your lips. Quickly, you took a bite out of the doughnut to cover it up and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. And it shouldn’t have been because friends said those three words to each other all the time. It was normal.

Right?

Of course, most friends did not feel their hearts beating rapidly every time the other person was near. 

Donghyuck caught what you said, and for a moment it felt as if there was a lump in his throat. It wasn’t a new feeling when it came to you, the hesitancy to say something came and went as did his nerves around you. Swallowing heavily, he forced out, “Oh so you love me when I get you food. Got it.”

The teasing tone of his voice helped you relax, but if you had glanced at his face you would have realised it didn’t match his expression, which was just as tense as you were due to your slight slip-up. He couldn’t help but hope there was a hint of genuine truth in the statement.

“Shut the fuck up.”

And with that, the tension dissipated. He took a bite out of his donut and you took a sip of your drink. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward by any means, but you felt the need to fill it anyway. 

“It’s not just because you bought me food, okay?” You began earnestly. “You’ve also always been there for me. I appreciate that more than you know.” Then you paused, but not for long, adding to your previous statements, “But doughnuts definitely don’t hurt, so you’ve made a sick girl very happy. Thank you.”

When you finished, you found him looking at you with an inexplicable look on his visage. The softness to his gaze had a flush rapidly rise up your neck, the simper playing on his lips laced with a hint of mirth. It was then you realised you had said a lot of nothing to him in the span of five minutes, igniting embarrassment to bubble up inside of you.

God, you would never understand how he managed to do this to you without doing anything at all. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m rambling. My dad says it’s a bad habit I need to get rid of.”

You mentally chastised yourself. There you were once again, giving him even more information he definitely didn’t ask for. In fact, in the past ten minutes, Donghyuck hadn’t said a word, it had just been you speaking. Burying under your covers to hide yourself was the first thing you wanted to do, but that would have made you look like even more of an idiot.

Why did you care so much about what he thought? The two of you were friends, he was probably closer to you than your other friends you had known since the first grade, and yet you were so deathly scared of somehow weirding him out or saying something wrong. 

If only you knew what was going through his mind at that second, the sheer fondness for you that had taken over his every thought. The amount of affection he held for you was something he had never felt for anyone else before and due to that, he often forced himself to not think too much about it.

Most people had their first crushes at younger ages, but not Donghyuck. At first, he thought that he was weird, but then attributed his apparent lack of feelings to not staying long enough in one place to get attached to anyone.

Then he met you, and your existence itself rebuked that entire theory. He had only known you for a little over three months, and although this was the first time he had ever thought about someone like this, he wasn’t confused in the slightest. It was never about being able to stick around for enough time, it was just that none of them were you.

“You could talk for hours and I’d never get bored.”

The silence hanging over both of your heads was broken with that singular statement of his, melting away your nerves and replacing them with a pesky, fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach. You blinked, processing what he had said and wondered if the butterflies in your stomach were a result of the seemingly noncommittal comment or nausea from your sickness. 

You had been a talkative person all your life, often getting into mild trouble at school for not being able to shut up. You had been told to quiet down or that your voice was too loud so many times that you had lost count, and something you had grown increasingly afraid of was accidentally boring someone by being too obnoxious on accident, leading to you apologising every time you realised what you were doing.

But not one person had ever said something so lovely to you. Never had they managed to completely dissolve that insecurity with just a few words.

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out in response. The butterflies seemed to increase in regards to the size of their swarm. He grinned.

“Somehow that made you shut up though.”

Rolling your eyes, you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling as hard as you wanted to. “Fuck off Donghyuck,” you puffed out your cheeks slightly. “You’re so lame.”

“Oh, so you want me to leave?” He got to his feet as if challenging you, and you snapped your head back, shaking it vigorously. If you had taken notice of the coy nature of his voice, you made no motion to show it.

“No, please don’t leave me. I've been sitting here alone all day. I’m this close to going insane.” You pinched your index finger and thumb together, pursing your lips in an indignant pout to put your point across effectively. This elicited a laugh from the boy, who promptly sat back down at your request, scooting even closer than before. 

And you resumed your conversation, talking late into that evening. He filled you in on the happenings of the day at school (which was followed by your complaints about how everything fun happened only on the days you were absent somehow) and you finished your doughnuts, stealing a few bites from his as well. You bickered and laughed at his stupid jokes, going off once again into one of your famous tangents with him patiently sitting through them. Your other friends hadn’t shown up to check on you, but he had, and that was enough for you.

All you did was talk, but somehow he made you feel better by just listening.

Libraries were, in your eyes at least, magical spaces where time itself seemed to take a pause while you sat within them. The atmosphere of your local one that you visited often was unmatched, whether you were there to borrow books or to sit and study for a test. 

This particular library was absolutely gorgeous, with older design choices and architecture that gave it a more regal feel, something right out of Dead Poets Society. You could spend entire days there being productive, and every time you visited, you always left with a smile. 

The librarian was also extremely sweet and knew you by name, but that was to be expected considering you had been going there since you were ten years old. You walked in, giving her a polite wave and smile as you found your seat, settling in and arranging your study material. You were determined to tackle a particularly arduous unit of economics today in preparation for a class test you had coming up.

Your seat was towards the back of the library, next to one of the large arching windows and the optimal distance away from a fan in a corner. It was cosy enough to keep you focused on whatever you were doing that day while also giving you the best view of the library in its entirety, making it your go-to spot. 

It was due to this splendid view that you saw a certain Lee Donghyuck walk in.

He stopped in the middle, those eyes of his scanning the large room until they fell upon you. They lit up- something you could see happen even from the distance away you were and he began making his way towards your spot. 

Oh, dear. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting any work done after all.

Donghyuck slid into the seat right opposite you, and you nodded in acknowledgment, looking back at the screen of your laptop. He looked at you for a moment before opening the book he had gotten with him.

And now for some reason, even though you were in the most optimal spot in the library that always produced productivity from you, your attention was directed away from your work and towards the beguiling boy across from you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about him not glancing at you at all right then, or why you were so perturbed by it. 

Shaking it off, you once again turned your attention to the wonders of Alfred Marshall. Your method of memorisation was taking notes, or rather, scribbling down whatever was on the slides your teacher had put together and hoping for the best.

And it was then you heard the distinct slapping of a shutting book. “I’m bored.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to curb the smile that always seemed to make a show around Donghyuck, and raised an eyebrow in question.

In a whisper, he continued, “This book fucking sucks. I gave it a chance because Seulgi insisted I had to read it, but I really can’t get through a page without wanting to take a nap.” The droll look on his face almost made you laugh. “Do you happen to know where it belongs? I haven’t quite figured out the library yet.”

You nodded, getting to your feet and cocking your head to signal him to do the same. He fell into step with you as you led him to the fiction section in the back, and making sure to keep your voice low, you asked, “Seulgi has been talking to you a lot lately, hasn’t she?”

Every syllable of your sentence had been laced with forced nonchalance, and you didn’t dare look at him even once, turning into where you guessed the book would have belonged. He hummed lightly, following you dutifully.

“I guess so.”

Kang Seulgi was one of the more popular girls in your grade, well known for being in the cheerleading team. You hadn’t interacted with her very much, but from the few times your paths had crossed, she had always been very polite, leaving you with the impression that she was a sweet person. To tell the truth, Donghyuck was also talked about quite a bit, but you weren’t surprised about that in the slightest. He was a sight to behold, even if he didn’t know it himself.

So naturally, Seulgi had introduced herself to him and had begun to talk to him a lot more. You remembered when he told you she had sent him a follow request and then slid into his DM's, and him asking you to help him with how to respond since he had essentially nothing in common with the girl.

Now look, it wasn’t as if you were jealous or anything, truly, there was nothing for you to be jealous over anyway considering there wasn’t anything between you and Donghyuck. He was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted and take their stupid little literary recommendations.

Okay, so maybe you were a little jealous, but you really shouldn’t have been. You knew you were his closest friend, but maybe you were jealous because while you were his friend, Seulgi had approached him with intentions that were very obviously the opposite of an innocent friendship.

“Fun,” you muttered under your breath, successfully failing your own unbothered claims, stopping in front of a shelf and holding your hand out. “Book.”

He handed you the book, immediately noticing the shift in your mood, even if it was only slight. You glanced at the cover and frowned, pushing it in the gap in between all the books and staring intently at the other title,  evidently looking for another one you had just thought he would enjoy, before realising it was sitting on one of the higher shelves in mild dismay. 

The silence bothered him a little. “It really is an ass book.”

Now, although this made you feel a little better, the feeling of slight stupidity that came along with it cancelled it out.  The book you wanted to give him was just out of your reach, but you were much too proud to ask for his help after replying so curtly to him when it wasn’t necessary.

So you went onto your tiptoes, reaching out your hand in an attempt to get said book down, only for your fingers to barely brush against the wood of the shelf. This resulted in you almost stumbling a little, letting out a soft sound of frustration.

Donghyuck watched you in amusement, watching you try once again and still failing. 

“Need some help there?”

“Nope,” you said a little too quickly, jumping a little now and just about touching the book’s spine. 

He snickered to himself and moved until he was right behind you, easily finding the book and slipping it out of the shelf, making a point to hold it entirely out of your reach and asking languidly. “Are you sure about that?” 

Donghyuck knew he had bested you. He was toying with that fact, enjoying having you in the palm of his hands to play with- but not in a malicious way. 

You looked up at him, taking note of the way he was looking back at you. You took note of the triumphant look in his eyes, filled with amusement at your current struggle. That very amusement laced his lips as well, shaping them into an infuriating little smirk that had you catching your breath.

And subtlety had never been your strong suit, and it wasn’t about to start being so, much to your misfortune. Your eyes were trained to his lips, and this time, Donghyuck noticed.

He also noticed the minimal space between the two of you, and how if he just leaned forward ever so slightly…

It came to his attention right then and there, in the back of that library against the mahogany shelves, that he wanted to kiss you.

The thought had crossed the periphery of his mind before- the first time it did had taken him by abrupt surprise, seeing that he had never wished to kiss someone before. With you, the urge grew a little every day, and right then it was stronger than the last time. He was sixteen without the experience of his first kiss, and he had never thought too much about it before considering it was never in his list of priorities, but with you around? God.

And he had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking of it too.

You were practically trapped in his embrace at that very point, pressed up slightly against the books as you stood there, your breathing going shallow in anticipation. It was questionable, just how easily he had disarmed you without even doing anything, and there you were, decidedly losing your cool for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was so close by. What was it again that he had asked you?

Oh right.

“I’m sure,” your voice came out small-sounding and meek, averting your eyes away from his face and down to your feet, gazing intently at the stitching of your shoes. “You can keep that. I was trying to get it down for you anyway.”

The spell was broken when he took a step away from you, clearing his throat in order to cut through the heavy air that had settled in between the two of you. He brought his hand down and studied the cover of the book, raising an eyebrow in question. “Why?”

“Because it’s infinitely more interesting than whatever the fuck Seulgi made you read.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, this time definitely noticing the hostile tone that came with your uttering of the girls' name. As hard as you had tried to exude indifference to the matter of the book, you had miserably failed, this being proved by your incessant need to one-up her literary recommendation. 

But he thought it was endearing, and flipped the book over, skimming the excerpt at the back. You waited patiently for his verdict, alternating between looking at him and to your side, peering out the window. 

“Okay,” He murmured, “I trust you enough to give it a shot.” 

Pleased with this, you nodded and began making your way back to your table. It shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did, seeing that he had also seemingly trusted Seulgi enough to try the book she had mentioned, but that didn’t really matter to you.

The two of you settled back down in your seats, and he opened the book up. You scoffed slightly at his newly acquired focused state, resuming your previous work now that he was occupied. Perhaps you’d be able to focus now.

Though you knew, with him around, that would never be the case.

v] now.

“Do we really need these many snacks?”

Yeonmi waved her hand in your general direction to invalidate your question, adjusting one of the bowls that contained popcorn on the small table in the middle of your living room to accommodate the one with gummy bears. 

“You can never have too many snacks,” she reasoned with you, stepping back and admiring her work. There on the table sat a selection of candy and salty-snacks, a cornucopia of unhealthy that was at the level of enjoyable. “Besides, it’s the first official time Donghyuck is coming over- any minute now, might I add- and I want it to be perfect.” 

Oh right. You swallowed to avoid any sort of reaction making itself known, walking over and inspecting all that she had gotten. Gummy bears, popcorn, mini pretzels, chips- it was leaning towards being stronger on the salty side of things. “Are you sure you want me to stay? I can always sleep over at Chaewon’s.”

Much to your dismay, Yeonmi shook her head, shutting down your offer.

“It’s fine, I want you to be around. He’s going to have to get used to you being around anyway, and I would love it if you guys ended up being friends.” Her words pricked your skin, and unaware of this fact she continued on. “I have a feeling that you would really get along.”

If only she knew. You forced a smile.

“Oh, I think we should have another flavour of popcorn. Cheese?” She turned to face you, expectantly waiting on your answer. You hummed, shaking your head.

“Caramel.” Donghyuck had always gravitated towards sweets, so you knew he would enjoy that better. Yeonmi rushed into the kitchen to arrange for said popcorn, and you sat down on the couch, staring at the blank television screen in slight retirement, wondering how life had managed to corner you into such a situation.

Ever since the day he dropped your roommate home in her drunken state, you often thought about that bitter reunion between the two of you, cringing every time at the recollection of your decision to pretend that he was a stranger. You recalled the confusion stirring in those still-starry eyes of his, before it melted into a silent understanding between the two of you. 

At sixteen you had sworn he had to be your soulmate. At twenty-four, you were forced strangers.

Yeonmi returned to the room with another bowl just as your doorbell rang, and you straightened up in your seat, mild panic taking over your system. Before she could even ask you to get the door, you escaped the living room, your feet carrying you quickly to the kitchen and further away from the door, where he inevitably stood.

Leaning against the counter, you let out a troubled sigh. You had no idea how you were going to survive the night without losing your mind in some respect, and you also had no idea how you were going to explain your bolting to your friend without some sort of excuse. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a bowl and began looking for something to fill it with, before coming across a packet of Sour Patch Kids.

You stared at the candy, slowly tearing open the packet and tossing some of it into the bowl. When you were younger, Donghyuck had always had a pack in his school bag, whipping it out at random occasions to snack on. It was his favourite candy back then, and although you’re not sure if he was still fond of it, it was still worth a shot bringing it out there.

Clipping it shut, you toss the packet back into the cupboard and steel yourself to face him once again. 

Donghyuck stared at the screen of his phone, processing the time displayed on his lockscreen. 8:30 pm. He glanced up at the sky, taking note of the stars that decorated it in splashes, before walking into your building, calling for the elevator with a press of a button.

Truly, he knew that he was a bit of an asshole, and he had self imposed this title for a plethora of reasons. He had been dating Yeonmi for a while now, and although there were no labels to their relationship, he knew it was nearing the time where they talked about plastering on said labels, something he had been now infinitely put off by. From the moment he saw you, it was clear that going any further with the girl would be absolutely fruitless.

So he should have called things off with her, and yet here he was, walking into the elevator and signalling for your floor. When she had asked him to come over for a movie night, everything inside of him had been screaming at him to simply end it then to avoid complicating things any further, but on the outside he found himself agreeing, regretfully.

That was asshole strike number two. The first strike was committed eight years ago.

Running his fingers through his hair, he used his blurry reflection in the walls of the elevator to fix up his appearance. He donned a pair of light-wash jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt today, opting to be comfy in an attempt to soothe his enervated mental state. 

Reaching your floor, he walked down the hallway and stood outside the door, sucking in a deep breath. Yeonmi had mentioned that since this was a casual affair, you would most probably be present as well, and that information had admittedly stressed him out even more than he already was.

You being her roommate suddenly made a lot of sense in regards to all those mannerisms that she possessed that reminded him of you. Living with you must have had your habits rub off on her, resulting in all the intense deja vu he had been experiencing these past few weeks. At first, he thought it was simply what it felt to fall for someone, considering he had only ever experienced it with you, but now he knew better.

The reason he had let this go on was because of how much she reminded him of you. It was like he still had you after all these years, even if it wasn’t nearly enough. 

He rang the doorbell and waited.

Yeonmi answered, her elated smile at his presence spurring some guilt from his end. After a hug, she welcomed him inside, ushering him into the living room of your shared apartment and explaining the set up of snacks and blankets that she had laid out on the couch. It was clear that she had put a lot of thought into the evening, and he gave her one of those dazzling smiles of his in acknowledgement.

She sat down in the middle of the couch, and he followed suit, taking one of the ends as she switched the television on, starting the movie. Donghyuck glanced around the room as tactfully as possible, noticing you weren’t present.

And that's when you walked in, grasping a dark blue bowl in your hands, answering his silent question of your whereabouts before he could even ask it. 

Part of him still saw the sixteen-year-old girl he had known all those years ago, the same hair and pensive expression painting your features that he had decidedly memorised. Once you had caught sight of him, you stopped in place and stared for a beat too long, looking from him to the table before him and then down at the bowl you held.  

Yeonmi turned around and the sound of your soft, padded footsteps, and cocked her head to the side in mild confusion. “Did you get something else?”

“Yeah,” your voice cut through his self-induced trance sharply, terse and quick, you switched the lights off, leaving the light from the TV as the only source of it throughout the room, and walked over and sat on the other side of the girl, grabbing a couple of the items contained in the bowl before handing it over. “I thought this would be a good addition.”

He peered over, eyes widening ever so slightly when he recognized the candy to be Sour Patch Kids that you were now slowly munching on. Yeonmi offered him some, and he slowly took it, trying his level best to not look at you in silent question at the choice of it. 

It seemed intentional, but that could have just been him overthinking it. By the looks of your eagerness to pretend he was a stranger to you, you probably didn’t even remember his emotional attachment to it when you were teenagers. The thought of that saddened him a little, especially when he thought back to the times you would always get him some every time you’d pass by a general store, or when he discovered you had an entire stash in the little drawer of your bedside table, ready for him every time he’d come over. The memory should have brought a smile to his face as he picked up one of the red candies.

The situation he found himself in was entirely ludicrous, sitting by a woman he had been dating for a short period of time and another who had everything to do with him in the past, but seemingly wanted nothing to do with him at present. 

But he really couldn’t blame you for that. 

Your behaviour towards him was more than justified, and if you hated him- well, he wouldn’t be surprised, or even blame you a little bit. No one deserved to be treated the way he had treated you, especially by someone who claimed to love you. 

One and a half movies in, Yeonmi seemed to have dozed off. It was around eleven p.m., the snacks were almost all the snack bowls had been emptied- save for the pretzels, and he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the television screen anymore, wholly uninterested in whatever was happening there. Instead, his gaze drifted towards your rigid figure, a little more visible now that the girl sitting between the two of you had slouched down a little due to her sleeping state. 

The light from the television gently cradled your features, illuminating your side profile in a ghostly manner that made it difficult for him to tear his eyes away from you. That was the excuse he used to justify his mildly intense staring at that moment in time because the truth was that no matter the situation, he had never been great at looking away from you.

You must have felt the weight of his imminent stare, because you swiftly turned your head to face him, eyes locking with his almost instantaneously.  The air around him stilled, he was afraid to move, as if doing so would break something- or perhaps himself. He couldn’t bear to think about doing that once more, wanting to protect you and himself from that outcome. 

But playing it safe would only get him so far.

“Y/n.” 

Your name made it out of his mouth just slightly louder than a whisper, but it had you breaking eye contact, a breath escaping you as if you had been holding it in, eyelids fluttering shut. This was the first time he had uttered your name in what seemed like forever, but he had never forgotten how to sound it out, holding it out to the wind like some sort of peace offering. Every syllable of your name was precious to him, ingrained into his memory and locked there, incapable of even the thought of escape.

“Donghyuck.”

You weren’t even facing him anymore, vision cast down to your floorboards as you responded with his name in that melodic cadence of yours, although it was currently laced with brevity. The guarded nature of your utterance did not go unnoticed either, he knew you too well to not catch onto these things, even if it had been a while. 

“I…I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted, lifting a hand up and running it through his hair- an anxious habit he had retained from his teen years. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you shifted in your seat out of discomfort at the situation at hand, glancing at your fast-asleep roommate.

“She owes me so much for this shit.” Your words were completely unexpected, but it almost brought a smile to his face to know that your way of speaking hadn’t changed much either. No matter how much time passed, the little constants of life kept him grounded- but with you it only had his head in the clouds. Finally, you spoke directly to him, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Donghyuck paused, caught a little off guard. He couldn’t have disagreed with that more, the amount of things left unsaid between the two of you was the cause of the stinging tension hanging in the air, something he was desperate to attempt to dissipate. It was unnatural, all his memories with you involved everything being exceedingly easy, this was a striking difference to what he was used to. 

It was his own fault. You held his stare, and it took him back to the first time he met you, when your ability to do the same was non existent. He recollected the nervous energy that radiated off of you the first time he ever spoke to you, the way your eyes would never stay focused at his for more than a few minutes. He had found it rather adorable. 

That day was a bad one for him, and he remembered it in perfect clarity. In classic teenage angst, he was pissed off at the world for the cards he had been dealt, those being another new town and another first day at a new school. More importantly, he was even angrier at the person who had put him in such a situation once again- his mother, of course. He had barely spoken to her before leaving the house that morning, ignoring her meek attempts at trying to hold out an olive branch. She had made him his favourite breakfast to console him, a silent apology of sorts, but he hadn’t commented on it at all.

He had been through the routine so many times that he was tired and so he kept to himself, ears plugged with his headphones at the back of every classroom he found himself in. There wasn’t an ounce of effort to mingle with the other students from his end, his annoyances and temper getting the best of him. 

And then he felt you looking at him in one of his classes, looking at you right when you had been called out for doing so. A few minutes later, your eyes wandered right back to him, surprise and embarrassment igniting in them when you realised you had been caught. He approached you afterwards, and the interaction that followed left him with a ghost of a smile on his face despite his sour mood. 

He wasn’t sure why he had decided to approach you that day. There had been others who had tried to speak to him, others that he had blown off with tight-lipped, polite responses that hinted at him being wholly uninterested, but there was just something about you that drew him in so effortlessly. It had been easy with you from the very beginning.

Which was exactly why he needed to fix whatever was happening right now, at the present. “I think we need to talk.”

You shut your eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was out of weariness or frustration. 

“No, we really don’t.” There was a tinge of denial embedded in your words, if not outright refusal. 

“Yes, we do,” he gave you a mildly pointed look, trying to break through the wall you had built around yourself and open your eyes to the need to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. “You know we do-”

“I don’t.”

You cut him off before he could even finish what he had to say, the finality in your tone stopping him in his tracks. The way you snapped at him told him all he needed to know: that you had no intention or desire to continue this conversation. Even so, he would have maybe pressed a little more if not for the slight tremor that accompanied intonation. 

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, knowing that he didn’t have the right to insist. A stifling silence settled between the two of you, unbroken for a few seconds too long as he sat there, stunned by your minute outburst and thus, as a result, speechless. He couldn’t think of an instance when you had ever reacted like that to him, and the realisation grounded him. 

He swallowed, the dryness of his throat making the action hurt a little. “I should leave.” He spoke up, slowly getting to his feet to avoid waking up the sleeping girl next to him, “Tell Yeonmi I said thank you for tonight and…and that I had to leave because I have an early morning tomorrow.”

You nodded wordlessly. 

The lack of anything from your end was unnatural for him, you had never been one to not talk. It had been one of his favourite things about you. 

“And…I’m sorry.” 

And with that, he left you there on your couch with the very words that had haunted you for what felt like all your life.

vi] then.

Zhong Chenle was one half of your two best friends, the other being Sakura Miyawaki, and the only male hair to his family's multimillion-dollar company. Although he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and everyone had his beck and call, he was surprisingly down-to-earth for someone who grew up with that much privilege. Even with all the wealth that his parents had still put him in public highschool, which you supposed said a lot about how he was raised. You had met him for the first time in the fourth grade when you had been paired up with the ever-smiling boy during P.E. 

Everyone in town knew where he lived and it was because it was the only mansion in the town, and saying that it was in town was a little bit of a stretch as well. It was situated towards the outskirts, but travelling was never a problem for him considering he had a driver appointed to take him wherever he pleased whenever he requested him to do so in one of the four cars sitting pretty in his garage.

You had been to his mansion several times over the seven years you had known the boy, and it never failed to leave you awestruck. The garden outside was enough to have your jaw drop, and the inside wasn’t any different with pristine white walls and marbled floors that were tastefully decorated. When you learned that he also had a pool, you seriously considered asking to be adopted.

It was due to this very fact that Chenle took advantage of every time his parents were out of town on some sort of business trip, having you and Sakura, along with his cousin Renjun, stay the night. 

This time, however, was different. This time, Chenle was throwing a party.

His parents were gone for five days, and this conveniently happened to line up with the weekend, resulting in the perfect opportunity. He had never thrown a party before, but they had been happening a lot more frequently now that you were in the eleventh grade, and he wanted to dabble in the fun, insisting that all three of you needed more of that in your lives. 

So you told your parents you were going to stay over at Chenle’s place for the weekend, throwing some clothes and other items that you would need into a bag and let your hair loose, hoping that it would conceal the makeup you had done for the party. When you heard the horn of Sakura's car blare at eight p.m sharp just as she promised, you bid them a rushed farewell and left your house, mild excitement admittedly drumming through your veins. 

You walked over to her car, raising an eyebrow at Chenle’s presence in the backseat. The party had technically started by now, but since you had to get ready and finish all your homework for the week before you were allowed to leave, Sakura had agreed to pick you up and go with you.

This also meant that the host was supposed to be there instead of here, a host that beckoned you to sit next to him. You obliged, tossing your bag in first before sliding into the seat beside him and asking, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to pick you up,” he answered gleefully as Sakura began to drive away, smiling in a mixture of amusement and annoyance back at the two of you. His voice was a little jittery, and once Sakura turned into a new lane, he brought out the flask that he had presumably been hiding underneath the seat until it was safe. “Drink up.”

“This fucker showed up to my house,” your driver friend filled you in, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Thankfully, he still had the sense to call instead of ringing the doorbell. Can you even imagine the lecture I would have gotten if my parents saw him in this state?”

“You’re tipsy,” you concluded aloud, earning a lazy smile from the boy accompanied by finger guns on his free hand. You took the flask from him and unscrewed the top, cautiously smelling the top to ascertain the contents within, before holding it to your lips and taking a swig. 

The pure alcohol hit your throat immediately, stinging it and having your features twist into a frown, but you managed to swallow it all, subsequently coughing. 

“Oops,” Chenle muttered, “Forgot to tell you it's neat. There's nothing but whiskey in there.”

“A warning would have been nice, yeah.” Your neck felt warm. “Why are we already drinking?”

“It’s called pregaming Y/n, keep up. Be grateful since ‘Kura has to wait until we reach to partake in the fun. For us lucky folks, it starts now.” He ended this with a cheeky wink, his words were a little slurred, and you could smell the hint of whatever he had been consuming before. You briefly wondered how Sakura was going to get rid of the smell before she went home. 

“I believe what you mean to say is thank you,” comes from the front of the car, laced with sass. 

This was by no means your first time drinking with the two, since all the sleepovers at his place had consisted of stealing his parents liquor and drinking it in his room, but you didn’t partake in the act very often, and this was your first official party. You took another sip, this time a little more gracefully than the last. 

“You’re the host of the party, Chenle, you’re supposed to be there. You didn’t have to come pick me up.” To this, he huffed, waving a hand in your face as if he was shaking out the truth in your statement. 

“Yeah but you’re more important, so who cares?” 

You grinned, now knowing that he was definitely a little out of it due to the drinking. He had the habit of going all sweet and mushy on the two of you when he had a little too much in his system. 

“As much as I appreciate that,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “Isn’t that a bad idea, like, who is in charge back there? Won’t it be a mess?”

“Messes are inevitable when it comes to this, it’ll be fine,” He assured you as Sakura switched the radio on. “But if you must know, I left Donghyuck in charge to make sure no one dies before we get there.” 

You decided to not point out the underlying implication of people dying after you arrived, perking up a little at the mention of your- er- close friend. “Oh he’s already there?”

“Yeah, your little boyfriend was downing a mixture of rum and coke last I saw him.” Chenle’s words elicit an immediate reaction from you, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shook your head stubbornly. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Sakura snickered from behind the steering wheel at your defensiveness, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “Keep telling yourself that, honey.”

“He’s not,” you insisted, cheeks feeling hot from the teasing your friends were subjecting you to blaming it on the contents of the flask you held. Half of the booze was still left, and so you continued to consume it slowly, adding, “We’re friends.”

Even you had to admit that you didn’t sound convincing at all. “Sure.”

You downed the rest of the whiskey.

“Where’s your outfit?” Sakura asked once they were done tormenting you. She was already wearing hers, a dark blue sleeveless dress that cut off a little above her mid-thigh, accentuating everything she wanted it to perfectly, paired with silver jewellery and heels. Like you, she had gotten a bag of clothes for the night stay as well. 

Grateful for the change in topic, you unzipped the front of the hoodie you had on, revealing the top of your dress, the bottom part of which you had tucked into your sweatpants to hide it from your parents. “I’m wearing it underneath.” You tossed your hoodie to the side as you clarified, closing the top of the flask and handing it back to your friend to keep. “I’ll fix up there.”

“I’ll help.” You smiled gratefully at this offer of hers, nodding as you brought out your phone, attempting to neaten up your hair. Your enthusiasm was building by the second as Chenle babbled on about something inconsequential, arguing with the remaining two of you as usual.

About twenty minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway, and you had to do a double take to recognize the place. People you recognized faintly were walking around the gardens, holding red solo cups and talking, their chatter and laughter blending in with the music that came from inside the house- giving you an idea of how chaotic it must have been inside. 

Grabbing your bags, the three of you made your way to the front door that was half-open, something that definitely should have been a concern, but none of you comprehended that, your teenage brains ready to let loose and have fun. You barely heard Sakura's declaration to get wasted over the cacophony inside, pushing through the crowd to get to the staircase. 

“Holy shit, seniors are here too,” Chenle said triumphantly, pleased at having achieved their presence at his first ever party. “That’s sick, I’m going to go try talking to Taeil hyung.” 

With that, he disappeared, leaving you and your best friend to make the journey to the top floor alone. The chances of anyone being up there were minimal, and you were going to use the private bathroom in his room anyway, so it all worked out in your favour. 

Walking into said bathroom, you placed your bag on the counter and slipped your sweatpants off your legs, adjusting the bottom of your short, black dress. Sakura whistled in approval at your look after helping touch up your eyeliner, and you inspected your reflection in the large, fancy mirror, pleased with what was staring back at you. The dress had a certain subtle shimmer to it, but only when the light hit it at just the right angle, and your makeup brought out the best in your features, making you feel extremely pretty. 

Perfect. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” you declared, leaving your bags in the bathroom and proceeding to make your way back downstairs once you put on your heels, rejoining the pandemonium you had been so looking forward to the entire week. 

The music was so loud that you were sure you were going to lose your hearing in at least one of your ears, feeling the bass in your stomach and head as well- actually, scratch that, the mild buzzing in your head was definitely due to the alcohol you had consumed before finally hitting your system.  

This was going to be fun.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you informed Sakura, but her eyes were following someone else- Nakamoto Yuta, you realised, one of the star footballers on the team. Smirking, you gave her an encouraging pat on the back before navigating to the kitchen, almost getting lost due to the difference in how the house looked. You were used to the bright white walls and perfect interiors, the contrast of the dark lighting and cups strewn everywhere throwing you off a little. 

Finally, you emerged into the kitchen, which was a little more deserted then the rest of the mansion. You stopped in your tracks.

Because behind the kitchen island and leaning against one of the counters was none other than Lee Donghyuck. 

Glass in hand, he looked even more elusive than he already was in this light. A black shirt hung effortlessly from his shoulders, the first few buttons left open with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Jeans and a silver chain sitting around his neck, part of you was almost offended at how good he looked at that moment. 

He seemed at ease, as if he was unaware of the lawless nature of the party, taking a sip of whatever drink he had poured for himself. He looked in your direction after a few seconds, as if he had felt your stare and raised his glass up in acknowledgement, the simper that appeared on his face telling you he was pleased you had finally arrived. This broke the spell you had been under, and you walked around the island into his full view, grabbing one of the plastic cups.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his eyes drag over your figure from tip to bottom and making you feel a little self conscious. You mentally chastised yourself- mere minutes ago you had been feeling extremely confident, and now that state of mind relied on his judgement, but only his. 

Donghyuck had to force himself to look at your face again, one that was very obviously awaiting his judgement, it was just too easy to read your expressions. He was taken aback by how different you looked right then. A good, no, great different even. You were beautiful, he knew this very well by now, but he had never seen you quite this dressed up, and my god did you do justice to your look. 

“You look amazing,” he commented languidly, and just like that, you were back on cloud nine. 

Feminism had said goodbye the moment you had set eyes on him, clearly. 

“So do you.” That was the understatement of the century. You almost wished you could agree to all of Sakura and Chenle’s teasing and say that he was your boyfriend, because you sure as hell didn’t want anyone else hanging off his arm right then. You glanced at the line up of bottles against the wall, a sound of disbelief leaving you. “Fuck, Chenle really went all out, huh?”

There was possibly every type of alcohol you could ever want sitting there, just waiting to be consumed. Donghyuck chuckled, the low sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

“That he did. Here for a drink, I assume?” 

You nodded. “Something a little light on the alcohol taste though, Chenle had me have whiskey neat and I need a break from anything too intense.”

He hummed in consideration of this, taking your glass. “Got you. Be ready for the greatest drink of your life.” You rolled your eyes, but waited in anticipation nonetheless as he grabbed one of the bottles, pouring about two shots into it before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle and some ice, pouring the contents into your cup and gently tapping it on the counter to help mix it all. 

“It’s peach ice tea and vodka,” he informed you as he handed it over, eagerly waiting for you to take a sip and assess the taste of his creation. “I’ve mixed it perfectly, so it should give you a kick without being too overpowering.” It was just as he said, the peach tea flavour being much more palatable to your taste buds, and you thanked him with a smile. 

“What are you drinking?”

“Uhh…..rum I think. Yeah, it’s still rum,” he eyed his drink, before finishing the rest of it like a shot. “It���s the good, expensive shit, I’ve had around five of these- wait, no- six.”

You giggled, sipping tentatively at your drink and admiring Donghyuck, the pleasant buzz in your head growing stronger. A song you liked came on, the melody beckoning you towards the main area of the party with every beat that played. 

“I’m going to go dance,” you declared, finishing your drink quickly. “I’ll find Chenle out there and join him.” This was your meek attempt at trying to get him to come along with you, not particularly wanting to leave his side or be separated from him even for just a song. 

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell Donghyuck wanted to let you out of his sight either, especially not when you looked like that.

“I’ll come with you.”

You didn’t object.

After a few more hours of drinking, dancing and partaking in activities that would make your parents consider sending you to boarding school, you found yourself leaning against one of the walls of the house. You were completely unaware of which room you were in, everything happening in front of you feeling as if it was taking place in slow motion, your eyelids feeling heavy. 

Doing shots with Sakura was the beginning of the end for you. You had spaced out the shots a little, and since they didn’t hit you immediately you had assumed that you were doing fine, and proceeded to consume a couple of Chenle’s concoctions- the worst possible decision you could have made. God knows what he had put into that cup of yours, but it was strong.

All this culminated in you attempting to keep yourself upright against the wall, fighting your drunken stupor to the best of your abilities. You felt good, and wanted to stay awake for the rest of the party, one that had absolutely no signs of slowing down anytime soon. It was probably around one in the morning at this point, and although you were having the time of your life, the smokey, dim lit setting and being surrounded by your fellow drunks was starting to feel stifling.

“There you are.” 

You slowly looked up and registered the face that had waltzed into your view, taking your own sweet time to study the familiar spaced out expression that was plastered on Donghyucks stupidly gorgeous face. His pupils were dilated (as were yours, you were sure) and his hair messy but even that wasn’t enough to disrupt his beauty.  You were about to complain about this very fact, but he beat you to it, speaking once more.

“You disappeared after the first round of beer pong, and Jaehyun made me finish the game before I left, but I couldn’t find you after that.”

His manner of speaking wasn't the sharpest either, clearly very tipsy, but in an infinitely better state then you were. You had spent most of your time at the party so far by his side, thoroughly enjoying how he would hold your hand and guide you from place to place so you wouldn’t get lost and the way he placed his hands on the small of your waist, as if having some sort of physical contact with you was important to him. You especially liked how he would dip his head down, mouth right near your earlobe so that you could hear him speak over all the noise. 

As he had said, it was while some of your friends had dragged him into playing a game of beer pong was when you had slipped away, not entertained by the game in the slightest. You found Sakura and with every shot of vodka you let into your system, signed away your sobriety. 

“Ah,” you mumbled dumbly in response, nodding absent-mindedly, the memory of how he had his hand on the small of your back while you were dancing to the music popping back into your mind.

Music that was currently much too loud for you.

Donghyucks features twisted into a look of confusion, clearly not having heard your sound of acknowledgement. “What?”

You groaned, “It’s too loud in here.”

He seemed to have picked up on that, somehow understanding what you needed without you even asking for it. “Do you want to go outside for a little? Take a break from this?”

“Fuck yes.”

You pushed yourself off the wall, promptly stumbling right into Donghyucks arms. He looped them around you and helped you regain your standing, a small laugh leaving him, the sound having you certain you had never heard something quite so magical. “Maybe we should get you some water first?”

“No,” You breathed out, shaking your head rapidly. “I just want some fresh air.” 

This was how you ended up sitting upon the pavement of the street just outside Chenle’s mansion. The cold night air had you scooting a little closer to Donghyuck, before burying your face in your hands, which rested upon your knees, as you counted to ten in your mild, trying your best to regain your bearings once more. 

Donghyuck wished he had worn a jacket so that he could give it to you, but settled for throwing an arm around you to offer some warmth. The fresh air had helped sober him up a little, offering him the slightest bit of clarity as he sat there on the asphalt.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you said faintly, evoking a snicker from his end.

“You think? You barely made it out here alive.”

The music was softer outside, much more bearable. You could hear the leaves rustle gently, as if forming their own melody. 

“Shut u-up.” Somehow, you managed to stutter on this very basic phrase, only inviting more laughter from his end. You didn’t think you’d be able to blame it on the cold.

“My God, you’re so fucking drunk.”

You looked up at him, somehow momentarily unfazed by the close proximity and with a defiant look in your eyes, ready to argue back even in your inebriated element. “It’s not like you’re a saint right now either.”

He puffed out a laugh at how adorably indignant you were. “At least I’m better than you.”

“God you’re so fucking annoying,” you whined. “I really don’t know why I like you so much.”

You barely registered what you said, the words leaving your lips without much restriction. Inebriation caused you to let your guard down a little too much. He froze beside you, blinking rapidly to try and gauge how serious you were.

“You like me?”

The question somehow pulled you back to reality, but only a little bit. You opened your mouth and subsequently shut it, heavily hesitating. Even like this, you knew the weight that it carried, and the risks that came along with owning up to this accusation that you had brought upon yourself with your own carelessness.

Perhaps it was the cold, or maybe it was the faux confidence given to you by all the intoxicants in your system. 

“Yeah.” Your heart hammered in your chest. “I do.”

“And you’re sure this is not just because you’re absolutely shit-faced right now?”

“Excuse me? I am not-”

You never got to finish rebuking that claim of his, because he pressed his lips to yours almost feverishly, as if he had been waiting to do so for a long time. You gasped against his lips, your body responded before your mind even understood what was happening, instantly leaning into him and resting a hand on his knee to steady yourself. His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, cupping your face ever so gently as he moved his mouth against yours slowly.

He tasted sharp almost, the remnants of whatever alcohol he had been confusing fresh upon his lips, strawberries- probably from a vape- along with a bitter undertone that you couldn’t quite place just yet, too acutely aware and focused on the fact that Lee Donghyuck was kissing you and how his thumb brushed gently against your cheekbone. 

The kiss filled you with warmth and you immediately forgot about how cold you felt previously, every sound around you fading into the background, utterly unimportant to you. You felt yourself flush under his touch, your fingers reaching out and curling into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer.

Donghyuck could hardly believe that this was happening either, acting on impulse the moment you confirmed that you did, in fact, like him. He pulled away after a few seconds, watching as your eyes fluttered open a little later, wide is slight disbelief, your pretty peach -flavoured lipgloss a tad smudged, now also on his lips.

“You just kissed me,” you said in awe, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear fondly. 

“I did.”

“You kissed me,” you repeated once again, like saying it aloud would keep it real and not just a figment of your imagination, “and you taste like smoke.”

You had eventually realised what the bitterness was. He frowned lightly, trying to place why that was. “Johnny hyung taught me how to smoke a joint sometime earlier- oh fuck, did that ruin it?” 

The look of genuine worry on his face made you almost laugh, and you stared at him incredulously, almost scoffing at the notion. Your fingers were definitely wrinkling his shirt with how tightly you were holding it at that moment and you shook your head firmly- well, as firmly as you could for someone who could barely stand upon her very own two feet.

“Nothing could ever ruin it.”

When you awoke, you had absolutely no clue where you were. 

Tucked neatly into a bed, you blinked rapidly to regain your bearings, staring up at the ceiling in pure mystification. You came to the conclusion that this was one of Chenle’s guest bedrooms, but couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how you got there. 

You attempted to sit up but did so a little too fast, a sharp pang of pain rushing to your head and making it feel as if it split apart. A strangled sound of agony left you as you slowed your movements, opting to lean against the headboard as a compromise to sitting up straight. 

And that's when it hit you.

Memories from last night rushed back to you, fractured and in hazy glimpses. You recalled holding up a stranger's hair while they puked in one of the bathrooms, awkwardly standing aside another girl who had never spoken to before as she sobbed, mascara streaming down her face, laughing drunkenly with Sakura and Chenle (that screechy laugh of his had somehow been amplified with how plastered he was) and stumbling through the many hallways of the house. You couldn’t recall anything in its entirety, having to make do with the mismash of chaotic, foggy remembrance.

But you distinctly remembered Donghyuck kissing you outside the mansion. And then once again inside, after he made you drink water, and near the staircase, and-

You placed your hands over your warming cheeks. It was quite amusing, how the only thing you remembered perfectly was making out with him. 

Carefully, you got out of the bed, gritting your teeth to bear with the pounding in your head. You were still in your dress from last night, and there was no way in hell you were going downstairs looking like this. Somehow, you found your way to Chenle’s room, which was thankfully empty, and shut yourself in his bathroom, before sighing in resignation at your reflection. Your eyeliner was smudged around your eyes, makeup completely demolished- you were sure that your skin was crying because you slept in it. 

Your bag was still there, and you removed the extra clothes you had brought along, freshening up as quickly as you could and changing. It felt good to get out of the tight dress and into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, washing all your makeup off. Deeming yourself finally presentable, you began your journey downstairs. 

Downstairs, as you had referred to it as, had been completely trashed. Solo cups and bottles of alcohol were strewn everywhere, along with random shoes lying about. You grimaced at the sight that somehow contributed to your migraine, walking past it all to the kitchen, where Johnny stood near the stove, flashing you a bright smile.

“Y/n! Good, you’re awake. Take a seat, my famous pancakes are almost ready.”

Chenle was slumped over the island, sitting at one of the stools around it. He glanced up at the mention of your name, and somehow, the boy looked worse than you felt. You occupied the seat beside him, cocking your head to the side and silently asking why Johnny Suh of all people was still around, when it seemed like everyone else had dispersed.

“I threw up twelve times last night,” he offered instead, a certain hoarseness in his voice. “Johnny stayed over to make sure I didn’t die, and handled almost everything after. Somehow, he doesn’t get hangovers.” The last bit of information sounded a little like your friend was complaining over how unjust it was that he had to deal with a hangover, while the senior didn’t.

“It comes with experience,” Johnny said wisely, putting the pancakes he had made onto a plate and sliding it over to the two of you. “Leave a couple for your other friend, I think she’s still sleeping.”

You nodded, grabbing a fork and immediately dug into the breakfast he had so kindly cooked for the two of you, trying to pay attention to his speech about how pancakes were the best cure to a hangover and nod where you thought it was polite to do so, but your thoughts drifted away from him and to a certain boy. 

Donghyuck had also been pretty drunk by the end of it all, you were sure. Chances were he didn’t even remember kissing you, but that singular thought was enough to have your stomach plummet. 

“Y/n? Are you listening?”

“Yes?” You snapped out of it, biting the inside of your cheek hard.

Chenle rolled his eyes, but grinned. “The party was a success, Johnny hyung himself just said so!” Safe to say, Chenle was on cloud nine. You, on the other hand, were a mixture of anxiety and elation, which was a most confusing combination to unpack. The older boy smiled in hilarity, somewhat seeing his younger self in your friend.

“The next will be even better.”

As Chenle began planning the hypothetical future party (with a raging hangover, mind you- he truly was shameless), you stuffed your face with another morsel of pancakes, soaked in maple syrup, hoping that it would soak up the remaining alcohol in your system and help you think clearly about your circumstance.

By the time Sakura emerged from her slumber, it was around noon, and the pancakes had long been devoured.

You arrived home in the evening to an empty house and a note from your parents saying that they had decided to go on a date night. This worked out well in your favour, considering you had no energy to deal with anything after the events of last night. Johnny, being the only one completely in his senses, had driven Sakura’s car back with the two of you, making sure you reached home safely. 

Flopping down onto your couch, you shut your eyes for a few seconds, deciding that what you needed to recuperate was a calm night. Perhaps you’d watch a few movies and order pizza.

These glorious plans of yours were quickly thwarted when you heard your doorbell ring.

Suppressing an annoyed groan, you forced yourself to answer the door, your eyes widening at the sight of Donghyuck standing there. Your mind immediately scrambled on seeing him, not a single coherent thought forming, which led to a most intelligent greeting from your end.

“Uh.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing behind you and into your house. Embarrassment flared up inside of you, and you coughed awkwardly, opening the door wider and shuffling to the side. “Right, wanna come in?”

So now he was in your kitchen, and you had no idea what to talk about. “When did you leave Chenle's?”

“Early morning,” he informed you, eyes following your every move as you poured yourself a glass of water, sipping on it to curb the awkwardness in the air. He paused, studying you carefully and slowly asked. “How was the hangover?”

“Terrible,” you groaned, the insistent throbbing of your head proving this. You finished up your water and walked closer to him. “It’s still there. I’m never drinking again.” 

He snickered disbelievingly, a glint in his eyes that represented an emotion you couldn’t quite place yet. “Liar.” He seemed distracted, tapping his foot rhythmically against your floor. You briefly wondered how his hangover had dissipated so quickly, envious of the fact.

“Listen buddy, I’m a quick learner, and I’ve learned that being wasted is not worth the consequences.” 

You said this in a joking manner, but there wasn’t even a hint of hilarity on his face, a serious expression facing you instead. Panic seized you for a moment, wondering if he truly didn’t remember the kiss, or if he did and regretted it. Maybe he was here to tell you to forget it ever happened, that it was just a drunken mistake from his end and that it would never happen again.

Maybe, you were just a terrible kisser.

“You were supposed to laugh,” you muttered weakly, your anxiety clawing at your chest. If he was about to reject you and crush your heart, you needed there to be more space between the two of you, and instinctively took a step back, moving to take another right after, but you were stopped.

Donghyuck grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward until you were right in front of him, his determination crystal clear.

“I am not your buddy.”

He said the word with resentment almost, staring at you hard. You swallowed thickly, not quite knowing what to say, terrified at the possibility of this being him cutting off your friendship as well. Him not liking you romantically was bad enough, but him wanting nothing to do with you was even worse. You couldn’t imagine not having Lee Donghyuck as at least a friend. 

Pressing his lips together, he asked. “Do-do you remember everything from last night?”

The question hit you like a train, and the stutter in his voice- the hesitation, it suddenly cleared all of the terrible outcomes you were thinking of. He definitely remembered, and it seemed like he was afraid that you didn’t. It dawned upon you right then that it was quite possible that both of you were royal idiots.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Not everything.” His grip on your wrist was gentle and warm, you could see him swallow, a flicker of dread passing through those brown eyes of his as he rephrased his question. 

“Do you remember what happened between us?”

How could you possibly forget? It was the only thing you could remember, the ghost of his kiss still lingering upon your lips that yearned for the feeling once more. Your confession was fresh on your mind, being the only thing you had thought about from the moment you awoke.

“You know I do.”

Your voice was quiet, refusing to look at him properly. His other hand rose to your face a few seconds later, fingers gripping your chin and tenderly angled your face upwards so that you were forced to, your face just inches away from his. You desperately hoped he couldn’t feel the slight tremble of your hand, feeling vulnerable without the courage that alcohol supplied to you. 

“You know what? I don’t think I do know.” The coy nature of his voice did not go unnoticed by you. “I think I might need something to refresh my memory.”

You gawked at the boy, completely in disbelief at the sheer audacity he displayed right then, purposely playing with your already extremely frazzled mind in such a manner. You released your hand from his, hitting his arm weakly in annoyance. 

“You’re so lame,” you declared, and he frowned.

“Lame? I’m trying to be smooth over here!” He genuinely sounded kind of distressed, and you couldn’t help the smile that erupted upon your face, even if you did your best to look as annoyed as possible.

“If you want me to kiss you, just say so, you idiot.”

He hummed as if deep in thought, only putting you more on edge. Slipping the hand that held your face behind your neck, he nodded softly and followed your instructions. “Fine, I want you to kiss me.”

He pulled you closer by your waist, fingers entangling in your hair as you closed the distance between the two of you. You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him almost feverishly, more than eager to experience it while sober. He smiled against your lips, which was enough to bring forth giggles from your end. 

You kissed him until you were breathless and felt flushed, dizzy from just how long you had truly been waiting for this. Pulling away, you looked at him, searching for an answer to a question that had popped to the forefront of your mind.

“We just kissed.”

“For the second time,” he added helpfully.

“Right. And you’re not my buddy?” You raised an eyebrow, almost as if you were purposely provoking him.

“Please don’t friendzone me on day one itself.” 

A laugh left you, and he let his other hand fall down to your waist, interlocking his fingers right by the small of your back as if he was securing you in place, making sure you wouldn’t disappear in that moment. Not that you wanted to anyway, being quite content with where you were currently.

“I won’t.” You promised, biting the inside of your cheek as apprehension suddenly came over you. “So then…?”

“Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He cut off the pointed silence with his question, one that had you nodding before you even verbally announced your answer. The shy yes that you pronounced earned you that marvelous smile you so loved, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him tight, as if trying to memorise every detail about what had just happened.

You were only sixteen, and perhaps still hopelessly unaware of the magnitude of your feelings towards Donghyuck, but somewhere in the uncertain haze that you had to navigate, you always knew that every path would always lead you straight back into his arms. You’d figure it out with your hand safely tucked in the pocket of his jacket, intertwined with his so firmly it felt as if he would never let go. 

After all, what was love, if not the sweet promise of forever?

part i fin.

#haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee haechan x reader #haechan au #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #nct haechan #lee haechan #nct donghyuck #nct fanfiction #nct dream fanfiction #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck fanfic #donghyuck angst #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct au #as i post this imagine me sighing in release and nervousness tyvm

[onlyseokmins]

Hiii, I've been thinking about a story where scoups is a teacher and yn a student 👀, I'd love to see you right sometime like that,,

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), college!au, tutor!au Warnings: lol okay slight bulge kink, kind of mirror sex, tiny sir kink, dirty talk, reader is hornknee okay and calls themselves a whore but lbr so is cheol, light spanking, mentions of fingering, squirting, omigod idrk just lmk if i missed smth as always 🫣 WC: this was meant to be just a simple lil thot idk 🥲 A/N: oops my fingers slipped anyways hi anon 😩 the cheolrot is strong here although tbh i personally don't feel comfy writing an actual teacher/student relationship explicitly so cheol's role is based on my position as a tutor/assistant but i hope you still enjoy this 🫡

"Thought you didn't pay attention to the professor's lectures," Seungcheol coos in your ear, "but look at you now. Listening so well for me."

You can't help but arch your back at his praise. But he clicks his tongue, placing a large hand over the bulge that's formed from his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Or maybe I was wrong."

"N-no, I'll behave... I pr-promise." Your teary eyes plead with his bespectacled gaze in the reflection of your vanity mirror when he shifts. Jostling you on his lap, threatening to make you cum on the spot or worse — urge you off. "Please!"

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir!"

He chuckles lowly. A finger that still glistens with the wetness after being deep inside your pussy tauntingly taps at the notes laid out in front of you.

"There we go. Now, tell me the correct answer, lovely. Or we can go back to just my fingers... hm, maybe nothing at all. You know getting my dick inside you is a privilege."

All you can do is moan prettily in response and agreement. Because it really is a true gift. Grades be damned, you think you've excelled in all areas of your life and academic career after achieving this accolade. Getting to fuck the dreamy tutor that always sits in the back of your classroom, beefy muscles unconsciously flexing from his crossed-arms posture. Glasses glinting, eyebrows furrowed as he listens to the professor drone on and on.

At least, that's what you thought Choi Seungcheol was doing. Quite the contrary, actually. His tongue plays with your dainty hoop earring as he whispers in your ear, smirk growing bigger at the depraved image all for him. One that he's imagined multiple times during the semester.

"I asked you a question."

"I... mhm — oh, fuck," you mewl as your walls continue to flutter pathetically around his hard length. "I... I can't!"

"Can't what? Can't stop yourself from cumming or can't answer?" He snarls out his first question before easing into a more mocking tone for the second. "Gorgeous baby too fucked out to give me a proper response?"

Your head hits his shoulder, tongue lolling. Seungcheol savors the way your chest heaves and the tight, low-cut shirt you're wearing showcases your tits just right for him to peer at without shame instead of glances in the classroom. All before he's suddenly bending you over, the side of your face smashed against the graphite scrawls of your notebook.

His hips snap aggressively and cause the vanity stand to bang repeatedly against the wall at the same tempo as his thrusts. Your cute makeup products shake in time, the pretty glass perfume vials threatening to fall. It would be a shame for them to break. Seungcehol adores the scent that wafts past him every day, the same one he's currently drowning in. Yet, he can't bring himself to stop, obsessed with the way your ass bounces against his pelvis to eagerly take every inch of his cock.

"Didn't even give me the right answer."

"'m sorry."

"No you're not," he laughs cruelly and swats at your lower cheeks, "but that's okay. This sick little pussy can make up for anything, can't it?"

"Y-yes, sir... anything!"

"Yeah?" Seungcheol slaps you again, yet the coldness of his rings is the only thing that actually stings. "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Better let me fuck you from now on. Stuff you full whenever I feel like it. Been dreaming far too long of this, you drive me insane. Gotta eat you out, taste you for real. Touch these tits... god, all the things we could do."

It makes your pride swell even if you're drooling like a whore and ruining the notes you tried to labor over intensely during class despite scandalous, wandering thoughts about Seungcheol. Something tells you he'll make sure you won't fail anyways so it doesn't matter when all you can think about is his nice, hard dick hitting all the right spots.

"Let you do anything."

He snickers. "Oh, but you haven't even heard all of it yet. The things I thought of when seeing you giggle with your friends all the time while sneaking looks at me. Had to try and not get so fucking hard when you bat your pretty eyelashes and ask another stupid question."

Those pretty eyelashes are fluttering rapidly now. You won't last long, already edged for a good hour prior. Wetness soaking your ruined thong even before Seungcheol agreeably showed up at your dorm to help tutor you. Basically throwing yourself at him after a few back-and-forth questions and a bit of not-much-needed seduction until he affirmed your verbal consent, fingers exploring your desperate cunt as he quizzed you on what was talked about in class earlier.

Your release hits as you cry out in delirium but he doesn't stop. Doesn't even slow down. In fact, he only speeds up. Fucking you through your orgasm with crazed, animalistic joy.

You welcome it though. Knees having given out a long time ago, you're grateful for the support of furniture despite the slight discomfort because all of that is forgotten by the overriding whelms of ultimate pleasure. He knows you can take it.

"Give me another one, yeah pretty baby? Squirt all over my cock like I know you can. No matter how dumb and cock-drunk you act, you're much smarter than you let on."

"M'kay, sir."

It's true. You're not afraid to play dumb just for his attention. It played off. After all, it's you he's fucking and not your friend who boldly declared she'd ask out the hot tutor today. Well, shucks. Seems like he's been thinking a lot about you too.

Of course, you want to prove to him just how good and intelligent you are. Giving into your body's thralls, you let it do its thing. Knowing it'll get to where you and Seungcheol want it.

It doesn't take long. The mixture of overstimulation, burning desire, and his cock constantly stroking that bundle of nerves in the most perfect and delicious way causes you to snap harder than you think you ever had. Nothing has ever felt this good.

Seungcheol curses. Your cunt both expels and sucks him in as you sob. Slickness splashes against his lower abs and he's almost frozen in awe at just how perfect your body is. So responsive and eager to please. He's left with no choice but to give in and cum on the spot. That's fine, though. This is everything he's dreamed of. And more.

"Shit, I think my dick's in love with your pussy."

You wheeze out a laugh in disbelief. "Thanks?"

"I'm serious. How are you real?"

"Now don't go catching feelings so quickly." You intend to sound haughty and threatening but the effect is lost when you're still breathless and bent over your vanity, a combo of your releases oozing from your spent hole after he shifts a bit. "I need to stay out of academic probation if I want to go on a date."

The hand absentmindedly running up and down your back halts. "You'll go on a date with me?"

"Maybe."

"It wasn't a no."

"I thought you waited for someone's explicit consent."

Brown eyes sparkle mischievously behind his glasses. "Knew you were a smartie."

"Yeah, I do pay attention sometimes," you huff, flinching when his fingers touch at your sensitive clit causing him to mumble out an apology. "So help me study."

"Oh, I will," he assures you. Helping you gently turn your aching body around to face him before suggestively cupping your covered breasts. "But how about a little more anatomy study before our date?"

"Seungcheol!"

But honestly, how could you refuse? Placing your arms around his neck, you pull him in close to meet pouty lips in a shy kiss, contrasting greatly with the sinful way your legs wrap around his hips.

"I expect all A's from a stellar student like you."

"With a dick game as strong as this, I might just oust the top student, the great Mr. Choi himself, from his position."

He can't even be mad, chest puffing out in a weird sense of happiness. "We'll just have to see about that."

#ez.creates #svthub #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #scoups smut #nonny 🎭 #ngl this was SUPER self indulgent based on today so yeah 👀 haha #anyways #don't perceive me as usual good night #1k 🌟 #svt.smut