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tqmies · 5 months

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In Disguise

Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?

Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader

Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!

Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise

Word count. 13K (oh...)

Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!

"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.

"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.

Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.

The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.

"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."

"Then where would you put your stuff?"

And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.

Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.

Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!

"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.

"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.

"Oh I made it just in time then."

Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"

And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."

The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"

Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."

"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.

It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.

So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.

Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.

"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.

"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.

After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.

"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.

"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.

Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."

"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.

Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.

Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.

It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.

During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.

That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"

"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.

You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.

You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.

Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.

They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.

They were such nerds.

You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.

"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.

Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."

"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.

"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"

"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.

"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.

"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.

"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.

"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.

"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.

You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"

"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.

This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."

"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.

You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"

You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"

You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.

"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."

"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."

"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.

You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."

And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.

Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in

You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.

Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.

You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.

You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.

Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.

"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.

Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"

"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.

You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"

You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.

"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.

"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"

And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.

God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.

What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!

Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.

After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?

"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.

"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.

You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"

"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.

"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"

"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.

"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?

"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.

"On a Sunday?"

"Computers work on Sunday's too."

God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."

Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.

Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.

Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.

So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.

Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?

Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.

Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.

Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.

Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.

And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?

You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?

That Kim Doyoung was making porn?

Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.

There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.

You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.

You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.

You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.

You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.

You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."

You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.

"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."

"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.

"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.

"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.

If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.

"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."

"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."

"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.

"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were.

His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.

"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.

"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"

You nod, curious. "You know him?"

"Not really, just know he's a jock."

You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."

Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."

"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.

"Exactly."

Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"

"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.

"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."

"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.

"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.

"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.

"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.

You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."

"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.

Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."

"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."

"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.

You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.

"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."

"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.

You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."

Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."

"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.

"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"

"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."

"Worth a shot."

"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."

"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."

"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."

You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Nope. Now."

You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"

"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.

"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.

Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."

"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."

"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.

Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.

You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.

You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"

You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."

Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."

You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"

Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."

Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?

"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?

You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"

Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.

You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?

"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.

Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."

You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."

"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."

He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."

Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"

"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."

Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"

"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"

"You what?" Doyoung perks up.

"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."

Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.

Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."

And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."

"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.

"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.

Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"

"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."

"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."

"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."

Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.

But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.

It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.

"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.

"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.

They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.

Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"

"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.

"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"

"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"

"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.

You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"

"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert!"

"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.

Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."

You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?

You admit. "I'm all ears."

"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.

"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.

"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."

Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."

"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"

Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"

"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.

So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?

Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.

You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.

Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.

Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!

You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.

It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.

Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.

While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.

You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.

Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."

Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"

You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.

A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.

Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"

But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.

Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

You giggle. "I see that."

"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.

"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.

"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."

Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"

You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"

"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.

Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."

"Why not?"

"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?

Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.

"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.

"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."

"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.

Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"

You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."

His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.

"I wouldn't want to bother-"

"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"

You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"

"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.

But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?

"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.

"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.

You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"

"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."

"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.

“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”

You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”

“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.

You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."

And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?

Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.

That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.

Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?

Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.

The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."

"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."

You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"

He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."

You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?

You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!

You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"

Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."

You furrow your brows. "Alright.."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."

And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."

You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."

Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."

You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."

He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"

"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.

He meets your eyes. "Please?"

“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.

Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?”

It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.”

Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?”

You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."

You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.

And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-”

You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.

He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?

He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.

You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.

He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."

You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"

He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."

He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."

The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.

Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."

And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.

You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"

The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.

"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.

You swallow hard. "We were just-"

"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.

Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"

Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.

"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.

"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.

You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."

"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.

Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"

The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?

You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"

Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."

Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.

Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"

Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"

"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.

Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."

Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."

Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."

"A tease?"

"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.

You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."

"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"

Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."

You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"

You turn back to the other two. "I want to."

Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"

Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"

"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.

Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."

You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.

Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.”

“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.

“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.”

“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you.

“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust.

You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!”

“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.”

You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core.

Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.”

Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.”

You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?”

You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.

Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.

You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"

You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.

He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.

Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"

You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"

"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"

You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.

Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.

"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."

He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.

You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.

You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"

He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.

Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.

Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.

But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"

Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"

Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.

"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"

Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."

Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.

He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.

"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.

"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.

"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."

He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?

Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.

You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.

The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.

You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.

Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.

He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.

Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.

He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.

"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"

You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.

He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."

You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."

You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.

Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.

You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"

He nods, "Are -shit- you?"

You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.

You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.

You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.

With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.

He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.

Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.

Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."

Who knew he could be so mean?

"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.

He smirks. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."

He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."

You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"

The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.

"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.

"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"

The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.

"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.

You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.

Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.

You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.

His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.

“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe.

Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”

“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.

You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”

He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.”

Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.

Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.

Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."

Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.

Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"

You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"

He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."

"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.

"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.

He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.

You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.

You shout out, "I'm cumming!"

His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.

"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.

"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."

"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.

"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.

He blinks, "Yeah?"

You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.

Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."

Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"

Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."

"You're hard again, aren't you?"

The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."

He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."

You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.

Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?”

“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though.

“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,

You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."

However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again.

He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake.

“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss.

Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.”

His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?”

“Unless you don’t to-”

“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.

You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?

Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.

You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?

He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.

Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.

But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.

"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.

"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.

"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.

"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."

He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"

You smile, "Yes, really."

"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"

You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."

He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."

"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.

You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.

Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.

Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!

You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.

Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.

Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.

People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.

Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.

Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."

You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."

"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."

"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.

"That's not what I-"

"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."

"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.

He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."

"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."

Doyoung snorts, "Gross."

"Not like that, you pervert!"

"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."

"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"

You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."

The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not telling her."

Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."

Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."

"It's all good, It's not that bad."

"You like listening don't you-"

"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."

781 notes · View notes

be-with-me-so-happily · 1 year

Text

Friendly Favor

ONE SHOT

<< Request >> "If you take requests for one shots could I please give one ? Soo the good ol’ trope where Harry and you are best friends but he thinks he likes someone else so he asks you to fake date him to make the other person jealous but during the process he realises that he loves you and happy ending . I’d be thrilled if you do write something for this but it not that’s totally cool too thanks anyways and have a great day 😍" - ANON

~~~~~

Summary: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

A/N: This is my first fake dating trope fic. Hopefully it came out good.

Warnings: some explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealousy, arguments, fingering, hand/blow job

~~~~~

"I think this might literally be the dumbest idea you've ever had, H!" You laugh, grabbing a french fry from the plate sitting on the couch between you and Harry. You look over to find his arms crossed over his chest and a pout formed from his bottom lip. That adorable pout, with his pretty pink lips, that always seems to work on you despite your attempts to stand your ground.

"It's gonna work…" He grumbles, taking the plate of fries and moving them to the other side of him, just out of your reach.

"Seriously? You want me to pretend to be your date to a house party, so Chloe will get jealous and want to go out with you?" You laugh again in disbelief and lean over him in an attempt to reclaim your favorite comfort food. "That's seriously so dumb!"

"But it's a party. It'll be fun either way." He attempts to convince you.

"Full of people I don't know. I'd rather eat chalk." You respond, giving him a sarcastic glare, aware that your stubbornness will begin to crack any moment. Especially with his sultry dark scent currently floating around you.

"Come on… we're best friends… if you do me this favor, I'll… buy you something nice!"

"Harry, your idea of a nice gift is fuzzy socks. That's not really enticing." You giggle, reaching further across his lap, stretching your hand out as far as it will go but failing immensely.

"No, this'll be good. Promise. Plus you wear those socks all the time." He affirms, in that low, deep voice that causes a subtle shiver down your spine every time he uses it.

You and Harry have been best friends for years. Since right before 9th grade, in fact. You had moved in next door as the last school year ended, and quickly clicked with each other before it started up again. Since then, you two have been inseparable. At first, everyone thought you liked each other, but you both were quick to dispel those rumors. You didn't. You were just really good friends. But the older you got, and the more Harry denied it, the more bothered by it you became. He was everything to you. You trusted him, you felt safe with him, you had fun with him. You liked him. You loved him. Was it such a crazy idea that you two could be together? To you, the answer was always yes. He is very charming, and of course, very good looking. Every girl around swooned if he even looked their way, and melted away if he uttered the simplest "hello". He could be with any girl he wanted, and you were just you. Just his best friend. That's all you'd ever be to him, so that's what you'd settle for.

"Fine." You sigh, knowing that even if it hurts you, unfortunately you love him too much to say no. "I can do that. But I better get this gift even when this plan fails."

"If it fails. And it won't." He assures you, an annoying confidence beaming from his chest.

"Whatever." You reply, internally kicking yourself for being such a sap for him. He reaches around the back of your head and pulls it close to place a kiss on your temple.

"Thank you, babe." He replies, handing you back the plate you ended up forgetting about completely when his lips touched you. You love that nickname, but you hate it too, because you hate every girl who has heard it in the way you wish he meant it with you.

"Yeah, well, what are best friends for…"

×××

Nerves suddenly flood your brain as you walk up to the front door with Harry. Not only do you have to put on this little "girlfriend" charade with the guy you wish was your own, but you are worried you won't really know anyone inside, making an already awkward situation even more uncomfortable. He only mentioned Chloe being in attendance, because of course she is the only one he cares about being there. You know who she is, you have mutual friends of friends, and have been at the same hangouts or parties a time or two. You always thought she was a bit vain, and a big flirt with every guy who gave her the time of day, but she has clearly made an impression on Harry due to the fact that you're walking through the front door with a plan to make her jealous for him.

Harry immediately wraps his arm around your waist and you swear your knees could go weak at the gesture. You look up to where he stands next to you, watching him give you a quick wink, thankful that the lights are dim and covering up the blush rushing to your cheeks.

"Harry! What's up?" You hear, turning your attention further inside the house.

"Hey, love." He responds, giving a quick hug to Layla, a friendly face you are grateful to see. The three of you met this year, your junior year of college, all bonding over moving from small towns to this big, state university. You don't know her well, but at least you know someone. "Hey, YN! Welcome! I'm so happy you're here!"

"This is your party? This house is… wow!" You exclaim, your eyes wide as you look around the giant living room that makes your off-campus studio apartment look like a small cardboard box.

"Thanks! It's my parents, but they're never home, so I make good use of it." She shrugs with a smile. "Now, the drinks are in the kitchen, and everyone seems to have congregated in the living room. It's where the music is! So, have fun!"

She giggles and swiftly twirls around, waving as she finds more people to greet.

"Alright, girlfriend… drinks first?" Harry asks, chuckling as his palm leaves your waist and grabs your hand. This would be the sweetest little gesture if it actually meant anything real to him.

"Definitely. I'm definitely going to need one." You respond, letting him lead the way through a small crowd of people.

"Is it that difficult to even just pretend to love me?" He laughs, and you roll your eyes. It's the best motion you can think of to counteract every muscle in your body that wants to show him the exact opposite.

"Easy there with the love stuff… boyfriend… this is supposed to be a new relationship, right?" You remind him, and yourself.

"Right." He replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He's easy to love, but this won't be easy to get through. He lets go of your hand and pours you a drink. "Let's mingle, really sell our story, yeah?"

You exhale heavily and nod, getting that firm reminder of the reason you two are really here, and that Chloe is actually the one he wants.

You take a gulp of your drink, grabbing his hand as he leads you to a small group of people you've met once or twice before.

"I didn't know you two were together." Someone politely states, causing Harry to squeeze your hand as a signal to really start up this charade.

"Yeah, s'kinda new." Harry shrugs and looks over to you with those sparkling green eyes you wish you could dive into. "But we've been best friends forever, so it was bound to happen."

Ouch. What a cruel thing to say, if he actually knew how true that could be for the two of you. If he actually felt the same as you.

But this is just a performance. For him. And since you genuinely feel the way he wants you to pretend that you do, you figure it will be easy to play along. So you will.

"Yep! He finally realized what he was missing out on." You smile as you turn your head to the group, your attention almost taken back by the way Harry clears his throat.

"I knew it would happen eventually! You're super cute together!" Layla exclaims, looking between the both of you with a tipsy smile. "And YN, you look fucking hot tonight, girl!"

You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your outfit is nothing special, even if you do feel good in it. Harry's hand wraps back around your waist and he squeezes your side.

"Yes she does." He agrees, looking over to you with a mischievous smirk. Those damn dimples could make any girl feel wanted. And, unfortunately, it does the same with you.

You shake your head and take another large sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can kick in soon and get you out of your thoughts. You want to relax. You need to relax. You need to get through this night.

As the group disperses, you feel Harry pull you in tighter towards him, resting his forehead on your temple as he brings his mouth to your ear. Every hair in your body stands up immediately.

"You do look really good, babe." He states, causing your heart to flutter. As much as you know he doesn't mean it in the way you want him to, hearing those words causes your teeth to bite down on your bottom lip.

"Okay, hot shot, don't waste a compliment if people aren't around." You reply, trying to keep your composure and not completely melt at the whisper of words that just flowed out from him.

"M'serious." He sternly replies, causing you to turn towards him and be met with a frown. If he was truly yours, you'd run your thumb over to smooth it out and keep him calm.

Your eyes flicker down to his, then back up to the tension between his eyebrows. You're not truly his, but you're pretending to be, and this is your opportunity. You bring your thumb up to the line, slowly running it over and seeing him instantly relax under your touch.

"Thank you." You state, staring into his eyes for a moment before quickly bringing it down and patting his chest to push him back.

He gives you a wink and grabs your hand, pulling you to yet another small group of people, wrapping his arm around you in some way or another, and frequently placing sweet kisses on your cheeks, probably not wanting to do much more and cross the line. You weren't going to complain. You could enjoy this. You could definitely enjoy this.

×××

"Hello ladies." You hear that sultry British accent state, as Harry sits down beside you at the campus cafe.

"Harry. Please tell YN that she should come to the club this weekend with me and Seth!" Your friend Eva exclaims, causing you to roll your eyes. You don't mind parties, especially if you know people, but clubs are something different. Most of the time you avoid those situations and hang out with Harry instead. You find that to be a much better way to spend your time.

"Ummm… I was actually hoping she'd go to a party with me…" He replies, turning his attention to you.

"Again?" Your brow furrows in confusion, and Harry's eyes dart between you and Eva. She begins to look between you and Harry, rolling her eyes as he keeps a tight lip around whatever it is he wants to say next.

"I'm not giving up." She points at you as she stands up, grabbing her stuff and walking away.

You chuckle as she heads out and then glance back at Harry.

"So…"

"My plan didn't work." He states.

"I'm absolutely shocked!" You reply sarcastically and dramatically, throwing your palm against your chest.

"Shut up." He glares at you, returning his expression by sticking your tongue between your teeth. "But if we go to this party-"

"Seriously, H? Come on." You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head slightly at his desperation. Why does he have to be longing for Chloe's attention? You'd give it all and then some, for real, if he wanted it.

"Please, babe! Pleeeease?" He scoots closer with a pout on his lips, and you hate that he knows that this tactic works well on you.

You sigh, in what is most likely defeat. You want to say no. You want to be selfish. You want him to give up on this plan and have him all to yourself.

"I'll give you a really, really nice gift…"

"I can't believe you're bribing me. And I can't believe it's working."

"Yeah? It's working?" He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself closer for a hug. He looks up and you can see out of the corner of your eye that he is batting his lashes in fake innocence.

"Fine. I can do that. But no more help if this doesn't work out." You state, hoping that it won't. Really hoping that it won't. Even if he doesn't feel the same for you, at least you can keep your best friend around.

×××

The days leading up to the next party were the same. Almost the same. Harry met you every day with a coffee, walked you to most of your classes, and hung out with you at lunch each day, as always. The thing that changed was all the little kisses on your hands, cheeks, and temple. The wrapping of his arm securely around your waist and the occasional squeeze on your hip when his hand dropped down slightly. The way he surprised you by grabbing your arms from behind, and mumbling "hey babe" into your ear. It was only a week, but it was the best week.

However, it was all just for show, and it was going to end tonight.

As you get out of Harry's car, you instinctively place your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he leads you to the front door.

You're less nervous about this party, because it is once again at Layla's house, and at least you know the place, so maybe you'll also know some of the people this time. Plus you have Harry by your side. So as soon as you walk in, you both make your way to the kitchen for a drink, and he walks behind you, holding your hip, while you move over to where the rest of the crowd has gathered.

His palm rests on your shoulder and begins to stroke it back and forth. A warmth rushes over you at his touch. His now familiar, yet still exciting touch. You look up at him, being met by those deep, inviting dimples, and a seductive smirk. Your breath halts for a moment, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

He leans his head down and rests his chin on your shoulder, causing a subtle hitch of your breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he didn't hear your embarrassing reaction.

"We're pretty good at this boyfriend-girlfriend shit, yeah?" He asks in a low mumble, not helping the rumble of butterflies in your stomach.

If he only knew you weren't pretending. You could just tell him you aren't. But you actually can't. You'd ruin his plan, and most likely your friendship. You don't want to lose him, even if you can't fully have him.

"I'm a great actress!"

"Yeah." He replies, standing up straighter and releasing his hand from you. "M'gonna get another drink. Want one?"

"Sure." You reply, downing what is currently left in your cup.

"I'll be right back." He states, walking towards the kitchen and leaving you to stand alone in the corner of the living room. You pull out your phone, hoping to distract yourself from the awkwardness of being by yourself, waiting for Harry to soon return.

×××

You don't realize, until you look at the time on your screen, that you have been standing there in the dim corner for twenty minutes.

You shake your head and make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the drink that Harry has clearly forgotten to bring you.

You turn the corner and glance around, stopping in your tracks when you find your best friend, leaning against the refrigerator, chatting with the woman sitting opposite him on top of the counter. Of course, it's none other than Chloe.

Your heart tightens. This was the plan. This is what he wanted. And he ended up being right, because clearly it worked out in his favor.

You slyly make your way to the other end of the kitchen and pour yourself a generous amount of tequila into a cup, finding the best thing available to mix it with before chugging half of the cup and refilling it to the top.

If he gets to have his fun now, you might as well try to do the same.

You put your head down and make your way back out into the living room, bumping into a tall presence before reaching your destination.

"Sorry! Shit! Sorry!" You exclaim, wiping the small bit of drink from your top, and looking up to find a wide smile and even wider eyes.

"I bumped into you, YN, it's all good." The guy replies, causing you to squint your eyes at the confusion of how he knows your name. He chuckles as he notices your expression. "Trevor. We had English 1A together last year."

"Oh my god. Yeah! Hey!" You blurt out, smacking your palm against your forehead in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Like I said, it's all good." He chuckles, placing his palm on your shoulder. "Are you okay though? You seem a little… frazzled."

"Frazzled?" You giggle at the word, then sigh at the realization that his observation was probably pretty accurate. "I think I just need to sit down."

"Follow me, the comfiest couch is this way." He states, motioning for you to follow him as you both make your way to the other side of the large living room. You find the giant sofa and plop down on it next to him. There is a lot of space, but you don't shy away from sitting close.

"Better?" He asks, resting his arm on the back.

"Much! Thank you."

"So, would you like me to ask you what's going on, or distract you with my incredible array of celebrity impressions?"

You bring your legs up onto the seat, pulling your knees to your chest and taking another sip of the liquid concoction that now seems less intense than before.

"Ooh, impressions, please." You reply excitedly. This is something you can distract yourself with. He is somebody you can distract yourself with. At least for tonight.

"Okay, get ready. You're going to be amazed!"

×××

The night moves on as you continue to talk to Trevor, feeling a lot lighter than you had at the beginning of the night, even if your body is full of tequila.

"Have you had the barbeque chicken at that place down the street from campus?"

"No, but now I think I definitely have to." You giggle, not for the first time with him. The more drink that enters your body, the more you relax, and apparently the flirtier you get.

"Maybe we can go someti-"

"YN! I've been looking all over for you!" Harry exclaims, doing his best to hide the frustration only you can tell that he is withholding.

"Clearly not hard enough." You mumble under your breath as you roll your eyes at him.

"Can you come with me, babe?" He asks through a forced smile, his hand subtly balling into a fist at his side.

"Actually… babe... Trevor and I were just talking about a barbeque place I want to try." You snarl, pointing to the man seated beside you, wishing you could manage to ease the intense confusion plastered all over Trevor's face.

"It's all good." Trevor states suddenly, standing up and giving you a small smile. "Maybe we can chat later."

He gives you a thumbs up, which you assume is to ask you if you're all good, and you nod. He turns to walk away and you watch Harry's eyes follow him until he is out of sight.

"Come on. Please." He utters as he reaches his hand out to you, reluctantly being met with yours as you glare up to him.

He pulls you hastily through the crowds of people, simply nodding as some of them attempt to get his attention, and finally stops at the end of the long downstairs hallway.

He spins you around, your back resting against the wall, and his palms on either side of your head.

"Harry, what the hell is your problem? What was all that?"

"Me?" He growls, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks around, his eyes resting back on yours with a great deal of intensity. "You're just sitting there, flirting with that fucking guy, when we are supposed to be together…"

"Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now?" You question, feeling the breath being drawn out of you the longer he stares. "I served my purpose, and now I'm having fun."

"Served your what?"

"My purpose! I was only here to tell you to make Chloe jealous right?" You sigh when your chest tightens, hating every bit of your statement. Also angry that he can't seem to let you have any fun of your own. "And you seemed to have gotten what you wanted. You definitely had her attention in the kitchen."

"No. I mean, yeah, we were in there talking-"

Suddenly, you're interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open, seeing Trevor step out and glance in your direction. Harry immediately grabs the back of your neck, pushing his lips against yours with more pressure than you thought would be needed to sell the moment. You hear footsteps become more distant and you push on Harry's chest in an attempt to move him back.

"What's wrong with you? He's not the one we needed to make jealous, you idiot!"

Harry's breathing becomes shallow as his green eyes pierce into yours, flickering down to your lips before rejoining your gaze.

"Kiss me again." He whispers.

Your eyes widen in shock and your head quickly swivels back and forth to search for anyone nearby. There's no one around. There's not even anyone to make jealous anymore since he has the one he wants.

"Why do we-"

"Just… kiss me again."

You are about to give some sort of rebuttal when his warm palms meet your cheeks, coating them in a heat that could burn handprints into your skin. He steps closer, your back now completely flush against the wall as his body presses into you. His lips quickly find synchronicity with yours, and you begin to melt. Your palms grab onto his shirt, desperately wanting to claw at the tattoos on his chest. His tongue parts your lips and you move to bite his lower lip, causing him to reach one hand down and squeeze your hip. Your fingers intertwined with his hair. His palm slowly moves its way up to your waist. You subtly push your hips towards his and let out a small whimper.

Then everything stops.

"Harry, why-"

"Fuck. I shouldn't… m'sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He fumbles, taking a step back and running his ring-clad fingers through the curls that yours were just tangled in.

"It's…" You begin to state, completely stunned by what just happened. By the way he just touched you, and kissed you, and held you tight. By the way it seemed to have been about something more than a stupid plan about someone else. By the way he suddenly halted it all. "It's okay, H."

"I'm… you're… we're too drunk for this. I think I just got… caught up in the moment…" He mumbles, refusing to look into your eyes and fixating his down to the floor.

"Oh. Ummm, okay. It's okay." You reply, suddenly feeling so embarrassed and so vulnerable.

"You were right. This was a dumb idea. It… it was a mistake."

Your stomach turns into knots.

"Harry…"

"We're friends. That shouldn't have happened."

The knot instantly grows tighter and your heart begins to sink.

"Like you said, I… I got Chloe's attention, so you're off the hook. You can go… be with that Trevor guy if you want."

Every muscle in your body is frozen from shock, and your mind can't seem to comprehend how the two of you went from what seemed like a passionate make out, to him basically waving you off.

"Right." You scoff in disbelief. You knew what the plan was, you knew the outcome he was hoping for. But you definitely didn't think you'd be hidden in the corner of a dark hallway, pressed against the wall by your best friend, practically feeling his heart pounding through his chest as he kissed you. You also didn't think he'd kiss you and then immediately dismiss you. You frown at yourself for momentarily believing that anything different was going to happen. Whatever the past week has been, and whatever that kiss was for you, clearly it wasn't the same for him. Just a drunken mishap while trying to convince others of this fake relationship, and you don't want to stick around to see him actually give someone else what you thought that moment was for you. "So, I'm just gonna head home."

"Wait, YN, you don't have to leave."

"You can consider this a breakup or whatever. Have fun with Chloe." You feel a pressure of tears beginning to build, and the breath in your body begins to escape you.

"YN-"

"Goodnight." You state, pushing past him and heading out to the living room, quickly thanking Layla for her hospitality.

Before you reach the front door, you feel a gentle grasp of your wrist and turn to find Trevor's concerned eyes turning downwards.

"YN, are you alright?"

Tears threaten to form as you cover up your sadness with a subtle nod.

"Do you need me to take you home?" He inquires, a softness in his eyes that could probably calm you in any other situation.

Your eyes shoot over to Harry, instantly finding him leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed over his chest and a daggered glare shooting towards the both of you.

Sadness is suddenly accompanied by anger and you gaze back at Trevor.

"I'm actually meeting up with some friends. But… could you wait with me outside while I order an Uber?"

He smiles and nods, placing a hand on your back as you begin to twist the door handle. You shoot one last look back to your best friend, and see him standing up straight, eyes wide and fists clenched.

Well, one of you got what they wanted tonight.

×××

You had surprised your friends by arriving at the club. And you shocked them by showing up without your usual companion, Harry.

As you wait for the bartender to hand you some shots, you explain everything to Eva and Seth.

"So, lemme get this straight…" Eva begins, resting her elbows on the countertop, an eyebrow raised from your recent story. "Your best friend, who you are clearly in love with, asked you to be his fake girlfriend to get another girl jealous enough to want to be with him."

"Yeah. Dumb idea right?"

"But… you said yes…" She adds with a still raised eyebrow… "YN, that was just as dumb!"

"Well, I didn't-"

"Didn't think it would work?" Seth adds, shaking his head.

"Right."

"Still seems really dumb." Eva adds, causing you to glare in her direction and open your mouth to make your case.

Shot glasses are suddenly placed in front of you, and you are thankful for the interruption. You shoot yours down quickly, and look over to see Eva refuse the one she was handed, so you take it from her and shoot that one down too.

"Slow down sweetie." Eva suggests.

"I'm fine." You wave her comment off as you get the bartender's attention for another. You're not sure if your intention is to finally have some fun, or to drown out the events of earlier in the evening. But either way, you're going to drink enough until one of those things happens.

"YN…"

"Let's dance!" You shout, after downing your next shot.

"You never dance at clubs…" Eva replies, with what you assume is inquisitive concern.

"Come onnnn… let's dance!" You exclaim, grabbing the hand of each of your friends and dragging them to the dancefloor.

They follow you, seemingly reluctant, but begin to dance with each other as the next song plays. If they weren't your good friends, you'd be put off by their displays of affection for each other. But only because you'd be a little jealous. And now you're suddenly aware of the open space around your body.

You furrow your brow and explain to your friends that you'll be in the bathroom. Eva offers to go with you, but you insist that she continue to dance with her boyfriend. If Harry was there, it wouldn't be a problem. But now you're a third wheel and you're not about to ruin their night. You've already had enough of that for yourself.

You enter the bathroom and immediately pull out your phone, not hesitating to dial the first contact on your 'favorites' list. No one else could hold that space.

"YN?" You hear on the other end, a gentle tone coming through the speaker.

"Harry, your idea was fucking stupid!" You immediately exclaim, shouting to be heard over the music in the venue, even though the bathroom is only affected by a quiet thump of the bass. You'd take a moment to be more impressed if you weren't so drunk and angry.

"Yeah I know." He sighs, which begins to anger you even more.

"I fucking hated it. It was stupid. You're stupid." You begin to fumble, leaning against the bathroom wall as your knees begin to wobble the same amount as your words.

"Are you… drunk?"

"No!" You shout, grabbing onto the nearby sink to steady yourself. "Maybe."

"YN…"

"That's what you do when you break up with someone right?"

"What?"

"Even though it was fake. Fucking fake. But still..."

"Where are you?" He asks sternly, and even in your intoxicated state, you can picture every detail that is most likely displayed on his face. The serious furrow of his brow, the inward pull of his lips, the shifting of his weight from one foot to the other. You know every part of it.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine!" You snap back. "I've got Eva and Seth. And not you! And it's fine. I'm fine!"

"YN-"

You pull the phone away from your ear and press the button to end the call. The shots have not given you results for either of the options you were deciding between when you got to the club, so you choose to gather yourself and go to grab another.

You bring your other hand to rest on the sink and look up into the mirror. You're not too much of a mess, but you notice tiny lines of mascara running down your cheeks. You didn't even know you had been crying. Crying for Harry, who isn't even yours. Wasn't yours before, wasn't yours tonight, and won't be yours ever. At least, not in the way you really want him to be.

He really can have whoever he wants. And it's not you.

You scold yourself for letting any feelings for him form, and then grow. He's your best friend. And obviously that'll never change. Unless you aren't even friends anymore. He looked so embarrassed after kissing you. He agreed it was a dumb idea. He told you it was a mistake.

A mistake.

So, he can fuck off. You can do what you want, and right now, that's going to get another shot.

You walk out and back over to your friends, ignoring the mildly concerned looks on both of their faces.

"YN…" Seth begins, stopping his movements from behind Eva.

"Please don't. I'm fine." You respond, beginning to dance and twirl around with his girlfriend. Seth offers to grab some water for everyone and leaves the two of you on the dancefloor.

You glare at the back of his head, quickly following his footsteps towards the bar.

"Three waters please." You hear him state.

"And another shot!" You add, crossing your arms as he glares back at you, as if you're locked in some kind of parent-child standoff.

You grab the shot glass and instantly shoot it back, taping it on the countertop to ask for another. You turn back to Seth with a smug look on your face, at least you're hoping that's what you are portraying, but you notice his gaze is focusing just behind you.

Your shoulder becomes warm and weighted with a palm twisting you around, and you turn to be met with those glistening green eyes.

"Oh, what the fuck. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here, YN?" Harry asks, his hand still firmly, but somehow also tenderly, on your shoulder. You hate yourself that just this simple touch is getting your heart fluttering again.

"I'm having fun… with my friends… nothing new."

"Oh really? Since when do you go to clubs, and knock back shots like there's no tomorrow?" That familiar furrow of his brow appears and your instinct wants to smooth it out. But your anger quickly convinces you otherwise.

"Since tonight." You reply, crossing your arms again and doing your best to stand your ground. Physically and metaphorically.

"I think I should take you home." He suggests, moving his hand down your arm and gently holding your hand.

"I think you should fuck off!" You begin to shout, yanking your hand from his hold, letting the alcohol take over your judgment and your tongue.

Harry steps back and you can read the disbelief all over his face, as if it were an open book sitting right in front of you. If you're honest, you are a bit shocked by yourself too. You've never spoken to him like that before. Fought with him? Of course. You've known each other so long, that's only normal. But that? A statement like that isn't normal for you to make towards him. To be fair though, not much about this night has been normal.

"Come on, please. Let's get you home." He reaches out for your hand again, and once again, you pull it away.

"No!" You shout.

"Fine." He throws up his hands, never being one to push or force you to do anything you don't want to do. He turns around and begins to walk out of the club, but with the alcohol and the frustration mixing together, you huff and begin to follow him outside.

"Hey!" You yell from behind him, the cold air hitting your very heated face instantly, and causing a chill to spike all over your body.

He stops immediately, not turning around as you catch up to him, forcing you to move in front of him and stare into his eyes as if you were the one towering over the other.

"Yes?"

"You…" You begin to pant from the exertion from following him, and the cold air penetrating your bones. "You don't just… you don't just get to come here and... and act all protective and shit!"

"Why wouldn't I?" He scowls, suddenly switching back to the one who towers over you. "You're my best friend, YN! And you're wasted. I talked to Eva and Seth, they were worried about you."

"Right, Eva and Seth. Who I'm here with. Not you." You growl, glaring into his eyes as if to actually pierce your frustration into them.

"YN, I was worried about you too."

"I'm fine!"

"Yeah, you keep saying that…"

"And I… I am! You don't have to worry… not about me. You shouldn't fucking be here. You should be with… Chloe. "

"Is that why you left the party all of a sudden?"

"I left because… you got what you wanted! You didn't need me anymore!" You yell, feeling a mild heat return to your body as the alcohol reignites the absolute flustering anger.

"I did." He replies softly, taking a step closer so that his warm breath steams over your face. You momentarily close your eyes and the sensation washes over you. "I wanted you there."

"Are you really that selfish, H?" You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, partly because of the temperature, but mainly to protect yourself. To protect your heart. "I did it… what you asked me to do… and you got what you wanted… you got Chloe…"

"I don't-"

"I didn't need to stick around… I didn't want to stick around!" Your tongue becomes numb and you can't seem to control the words as they spill out. "I didn't want to just stand off to the side… and watch you with her!"

"What?"

"Nevermind." You drop your gaze, hoping that you can get clear headed soon before you say something as dumb as the plan he had come up with. "I should've… I shouldn't have gone along with it. It was such a stupid idea!"

"YN…"

"You said it! It was a mistake!"

"Babe, please…"

"Don't call me that." You state sternly, lifting your gaze with the deepest furrow in your brow. Would he smooth it like you did for him earlier? No.

"What?"

"Don't call me babe. I'm not your babe." You take two more steps back and pull out your phone to call for an Uber. "Babe is for someone you're with, actually with. We're not together. I'm not your babe. It was just pretend."

"I've called you that for forever…" He replies, softening his tone as he steps a little closer, causing your breath to exit and forget how to reenter. How does he always manage to take your breath away?

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have."

"YN, come on, you're drunk. Please let me take you home." He pleads, wrapping his hand around yours and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You look down at the gesture, feeling your cold demeanor begin to melt at the touch you've become accustomed to over the past week.

"No. I have a ride. Just go back to the party. Go back to Chloe." You grimace as her name leaves your lips, and your hand leaves his. "I've done my part in all… this.

"You know what, YN? You agreed to do it! But you clearly didn't want to and you didn't have to either. So whatever it is you're angry about, you can't blame me."

"Fuck off." You take every last ounce of self-control that you have to stop yourself from explaining why you're so hurt and admitting to what you've been feeling for years. It could only make things worse at this point. You sigh and look down at your feet, wishing you could be swallowed up by the pavement.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I knew that this, all of this, was gonna happen." He steps back and puts even more distance between the two of you and your heart sinks. Now it feels awkward. Now it feels wrong. "It was definitely a mistake."

"Definitely a mistake." You whisper back.

A car pulls up right in front of the two of you, and you know it's your ride. You look between the vehicle and Harry, not knowing which one to step towards.

"So, this… this is it." He crosses his arms over his chest, beginning to tap the back of one foot with the toes of the other, and clears his throat.

You step backwards towards the car. You didn't think this night could've gotten any worse, yet here it is.

"Goodnight, H." You state quietly, turning to grab the door handle, opening it, and looking back one more time at your best friend. If you can still call him that.

×××

The next day was painful for so many reasons, and the hurt just continued through that week. And then the next.

With how much you drank, you would think the night would be a blur, but the universe and your mind are cruel. You remember all of it. Feeling good with Harry, feeling hurt seeing him with Chloe, feeling distracted with Trevor, feeling ecstasy kissing your best friend, feeling embarrassed by his rejection, feeling way too drunk, feeling angry, and feeling hurt. Then, feeling nothing.

Nothing has been the same. Harry didn't walk you to any classes, or bring you coffee, or sit with you at lunch. He didn't come over every other night just to hang out, share food, and watch TV. He didn't call. He didn't text. Nothing. Nothing has been the same these past two weeks.

You had told your friends that you wanted to avoid any more parties, but with a bit of begging, Eva convinced you to go to Seth's birthday party. It was hard to say no to your second best friends, or maybe first now, especially when they mentioned that Harry never responded to their invite. It's not too surprising. He wouldn't want to be where you are.

So, you can be comforted by the fact that Harry won't be there. Although, 'comforted' feels like the wrong word. But Seth's parent's house is more modest, and you'll know a lot more people at this party, which should help you to relax even by a miniscule amount.

At least, you hoped it would. But whenever someone new walks through the door, your eyes dart over towards them. Your heart stops each time, until their name is spoken or you see their face.

You would grab a drink, but the anxiety building within is enough to fill you up, and you probably couldn't stomach it anyway. Plus you figure it'll be easier to leave the party early, since you are suspecting your ability and desire to hang out with everyone will be minimal.

×××

Whether it's the size of the house, or the actual number of people in attendance, this party feels a lot bigger than the previous ones at Layla's house. You've only talked to maybe a handful of people in this large crowd, but are overwhelmed enough to need some space.

You walk up to Eva and lean in to be heard over the music.

"I'm gonna get some fresh air." You quickly state, hoping your volume is enough for her to hear, but quiet enough for others not to. You'd rather be alone.

"Oh. Okay. But-"

"I'm not leaving…" You chuckle, knowing she wants you to stay as long as she can manage to. "I'm just going to the backyard."

"Okay…" She replies, her tone causing a mild curiosity in you, but brushing it off as just her drunken state.

You turn around and squeeze your way through the crowds of friends that Seth and Eva seem to have accumulated over the years. You don't know if you have even half the amount of friends they have here. One person seems to have taken away the need for a large group of friends. With just him, and a couple of close others, you've felt fulfilled. Complete.

Maybe you shouldn't take too long of a break. Maybe you should recharge quickly and get back in there. Maybe you'll need to start finding some new friends to fill that empty void you now have in your life.

No one else seems to be outside, much to your delight, and you catch a quick glimpse of a patio swing out of the corner of your eye, which you immediately decide is the place you want to be.

You walk around the outside furniture and barbeque, but stop as you look up to the swing.

Harry is there. Right there.

You can't tell if the sudden inability to breathe is due to an excitement to see the person you've been missing for two weeks, or anxiety seeing the person you were completely embarrassed and rejected by two weeks ago.

"YN?" He whispers quietly, his eyes wide at the sight of you.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't…" You begin to back up with very small steps. "I didn't know you were here."

He sighs, and it's potentially the saddest one you've heard, but that's the only thing that comes from him.

"I was just, umm, trying to get some air. But I'll… come back out later." You add. The reason to come outside was to relax, and clearly that won't happen for either of you if you stay. You turn around and head back inside, the emptiness in your friendship creating an emptiness in your heart.

Tears begin to cloud your vision. You do your best to guide yourself through the group of bodies to find a safe haven for yourself. The guest bathroom has a crowd forming outside of it, but you remember an office being close by. So through your blurry view, you fumble your way to the, thankfully, unlocked door and quickly close it as soon as you enter.

You take several steps forward, resting your palms on the wide, wood desk, and pull in some deep breaths. They don't last long as the door begins to creak open.

"Sorry, no one should be in-" Your words are halted as you turn around and are met with the most beautiful face. The face you're so familiar with, the face you've missed a lot, the face you love so much. "Oh."

"Hi."

"Can we talk, please?" He asks shyly, his head down and hand gripping the handle, only halfway through the doorway.

"I didn't think you'd-" You mumble back with a shaky breath, nodding and waving him into the room, watching as he hurriedly steps in, closes the door, and locks it.

He takes one step closer, still leaving an upsetting amount of distance between the two of you. But you understand. Last time you were close, too close, which didn't end well. Even though it was an incredible moment for those few seconds.

You shake your thoughts out as you are snapped back into the current moment by the clearing of his throat. You cross your arms around your body, a reflex to keep yourself together.

"What… happened?" He jumps right in, and you are so taken aback that you can't even decipher the context of his question.

"What do you mean?"

"That last party… it seemed to ruin everything. Things are so fucked up now."

Your eyes grow wide in shock. You figured he is just as embarrassed as you are, maybe a bit upset from your fight at the club, but you didn't think he'd feel like this. This intense. This harsh.

"I told you that plan was dumb." You respond, not completely meaning to make the statement aloud.

"Yeah, I get it." He frowns as he stares at the ground, clearly not even being able to look at you now. That hurts. "It was a huge mistake."

That hurts even more.

"You shouldn't have asked me."

"You shouldn't have said yes!"

"You shouldn't have kiss-"

You quickly shut your mouth, regretting those words, not meaning to bring it up and not wanting to admit that it means anything to you when it didn't mean anything to him.

"I shouldn't have kissed you." He finishes your thought with a shallow breath. You can see his regret, you assumed that was how he felt, but it still hurts. Not only because it meant something to you, and not to him, but because this is what it has caused. An awkwardness between you two. Between you and your best friend.

But anger begins to boil at the fact that this was all because of him and his stupid plan to win over some other girl. And that he only kissed you like that after seeing you hang out with another guy.

"So then why did you? Why did you kiss me?"

"You were with that other guy… you were supposed to… be with… me."

"Why did that matter? You were with Chloe! You got her! You got what you wanted!"

"I didn't get her. And I didn't get what I wanted."

"Oh my god, then I'm so fucking sorry if I messed things up for you with her!" You scoff, rolling your eyes at how pathetic this all is.

"I don't want to be with her!" He growls, running his hands down his face, then back up to run through his hair.

"Then what the hell is it, Harry? What the hell do you want that you didn't get?"

"You! For sucks sake! You! I want you, YN!" He growls.

"What?!"

"All I've wanted to do since that kiss… is kiss you again. And again." He moves towards you again, close enough now so that you can feel his warmth, and inhale his sultry dark scent, and feel that familiar tingle down your spine. "And again."

"But… we're friends…"

"Yeah. We are..."

Your body kicks into fight or flight mode, but is frozen in place. You have no idea where this is going and you're not sure if you want to know.

"Look, YN, I miss hanging out with you, and joking with you, and just talking with you. But now…" He sighs, stepping closer and closer until you can feel his breath on your face. "But now I also miss holding you, and making you blush, and kissing you."

Your breath hitches at his confession, your mind racing and your heart pounding.

"I… I thought we were just… pretending."

"I wasn't." He shakes his head, reaching his hands out to gently hold yours. "Maybe at first, because I was an idiot. But being with each other and doing all those couple-y things together made me realize I already had everything I wanted… with you."

"Harry, I-"

"I didn't even want to be with Chloe by that second party." He clears his throat and his admission causes your heart to flutter. "And she cornered me in the kitchen. I couldn't get away. All… all I wanted to do was be around you."

"Oh-"

"And when I got free, and you were with that guy, I snapped." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I guess I kissed you because… I wanted… dunno. You pushed me away and I should've left it at that but I couldn't. I didn't want to stop. But after the second one, you gave me that look and I got scared that you didn't feel the same. That you didn't want more."

"But I-"

"If you don't, I can live with that. I don't wanna lose you. I need you in my life. You're my best friend."

"But I-"

"But I wanna be more." He admits, squeezing his eyes shut as he squeezes your hands. "I want more than that, and I just need to know-"

"Can you just stop talking?" You exclaim, taking your hands back and moving them up to his shoulders. His eyes grow wide, with an expression of mixed emotions. "Let me have a turn."

"Okay…"

"I got jealous. So jealous. I hated the plan. I hated seeing you around another girl, and wanting another girl. Because I want more. With you. And… I have for a long time."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Fair enough." He answers quietly with a small smile. "S'pose I just didn't want to lose you."

"Me either." You reply, a rush of pink appearing on your cheeks as you dip your gaze. A silence falls in the room, despite all the loud noises just outside the door.

"Do you want to be together?" He asks shyly.

Your brow furrows with sudden concern when you look back up to him, and his expression instantly matches yours. "Being together will change everything, Harry…"

"I don't think that's true." He shakes his head, using his thumb to smooth out the crease in your forehead, just like you did with him before. "It feels natural between us. We are comfortable with each other, we know each other, and we already spend lots of time with each other. This would just add… extra… perks…"

"Oh really?" You smirk, a tingle running through your body. "Like what?"

"Answer me first." He whispers, closing the gap between the two of you and resting his forehead on yours. He places both palms on your cheeks, giving you every sense of comfort and excitement possible. "I need to know what you want."

"I want to be together."

"Yeah?"

You nod.

He pulls back while his eyes flicker down to your lips and he grazes them with his own. All the breath in your body leaves in that moment and your hands work their way up to the nape of his neck. Eyes locked on each other, you could swear that your heartbeats are the only noise that can be heard.

"Harry-"

Your words are cut off by the feeling of his plush lips firmly on yours. Again. But this time, much better.

"Is this okay?" He asks as he pulls away, just enough to give you two some space to catch a breath.

"Yes." You giggle, twirling your fingers into his hair. You could get lost in his curls and not even mind. "Now, kiss me again."

His dimples pops in quickly before your face is pulled back to his with one hand, and your body pulled in with the other.

Your lips meet again, passionate and desperate, as if they've been starved since the last time they met. His hands waste no time and begin to roam your body wildly. Rubbing your back, moving down your waist, grabbing your hips, and gliding over your ass. If you thought any of the other times he touched you were exciting, this was absolutely overwhelming.

His body presses further into yours, causing you to slide up onto the desk behind you. Your lips are parted by his tongue and each movement raises in intensity. One hand moves to your knee, slowly making its way up your thigh and every ounce of heat in your body travels to your core.

His lips leave yours and move along your jaw, landing right under your ear.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Ye-... Yes." You utter, eyes closed as his breath hits your skin.

His hand slides further up and you've never been more grateful that you chose to wear a skirt, as you feel him squeeze his way to your core. He grazes two fingers over your drenched panties and lets out a pleased exhale.

"Bloody hell." He whispers, as you feel a smile against your skin in triumph. His fingers run up and down, teasing you, and creating an unbearable yearning within.

"H…"

"You want it?" He asks, with the low, deep tone that makes your knees weak.

"Yes." You whine, opening your eyes to look at him and not only show your sincerity, but also your desire. "Please, yes."

He slips in your panties, running his fingers along you again, your bare skin excited by the touch. Your breath hitches as his fingers dip slightly into your folds.

"Harry, please…" You plead, letting out a soft moan as they enter you and you feel the coldness of his rings hit your entrance. "Oh my god!"

"You're so damn wet." He utters, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. The actual touch, and the knowledge that it's finally happening with Harry, quickly builds the pleasurable pressure that he's giving you.

Words escape you. The sensation is taking over. You don't even realize you've made any sort of movement until your eyes snap open at the feeling of his hard bulge trapped within his pants. He growls as you palm him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck… YN…"

Your fingers move to the button of his pants, surprisingly able to undo it without any trouble, and as you pull down his underwear, his cock springs out of its confines. Your eyes shoot down as you wrap your hand around it. He is big. Thick and long. You've only ever imagined what he was like. You knew it wouldn't be disappointing, there was no way. But the actual view of his cock within your grasp causes your breath to hitch, and with his fingers inside of you, you get even closer to reaching your peak.

He moans as you pump your hand. You moan as he thrusts his fingers. Your noises being drowned out to others by the thumping music throughout the rest of the house, and only being shared between the two of you.

Harry curls his fingers up, immediately hitting your most sensitive spot. Your body shudders and you throw your head back as an exuberant exhale leaves your lips. He thrusts faster, curling up each time, and your thighs squeeze together as your orgasm draws closer. He spreads your legs apart slightly and wraps his free hand around your back, pulling you as close to him as possible and getting deeper with the access.

"Oh my go-… Harry… I'm abou- t- cu-"

"Go on. I wanna feel it, babe."

With the nickname that you have so desperately wished meant something more to him, being uttered from him in exactly the way you've wanted it, your orgasm tips over and your walls squeeze Harry's fingers as if they're trapping them there forever. You moan out again, and again, as the ecstasy floods over you.

Your free hand grips onto the desk for leverage, keeping your body upright and stable, as you do your best to continue your motions around his cock.

"Harry! Oh my god!" You exclaim, still panting yet opening your eyes to see the widest grin on his face. "That was… so…"

"Good?" He chuckles, biting down on his lower lip.

"Amazing!" You reply with a breathy giggle.

His mouth falls open and his eyes close as both of your focus fully turns to your work on his cock.

"YN… fuck…"

He pulls into your body again, grabbing your hips as he kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.

"M'gonna… fuck… I dunno where to… to cum." He mumbles between moans.

You push on his body, sliding off the desk. He lifts his head up and you smile when you see his blown out pupils.

"Can I…?" You begin to ask, both looking down to where you hold and stroke him.

His eyes snap back up to yours, desire and concern written all over his face.

"Are you… sure? You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Fucks sake. Okay. Yes. Yes."

You lower yourself down to your knees, looking up through your lashes as you notice him swallow hard at the sight of you.

"Are you sure?"

He nods, exhaling strongly, his chest rising and falling faster as you stick out your tongue to lick his leaking tip. You lick up his base before taking him in, his cock filling your mouth so much that you try not to gag immediately.

"S'alright." He mutters, starting to pull away.

"Don't move." You state, grabbing his hip to keep him in place. "You're big, H. I just need to get used to it."

He growls at the compliment and grabs your hair. You move slowly back onto him, stroking in rhythm with your hand, and getting him deeper each time your mouth takes him in.

"Oh my-... god."

He begins to subtly pump himself in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you have to pull off quickly.

"M'sorry."

"Keep going."

"What?"

"Keep doing it."

"Bloody hell."

You take him in again, adjusting to his soft thrusts, humming against him as he gets deeper.

"Fuck… m'gonna… m'gon-..."

You cup his balls, which sends him over the edge with a loud moan, feeling his warm release spill down your throat.

"Oh my god, YN." He whimpers, his eyes fixed down on you as he thrusts in deep, making sure you swallow every last drop.

You pull off once he's done, kissing his fern tattoos, and pushing yourself back up to kiss his cheek.

"M'sorry babe." He whispers, still attempting to catch his breath.

"Sorry for what?" You ask, suddenly worried that this may have been another mistake to him.

"M'sorry we didn't figure this out sooner." He smirks, running his thumb along your lips and placing his firmly against them.

"Better late than never." You smile, entangling your fingers back in his hair, deciding to make it their permanent home.

He tilts your chin up to look him straight in the eyes. "You are incredible. That… was incredible."

"What are best friends for?" You chuckle, sticking your tongue out between your teeth, but pulling it back in when you see him frown.

"It's what girlfriends are for."

"Yeah?" You ask and watch him nod, peppering kisses on your lips and cheeks, making you giggle. He pulls away and his gaze flickers between each of your eyes.

"I do have one more favor to ask, though." He states quietly.

"Oh god." You chuckle, not anxious in the least at what this request could be. "What is it?"

"Let me take you on a proper date."

You grin widely, matched by one from him, and you press your lips firmly together, now addicted to the feeling that you've been dreaming of for so long. Butterflies awaken in your stomach at his request, and you nod when you see the amount of anticipation splashed all over his face. You kiss his forehead and rest yours against it.

"I can do that."

~~~~~

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xirayn · 8 months

Text

Steddie dads: the origin of Sam

"I want a baby."

Steve nearly chokes on his sandwich as his brain tries to process Robin - staunch feminist and critic of gender roles - wanting a baby. He knows she loves her career traveling the world as a translator and interpreter, and baby doesn't exactly fit into that. He barely fits beyond letters and lunches during long layovers in Chicago like the one they are currently having.

"You?" he asks after a few coughs to direct the bite of sandwich down the correct tube. "A baby? Why?"

"It just seems like an amazing experience. You bring a literal human being into this world and get to watch them grow and become their own person. They're part of you, but completely independent with their own thoughts and feelings and future. Like, they start as basically a parasite, then they learn to walk and talk and explore the world and question and read and get their own sense of humor and ideas -"

"I know, Robin." Steve sighs. He knows she isn't trying to hurt him, but her words do all the same. It is why he wants a kid. Nurturing a child and watching them grow is a dream he has given up on. "Eddie and I have wanted kids for a long time, but -" It isn't feasible for them. Not now. This is about Robin, though. "A kid isn't going to fit into your jet-setting lifestyle."

"I said I wanted to have a baby, not raise a kid." Robin steals a fry off his plate. Steve rolls his eyes.

"I don't think you can do that."

"Why not? Men do it all the time." She pops the fry into her mouth.

"Because they have a wife or nanny or someone who will raise their kid."

Robin smiles as she chews. Her expression encourages him toward the solution for a puzzle she has already solved. He studies her, replaying their conversation back in search for what has been left unsaid. Robin wants to have a baby for someone else to raise. Men have kids they leave to be raised by their wives or someone they've hired. Not all, of course, though men are still praised for doing something as basic as babysitting as if it isn't their own child they are watching. Robin doesn't have a wife and wouldn't have a child just to pay someone to raise them...

Steve and Eddie want to raise a child.

His mouth forms a circle of revelation. The love he has for Robin swells in his chest. Her face softens as she watches him understand what she is offering.

"I want to have your baby," Robin tells him softly, almost cautiously, as if he might reject the gift she is offering him. Naturally, she tries to cover with a tumble of words. "Not the traditional way. That would be - ew. There are other ways, though. My friends Alex and Clara did it. Alex's brother jacked off into a cup in another room, then Clara took it and, just, put it up there."

"Like with a turkey baster?" It is the dumbest thing Steve could ask, but it eases the tension developing in Robin's shoulders.

"No, Dingus," she laughs. "There is this latex cup used for periods they used. Sample goes in the cup, cup goes by the cervix, nature does the rest."

"And by sample, you mean jizz."

"Ew. No. Don't call it that." She gags and waves her hands in front of her. Steve shakes his head with a fond smirk.

"What? That's what it is."

"Sure, for sex, but I want to keep everything as non-sexual as possible. Whatever you do in your room stays in your room."

Steve chuckles. He is still caught in the mix of wonder and happiness at the idea. A child with his best friend actually sounds pretty great, especially when he gets to raise them with his would-be spouse.

"I have to talk to Eddie about it," he says. He already knows the answer, though. They have already talked about it and taken the steps to discover it wasn't feasible for them; not until now.

"Duh." There is nothing but affection and good humor in Robin's voice. "I'm going to be in Cannes for three months. I was planning on taking some time off afterward, so you better have the guest room ready."

Steve laughs. "It's never not ready, but I'll make sure it's free."

"Good." Robin glances at her watch. She digs in her bag for some crumpled bills to put on the table. "I have to go. My flight is boarding in a half hour and on the other side of the airport . I'll send you a postcard when I get there."

"Sounds good." Steve stands to give her a hug.

He enjoys the postcards, he and Eddie were even saving up to go sightseeing with her in Europe. They can wait for that to be a family trip, though.

#platonic stobin #steddie #steddie dads

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dumbestthingiveeverheard · 10 months

Text

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 7/12/2023

Third Place: Charlie Kirk

Reacting to a trailer for the new adult animated series Praise Petey, Kirk tweeted the following today:

Of course, if Kirk had actually watched the trailer, he would have found it was produced by Mike Judge--the conservative cartoonist who is good friends with Alex Jones.

Also, judging (hehe) by the trailer, the cartoon appears to be about a woman who inherited a deranged cult from her father--and is trying to reform it into something nowhere near as evil. The trailer even makes note that the daughter is banning human sacrifices as one of her first acts as leader. If anything, this should make people like Charlie more like to approve the show, not less.

Oh, and somebody in the right-wing Twitter-sphere said Charlie plagiarized his tweet from them.

Second place: Matt Walsh

Remember Matt's truly absurd thread from a few weeks ago which said that the modern transgender rights movement has its roots in Nazism?

Well it turns out that notion has earned a new critic: The far right. Media Matters notes that on yesterday's edition of Fresh & Fit, a right-wing dating podcast found on Rumble which has Nick Fuentes as one of its hosts, this happened during a stream where many of the hosts engaging in denial of the Holocaust:

During the same stream, Gaines and guest Sneako, a Fuentes ally and “manosphere” figure tied to Ye West, justified Nazi book burnings, saying that “when there’s photos of the Nazis burning books, it’s books on homosexuality and transgenderism.”

Sneako then railed against The Daily Wire’s Matt Walsh for saying that transgender identity was invented by Nazi scientists, instead claiming that it was a Jewish conspiracy. He added, “Why would you lie about that? Who told you -- who gave Matt the call? Matt got the call.”

One of my favorite sights has always been the right calling something they don't like Nazism, only for the actual Nazis to inform them they're full of shit.

Winner: Doug Burgum

The North Carolina Governor currently running for President as a Republican has a genius idea to get into the debates: Pay people! You see, in order to get into the Republican debates you need at least 50,000 donations of at least one dollar--so he decided to make a deal where the first 50,000 people to donate one dollar to his campaign will get a twenty dollar gift card of their choice.

You know, people talk about the impact of money in politics--but this is the first time I can think of where we've seen a federal Presidential candidate literally pay people to donate to him. NPR reported today that this might violate prohibitions on straw donations, but even if it does most currently understand that he will not be prosecuted for this--including Burgum, hence why he's doing it openly.

However, the openness of this--put together with the truly pathetic nature of what he's done--is at the very least likely to make voters not support him, which is the only thing that actually matters in an election.

Doug Burgum, you've said the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

#charlie kirk #matt walsh #doug burgum

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Note

Omg requests are open AAAHHH

may i request an oblivious oc and tsundere yoongi who likes holding oc's hands and idk like maybe oc thinks it's bc his hands are cold and his friends make fun of him and oc only realizes yoongi likes her when they spill his secret

as a yoongi stan, this is my guilty pleasure and this absolutely KILLED ME ily for asking this 🤣and double update today???? who am I?????

hope you enjoy this v fluffy and v yoongi piece <3

pairing: tsundere!yoongi x oblivious&clumsy!oc

genre: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF

warnings: lots of squealing into ur pillow moments. taehyung, jimin & jin being the saviours tbh

words: 3, 136

Yoongi is staring at you like you spilt milk over his favourite pair of sneakers and you have no idea what to make of it.

“Uh …” You drag, blinking up at him with wide eyes when all he does is level you with a blank stare.

You can hear the distinct chatter of your friends in the background, likely already having their go skating around the rink. They always left you and Yoongi alone, for whatever reason it may be. But you weren’t complaining, you wanted to give him your gift in private!

But when Yoongi only stares at the mass of knit in your palms as you hold it out to him, you can only feel your ears flush an embarrassing shade of red at the subtle gesture of rejection.

Yoongi was by no means a malicious person, but he was very clear-cut. He was straightforward and it was definitely one of his qualities that you admired the most about him. His ability to mitigate any situation, or look at things objectively was something that you struggled with for the most part of your life. Which is why some people would mistake him for cold or uncaring, but you knew better.

“Do you … do you not like it?” You ask meekly, eyes darting everywhere but his as they continue to stare you down.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs your hands with his larger palm where your gift lays and observes it, scrutinises it as if he’s there to pick apart any stray strand of yarn. His hand, despite his exterior, is soft and gentle when he holds you; and your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds when he traces a thumb over your knuckles.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Your eyes dart down to your hands and somehow you find them in a familiar position. His fingers intertwined with yours and his palm engulfing yours entirely.

“T-Then why don’t you—” You try to pull away, making an effort to dangle your hand-woven mittens in front of him in hopes of attracting his appeal towards it.

But he doesn’t even bat an eye, just sighs and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I’m holding your hand.” He says pointedly, shooting you a serious stare.

You stutter for a response, and despite the chill in the air you hope he can allude to the redness of your cheeks a result of the wind that blows past you and not the flustered state you find yourself in when he tugs your body closer to his.

You suppose you found a bad spot to give him the mittens because you nearly stumble into his chest at how wobbly you are on skates. You planned his gift for weeks, fully aware that your group of friends was intending on coming to ice-skate.

“I’m really bad at ice-skating. I’ll just slow you down.” You huff with a frown, still attempting to tug your hand away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I literally don’t care.”

You gape at his bluntness and scowl when he only offers you a lazy smirk. His hand is still tightly wrapped around your own, and you sigh, knowing that it was hopeless to fight against Yoongi when he was far stronger than you were.

“I can skate with Tae or something, he and I are pretty much—“

“No.” Yoongi blinks.

You splutter, “E-Excuse—?”

He snatches the mittens from your other hand and shoves them into his pocket. The action is so quick that you can barely register the way Yoongi is tugging your forehead as you flounder on your feet, already feeling unstable at the way the ice is set on making you fall.

But Yoongi is there like he always is, and he rests a gentle palm on your waist and shoots you a rare and soft smile that makes your heart weak.

“I’ll teach you.” He says it like it’s obvious, “Just hold my hand.”

“Yoongi, I really don’t think—” You weakly protest when he pulls you closer until you’re nestled comfortably by his side, his face set forward as he blatantly ignores you.

“Stop being so stubborn and hold on tight.” He scolds, squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers loosen its grip.

You pout, your other hand patting your cheek in hopes of easing the burning of your cheeks.

Lest to say, you are horrid at ice-skating and you wished you stayed home.

Your two left feet was probably the least interesting thing about you, yet it was the one thing that left a lasting impression on the people you’ve met. Whether it be because you tripped up a flight of stairs as you rushed to your next lecture, or if you accidentally torpedoed into a bush while you were attempting to penny

“How are you even real?” He huffs, fingers intertwined tightly with your own. You’re grateful he has a lethal grip on you because you don’t think you’re ready to be doused in ice, even if it was at your own accord.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, hand still clasped with his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go, even if you’re stable on your feet. He never does. He only holds your hand tighter, grumbling something about your clumsiness as he uses his spare hand to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulders. When he shoots you a look, you feel very much like a scolded child as you pout up at his narrowed eyes.

“What would you do if I wasn’t holding your hand, huh?” He laments, eyes rolling while he tugs you towards the direction of your friends who have somehow all gathered at the corner of the rink.

You stare at your feet, tittering to keep up with his long strides as he keeps the hold on your hand firm.

“Look, I don’t ask to be swept away—!” You retort petulantly, but Yoongi completely ignores you as he squeezes your hand in response, right as he stops in front of your friends.

You’re still sulking when Yoongi doesn’t let go, shooting you a look that has you pursing your lips shut.

“Lovely for the two of you to join us,” Jimin snorts.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you miss the lethal glare he shoots at your mutual friend.

“I’m sorry that my skating skills can’t keep up with you,” You huff.

You see Jin’s eyes dart down to your intertwined hands, before looking up; a knowing smirk on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Seems like Yoongi has it all settled.” He snickers, nudging Jimin by the side.

You can feel Yoongi roll his eyes next to you, even if you pout at Jin’s words.

“At this rate, I think you’re basically joined by the hands,” Jimin says smugly.

You blink.

“She’ll fall,” Yoongi says blankly.

“Look, I said I’d skate with Tae but he’s so adamant!” You cry.

Yoongi shoots you a dry glare, before briefly releasing your hand. You splutter for a second, surprised at the sudden coldness that engulfs your grip and the emptiness that you feel when he no longer has his fingers intertwined with your own.

“What—?” You furrow your brows but Yoongi pats you on the hand to ease your confusion.

“I’m getting you hot chocolate. Your hands are freezing.” He murmurs, and to prove his point; he grabs your fingers and rubs soothing circles on your knuckles to provide you with any warmth he could.

If your hands weren’t warm, then your cheeks definitely were. You couldn’t hold eye contact with Yoongi because he was staring at you so intently that you may have been the one to melt into a puddle on the ice.

“But the mittens—!” You call, but he’s already skating away to the confectionary stand where they sell hot chocolate.

You sigh, dejected as you frown. Did he really hate the mittens that much?

“You are so stupid.” Jin gawks at you with a shake of his head.

You turn your head so fast that you nearly fall over, but Jimin’s grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so.

“And clumsy, God, no wonder hyung won’t let you go.” He scolds.

You frown, “Hey! What the hell is up with the slander?” You whine.

Taehyung stumbles into the conversation, quite literally almost smashing his body against the divider but he manages to balance himself by gripping the hell out of Jin’s shoulders.

“You deserve it,” He sticks his tongue out as you gape at him.

“What?! Why?” You hiss, “You literally just entered the conversation!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “And I’ve had to see you and hyung doddle around each other for ages so spare me the fucking brain cells because clearly, you need it more than I do.”

“What—?” You splutter.

“You are literally the densest person on this planet.” Jin blinks.

“What are you guys even talking about?” You cry.

Jimin shoots you a dry look, willing the God’s above to give you a semblance of rationality or logic to put two and two together.

“The hand-holding? The constant going out of his way to do things for you? The fact that you’re the only person he’ll ever smile at even if you do the dumbest shit ever?” Taehyung exasperates.

You blink.

“It’s winter and his fingers get really cold—!”

Jin groans, tugging at his hair in frustration.

“No, you idiot! Yoongi literally doesn’t get cold. He’s the human equivalent of a furnace! He literally doesn’t give a shit if he freezes to death. The only reason why he ever holds your hand is that he wants to!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulder as he shakes your body while you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Does that mean—?

“He hates the mittens?” You cry, face crumbling.

You see Taehyung, Jimin and Jin’s face fall as they all share a look of disbelief.

“I’m sorry but I have no way to defend you.” Jimin blinks.

“I just wanted to do something nice for him! He’s always taking care of me and I thought knitting him a pair of mittens would help with the cold …” You mumble, eyes darting down to your feet as your voice trails off into a whisper.

“Okay, I know I promised hyung I wouldn’t say anything until she figured it out herself but I can’t take it anymore.” Taehyung seethes to the other boys.

Your eyes dart up, furrowing in confusion as Jimin and Jin’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s statement.

“Figured what—?”

“Dude, Yoongi is going to kill you,” Jin warns.

Taehyung scoffs, “Like I give a shit. I’m losing brain cells listening to her speak so this is an act of self-preservation. He’s going to thank me and so are you.”

“What are you—?” You huff.

“Yoongi likes you!” He exasperates, throwing his hands into his air.

The silence is overwhelming, as the four of you simply blink at each other. Your brain is processing his words, but it doesn’t really make sense. You’re confused as you attempt to deduce the meaning behind it until you come to a conclusion—

You look over at Jimin, “Are the two of you—?”

Jimin wants to scream.

“No, oh my God! Yoongi likes you! You!” He shakes you so hard that your head spins, “He likes you so much it’s disgusting and cute so you better do something about it and not accustom us to this torture anymore, okay?!”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You blink up, and you see Yoongi offering you a cup of hot chocolate, eyeing the rest of the boys weirdly as they stand there with tightened expressions.

“Here you go,” He says softly, helping you blow onto the steaming cup before gently placing it into your hand.

It warms you up immediately, and you only then managed to piece together what Taehyung and Jimin just told you. The realisation dawns upon you as a scandalised expression makes its way onto your face. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, observing the odd behaviour of the four of you as the three boys ignore his pointed gaze.

“L-Let’s go take a seat,” You stutter, pushing on his chest with your free hand as you attempt to skate away from the wandering eyes. The pressure was too much.

“Hey, hold on, you’ll fall.” He gently chides, doing what comes as second nature to him as he grabs your other hand, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

As the two of you skate away, you miss the sighs that leave the three boys’ lips.

“So, is there a reason why you tried to skate away like you were an Olympian?” Yoongi asks when the two of you managed to settle down in a small bench outside of the rink, tucked a decent distance away.

You look down at your palms, squeezing around the hot chocolate as you pay attention to the steam that escapes the surface.

The words from Jimin was essentially still haunting you, and you wondered if this was some sick joke of his to get back at you for mixing up his toothpaste with his shampoo a few months back. You sulk because this was a really mean joke and your feelings were about to get really hurt if he was lying to you.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, hand reaching out to tilt your chin up to look at him. His stare is so intense that you find yourself cowering away, cheeks red and embarrassed. “Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I-I … there’s nothing wrong!” You squeak, eyes travelling and landing on different people that wasn’t Yoongi. Anyone that wouldn’t cause your insides to melt with just his gaze alone.

Yoongi purses his lips in disapproval, sighing before he sets his hot chocolate by the table next to the bench and turns to face you. You knew that you had no place to run, especially when Yoongi essentially traps you with his eyes, observing your every move.

“You’re shaking.” He points out.

And only then do you realise that you were shaking, and your hands were basically vibrating with the hot chocolate. You cursed at yourself, and the cold.

“I-I’m cold.” You chatter.

Yoongi frowns, reaching out his hand to immediately grab your own to warm them up. But when you spot his hands, you squeak, immediately retracting them as if he was about to bite them off.

You realise how it looks, and you notice the slight drop in Yoongi’s expression when you reacted the way you did.

“Are you—?” He begins to ask, slow and tentative.

“Not my hands!” You blurt out.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he relaxes his posture and raises a brow at you in questioning.

“Okay …?” He drags, “Where are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” He asks.

You curse at yourself because you didn’t know how to get yourself out of this situation. Especially now that Yoongi was patiently waiting for your response. Your thighs were essentially brushed up against each other, and his body was leaned over ever so slightly that you catch every strand of eyelashes on his eyes.

You were so weak.

“N-No, I … you can keep your jacket.” You stutter, shaking your head as you pat his puffer down when he goes to shrug it off.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, “Well, can you tell me where so I can help—?”

“My lips!” You declare, voice high pitched and loud enough that it attracts a few stares from bystanders.

Yoongi just stares at you, and you’re mortified when you realise what you said, but you can’t seem to stop now that you’ve already dug a hole for yourself.

“My … lips … they’re ... cold,” You clear your throat, blinking up at him with a false sense of determination in hopes of shielding the way your face is undoubtedly on fire right now.

“Your lips … are cold?” He articulates each world tentatively as he observes your face for any reaction.

You nod.

“Yeah. Cold.” You say.

Oh my God, shut up!

Before you can even run away, and it’s as if Yoongi expects you to flee, he pins your hands down with his own and draws closer to your face so quickly that you can barely even catch his next move.

And kisses you.

Smack on the lips.

He pulls away too fast for your liking, and you’re gaping at him like a fish out of the water when you realise what he did.

“You—” You croak, pointing a finger at him.

But Yoongi leans in once more, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, one that sends your brain into overdrive as you feel yourself melt into his hold. If you were cold, you definitely weren’t anymore. Not when Yoongi is pressed against you like a warm lover by the fireplace.

He pulls away first, again, and you notice the tip of his ears turning red before he offers you that charming smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” He sighs, reaching out to cradle your jaw in his palm. And only then do you realise that Jimin was right, his hand is warm.

“W-What?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, ignoring the way you stare up at him with confused and wide eyes; likely still absorbing what just happened.

“Just hold my hand,” He tuts, reaching in between the both of you to intertwine your fingers together once more as he rests your combined hands on his lap.

“Does this mean …?” You ask shyly, head ducking away from his eyes.

He smiles at you, and you notice that it’s the same look he’s always had whenever he speaks to you.

He brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a gentle peck to it, causing heat to rise to your cheeks all over again.

“You warm now, cutie?” He murmurs.

You melt, “Oh my God! Don’t—just—I’m literally going to die!” You whine, shoving your face into his puffer as you scream at his suaveness.

He chuckles, low and deep as he unlocks your hands to wrap an arm around your body, tugging you closer until you’re practically glued to his hip like a koala.

“Don’t die on me now,” He sighs, “Just got you to myself.”

“I hate you so much.” Your complaint is muffled into his puffer, but you can feel his grin on the top of your forehead when he presses a warm kiss to it.

“That’s disappointing. I like you very much,” He returns.

You blush, but you don’t push him away when he laughs into your hair, the sound making you melt further into his arms.

You liked him, too.

#YOOOONGI #so cute #help me #tsundere yoongi #oblivious oc #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi scenario #bts fanfic #suga imagine #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi

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nerdylocksandthethreebears · 2 years

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I can just imagine Tony planning for his and Peter's first Valentine's Day/Anniversary months ahead because he has to make sure it's perfect

Thank you @starkerscoop 💖 I love this so much. Peter just being happy to be here while Tony is stressing from the side lines

So they got together in like March one year, this being the following February (Yes, sorry, I know you know how calendars work) but this is their first Valentines day as a couple

Hell, is the first Valentines day that Tony has put much thought into at all.

Tony knows he could get any booking he wants last minute and the temptation is there because honestly, Peter's favourite food changes with the time of day and he is slowly burning most bridges with the cities restaurants with how he is booking, cancelling and rebooking for the 14th.

Peter will say things are cute, will change interests like it is nothing, will get pouty anytime Tony tries to buy him anything expensive yet complains about how many small trinkets he has.

Tony has NEVER struggled to buy someone something before. He found that just throwing money at a gift is enough, but not with Peter.

Peter wants for nothing even though he still has very little. He just wants time and attention yet it feels a bit egotistical even by Tony's standards to offer that as a gift and he is too old to be wrapping a bow around his naked body. He gets cold.

He has been boring and annoying Pepper with trying to come up with an idea of what the hell he is meant to do with Peter.

He buys gifts only to return them, he books and cancels bookings weekly, he even buys ribbon as a back up to his many backups.

He even asks Peter what he wants but the boy just smiles up at him from where he is sitting on Tony's lap, wide eyes shining at him brightly and smiles like it is the dumbest question.

"I have everything I need." He would say before turning back to the film they were watching and cuddling in again.

Tony would both watching him with adoration and curse him for being so happy and content with literally nothing.

Small extra:

It would be the 13th and they would be cuddling in bed and Peter, half asleep would turn to him and mumble a "Are you busy at work tomorrow?"

Without even thinking Tony would wrap his arms tighter around him and nod, "Peps booked me all up." He would say with a matching yawn.

Although, he wouldn't miss the small sigh and the falter in Peter's smile.

"Hey, but I managed to book your favourite restaurant, and have a very special present for you. I know you said not to go too big but it is-"

And Peter would force his best smile and shake his head, "No, it is fine. Really. I don't think Ned has plans so I will see if he wants to hang out."

And it hits Tony.

Like a truck.

Peter literally did just want time.

He was thinking about activities like museums or theme parks, experiences. He was over complicating things. Peter didn't even need a ribbon. The boy had just been expecting... Time. Together.

Tony slipped out of bed, phoned Pepper and asked her to cancel all of his meeting.

He could basically hear her smile down the phone as she agreed.

He surprised Peter with pancakes and coffee in the morning. They did nothing. All day. They stayed in their pj's and just watched films and ate cheap sushi, and it was the best Valentines day that Tony had ever had.

#Starker #Locksanswers #Lockswrites #Valentinesstarker #valenta #Peterxtony #Ironspider #fluff

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licncourt · 2 years

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I've seen you discuss the Louis + Daniel friendship, but what do you think about Lestat + Daniel? I feel like that combo brings out the Chaos Demon in both of them...

YES YES YES

So Daniel is absolutely petrified of Lestat when they first meet. All of Louis' stories painted a...very specific picture of what kind of guy Lestat is. At this point Daniel is not nearly as passively suicidal as he once was, so meeting Louis' batshit crazy husband with newly acquired god-like powers sounds like a nightmare. It doesn't help that when they do meet, Lestat is very "on". It's right after Akasha so he's still kind of holding it together through bluster, charisma, and platform boots alone. It's a bit terrifying to witness.

Fortunately, this is a temporary state and it doesn't take long for Lestat to start decompressing, at least around friends. Daniel is a much bigger fan of the guy in jeans and band tee who laughs too loud at Risky Business and never seems to let go of Louis' hand

It takes approximately no time at all from that point for them to identify each other as potential accomplices. Much to Louis' dismay, Daniel is the perfect enabler for Lestat's dumbest and most impulsive ideas. Daniel Molloy hasn't had a fuck to give since 1976 and Lestat wholeheartedly respects that. That guy dated Armand for literal years while still a human, clearly he would face God and walk backwards into Hell

It turns out they can also bond over "Louis is so stupid hot and compelling that I let him ruin my life without hesitation". And they do, frequently. Daniel almost can't contain himself when he learns the word simp though because nothing will ever be more embarrassing than Lestat making heart eyes at the guy who set him on fire and dumped his body in a swamp to be eaten by alligators

Lestat is always trying to beat his personal best time for draining a victim, so sometimes Daniel will go hunting with him and man the stopwatch (while chanting CHUG CHUG CHUG in encouragement of course. Vampire kegger). Louis won't go hunting with them anymore

Lestat KNOWS Daniel has Louis' interview tapes and is relentless about begging for them (he's positive there's a lot more there than made it into the book and he's right). Unfortunately, he has no recourse for finding out where they are other than wearing Daniel down because he's Armand's fledgling. His mind is a steel trap and he could give even Marius a run for his money when it comes to the mind gift. Louis has sworn Daniel to secrecy on those tapes and frankly Daniel would burn the damn things if they weren't with the publisher. Regardless, for the sake of their marriage (and Louis' dignity), Daniel remains loyal

Both Daniel and Lestat have a love of 80s and 90s screwball comedies that their snooty SO's don't properly appreciate, so a couple times a month they have a boy's night (Louis and Armand don't appreciate the implications of that) and marathon shit like Beavis and Butthead, Strange Brew, or Dumb and Dumber (the Hangover movies are a big hit with them both when the 2000s roll around, as is anything with Adam Sandler)

Generally speaking, they are a terrible influence on each other. Daniel is always egging Lestat on in every dumb idea that crosses his mind (if it was possible to arrest a vampire, they would've gone to prison by now) and Lestat is a total enabler of Daniel's fundamental desire to be goofing off and fucking around 24/7

They're both allergic to feelings, but every once in a while Lestat will show up Daniel's door to hang out with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes and start asking questions about Louis. They're all framed as jokes, but Daniel can tell how badly Lestat wants to hear that Louis loves him, to have it confirmed by the one Louis' closest to. Daniel has plenty of his own demons, so he always obliges (complete with enough banter to let Lestat save face)

#answered #vc #hc tag

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aangelinakii · 3 years

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can u pls write louis x reader comfort hcs of how he shows affection <333

LOUIS HEADCANONS

how he shows you ( his s / o ) affection !!!!! <3

season : four

character : louis

song : upper side dreamin' , enhypen

date : 21st october 2021

note : soso sorry this took longer than expected but i hope you like it !! <3 and i love this idea i migjt do it with the others !!

louis, at first glance , is a super upbeat person

and he totally still is in a relationship, don't get me wrong

but i can imagine that when it's just him and his s / o alone, he's kind of vulnerable ? but definitely absolutely v v soft <3

louis's main way of showing affection is probs a huge combination of all the love languages ,, he's a very affectionate and loving person ( if you let louis get his tongue cut out i'll find you )

words of affirmation : mans is CONSTANTLY telling you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him, how good you look all the time but especially rn . will probably tell you in the worst of times too, like you're running away from a bunch of walkers and he's like " i never knew how good you looked running " or something along those lines , and every compliment he gives you is meant to sound sweet but can always be confused with something very much 18+ which isn't his fault he just doesn't think about his words before he says them

acts of service : will do anything for you. i'm ngl, he'd probably cut out his own tongue if you asked him to ( ofc you wouldn't right ???? i'm trying to catch you out ) . he's always accompanying you on your duties or sometimes doing your duties for you in case he feels like you're being overworked ????? bc he just loves you sm

giving gifts : i know it's meant to be receiving but yeah ,,, louis is the best as giving gifts. he knows just what to give you to make your day, even if it's the dumbest present possible , just bc louis gave it to you it's the best. he always finds cute or cool trinkets that belonged to people from before the apocalypse and gives them to you,, your dorm could literally be a museum by now. he's given you necklaces, cool ( or bland ) stones, bones and animal skulls, drawings, items of clothing plants , the list could go on. and each time, he says the samz thing: " i saw rhis and thought of you " , but each time it relates to a different memory you share <3

quality time : will never pass up the opportunity to be by your side !! and i mean it !! he loves to help you w your duties, but mostly loves being by your side in one of your beds. you don't have to be doing anything, you don't even have to be in each other's arms , as long as you're together he's happy <3 usually when you're in bed, he'll make sure he has his hand on you somewhere and does the cute thumb stroke thingy, and it makes you fall asleep and then he falls asleep and it's just really sweet <333

physical touch : when you're not cuddling up in bed, he probably has an arm around you , maybe over your shoulders or perched around your waist. regardless, he feels safe and stable when he's touching you bc he knows you're there, you're real, neither of you are getting away. finds new places to hold you from each day,, one day he's linking your fingers and dragging you around, the next day he'd found your coat pocket and is dragging you around from there

each evening louis plays you a new song, and he often works on ones written by him for you and it's really sweet when he goes to actually play them for you. his way of showing you he loves you is opening you up into his world of creation and showing you the things he's come up with ( such as songs or drawings ). he loves sitting shoulder to shoulder with you at the piano, knowing you're right there with him singing along

#newajgo #the walking dead game #twdg #twdg imagine #twdg imagines #twdg reaction #twdg reactions #twdg x reader #twdg the final season #twdg headcanon #twdg headcanons #twdg louis #louis #twdg louis x reader #newajgo requests #louis headcanons #twdg louis headcanons

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rocksinmuffin · 3 years

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For the Obey Me requests: boys doing the dumbest shit to get attention. They can be literally setting off fireworks that say 'I love you' and Reader is more interested in how they don't die from lack of sun. The real question is who has the dumbest idea and who's idea actually works. Thanks for being a babe, you're a great blog and I love seeing the things you post.

You’re pretty used to the brothers’ antics by now so most of their actions don’t even have you batting an eye.

Levi’s attempts to get your attention are the easiest to ignore because his idea of flirting is to invite you to play games with him and do things like put his Minecraft bed next to yours; things that he thinks are super obviously flirty but they just go over your head and he’s too flustered to actually admit he’s flirting so then he just spends the rest of the night pouting in his room.

Asmo is a little harder to ignore, mostly because his way of getting your attention is to simply take it by invading your personal space. You’ve found him lounged on your bed in lingerie and surrounded by rose petals more times than you have fingers on your hands to count. You usually just close the door and hang out at Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night.

The time Mammon filled your room with flame salamanders might be the absolute dumbest thing any of the brothers have done. Especially considering they almost burned the House of Lamentation to the ground. Though, you’re not entirely sure if that counts. While Mammon said he got them for you as a gift, you later found out they were part of a failed get rich quick scheme and he was trying to cut his losses. Why he thought he could win your heart with salamanders, who’s to say? You’ve long given up on trying to figure out how his mind works.

Beelzebub is the only one to successfully get your attention, mostly because he is the only one to be normal about it. He asks if you want to go to a new burger joint that opened up, as he usually does. When you ask if it’s just as friends he clarifies he intends it as a date. The burgers are delicious.

#ask #starkling25 #sinning #obey me #leviathan #asmodeus #mammon #beelzebub #reader insert

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

the 7 ways he’ll tell you he loves you

(NOT MY GIF ALL CREDIT TO OWNER)

jj maybank x reader

taglist: @snarkystarkey @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @yelyahryan @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @imsad05 @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @johnbsflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @maybe-maybanks @katie-avery @5sos-seavey

a/n: this is unedited, so sorry about the mistakes. i saw a lot of trouble going around with plagiarism on wattpad and i did report a lot of books with stolen fics and props to you guys for getting a few actually taken down!! plagiarism and theft of intellectual property is HURTFUL, writers put SO MUCH into their work, and it’s not so you can get some votes on a wattpad page. also, boys using lovely as a nickname is ;alsdjffenve.

How long is forever supposed to be? Months? Years, decades, lifetimes? Forever was supposed to be you and JJ.

Forever feels like the 15 minutes that he’s been fighting you for.

“Y/n, I don’t get why you’re turning this into such a big deal.”

“Stop doing that. Stop acting like I don’t get to be mad. I do! I am! You know, you always do this JJ.” “I do not.” “You do. I’m sick of it. I’m- I’m sorry, JJ, but I’m done. I don’t wanna do this anymore,” you sniffle. You refuse to cry. Not in front of him. “We’re going in circles, I really think it’s time to, to just call it quits.” You shrug. JJ is silent. You wait, you yourself need to process what just came out of your mouth.

JJ is on the couch. He leans on his knees with his elbows and his head is hanging low. He nods. Slowly at first, then quicker.

“Okay,” he sighs, “You’re right. You’re right.” You nod, relieved that he agreed with you. A bigger part of you was upset that he agreed with you. It would’ve been nice if he had put up some kind of a fight.

“So, uh, I’ll go.” “Yeah.”

You collapsed onto the couch, rubbing a hand over your face. A brightly colored magazine was open on the coffee table in front of you. Cheetah printed bold letters spelled out a headline:

The 7 Ways He’ll Tell You He Loves You.

Talk about bad timing. You flipped the cover back over it.

#1: He’ll flat out tell you.

“You know, you’re one of the dumbest boys I’ve ever met.” “Right back at you.” JJ grinned up at you. “Oh, low blow, dude.” You laughed, tackling him down onto the bed. JJ fell back with a loud oof, the breath knocked out of his stomach.

“One day, you’ll do that and I won’t get up, you know that? You’re actually going to be the death of me.” “Oh, I hope so. I’m already sick of you.” “This is literally you confessing to my murder.” He laughed, shoving you off him so he could hover over you instead. “They won’t arrest me, I’m too cute.” You gave him a cheesy smile.

“That you are,” JJ smirked, leaning down to press soft kisses into the skin between your jaw and your neck. You hummed in approval as he pulled away. You fiddled with the necklace which dangled from his neck. “I love you,” he muttered.

“ ‘Til I murder you?”

He pecked your lips. “Til you murder me.”

He couldn’t have fought for you? Put up some sort of argument? This was a stupid battle to pick with yourself. You were the one who instigated the break up.

Maybe you weren’t expecting him to actually agree with you. You weren’t expecting him to let you end things.

#2: He’ll protect you.

“Maybank, I swear to god, if you don’t get us down from here right now I will throw your ass off this cliff.” “It’s really not that high up!” “Holy shit!” You yelped and turned to bury your face in JJ’s chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, you’re okay, alright? You’re okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I got you. It’s okay, I got you.” JJ assured you, laughing a little through his words at how tightly you were clutching his tank top.

The next couple of weeks hurt like hell. It’s a sad process, trying to leave behind someone you were rooted to so deeply. You’d see him at parties or even just out on the street sometimes.

His eyes always followed you. When you were dating, you were amazing at being able to tell when JJ was watching you. A shiver used to run over your spine, and you’d turn and immediately meet his eyes. He’d smirk and raise his hand to salute you.

God, how you missed that smirk.

Apparently, after you stopped dating, your body never forgot what it felt like when his eyes were on you. These days, when you turned to look at him his eyes were intense. He held your eyes for a second. One second when you could forget how you cried and how he left without kissing you goodbye.

Then he looked away.

#3: He thinks of you when you’re not with him.

“Hey, baby, look at this.” JJ threw the door to the Chateau open and marched over to you. His smile was proud, like a child trying to impress his mom. He stuck out his hand and dropped a small square magnet into yours. You flipped it over to see the front.

It was brown and painted badly to look wooden. There were two u-shaped magnets painted on as well, and it read, ‘I can’t help but be attracted to you’. You read this out loud and JJ grinned, ecstatic with his choice.

“Where did you get this?” You snorted. “It was at some cheesy gift shop. It made me think of you so I had to buy it.” “It’s perfect. I love it.” You stood to kiss his cheek and slid the magnet onto the fridge. “You’re very welcome.”

JJ has always been nearly unreadable. He’s scarily good at hiding his thoughts and feelings from everyone around him, often including his best friends. You knew John B at least had some knowledge of JJ’s emotions, but you doubted the rest of the group did.

You had at least managed to make a couple cracks in the hard walls he had built up around himself.

#4: He shows you his emotions.

You gaped in awe at the bruises littering his torso. You had no idea just how bad it was. You had no idea why he never told you.

“I can’t take him anymore, Y/n, I can’t take it- can’t do it anymore.” JJ sobbed, his arms tightening around you. You guided his head down to your shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, J. C'mere.” You took a deep breath. You would not cry. Not when he needed you to be strong. “Let it out. You’re okay now.” You locked eyes with John B, terrified.

His tears soaked the skin on your shoulder and the first of many that night fell into his hair.

But since the breakup, from what you saw of him you couldn’t get anything. His face was expressionless every time you made eye contact with him.You had seen him smile at his friends once or twice, but nothing real. JJ was very good at fake smiles. They looked nearly identical to his real ones. But you loved him for long enough to know what a real one should look like.

#5: He’ll try and make you laugh.

“Why are you sad, lovely? Stop it, I hate seeing you sad.” JJ pulled you on his chest, brushing hairs out of your face. You shook your head, tucking your face into his chest.

“Ok. Fine. You leave me no other choice.” JJ sighed loudly. “What do you call Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson when he tells time?”

He waited a second for an answer that never came. “Dwayne ‘The Clock’ Johnson.”

You laughed abruptly, but it came out as a sob. You didn’t lift your head.

“Alright, you want more, fine. What do you call Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson when he won’t shut up? Dwayne ‘The Talk’ Johnson. What do you call Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson when the doorbell is broken? Dwayne ‘The Knock’ Johnson. What do you call Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson when he wears comfortable, breathable footwear? Dwayne ‘The Croc’ Johnson.”

Your whole body was shaking with uncontrollable laughter now. You were certain that JJ had been practicing those at some point.

“No more, no more, please,” You finally lifted your head and JJ wiped away a fallen tear with his thumb. You choked on a laugh. “So how long did it take you to come up with those?”

JJ frowned. “What do you mean, I came up with those like just now!” He laughed.

“Okay, sure, JJ.” “Don’t test me, I have like, 8 more.”

You think the worst part about this is being lonely. You’re surrounded by comforting friends who try and take you places and get you to have fun but at the end of the night you go home to an empty bed and you wake up in an empty bed.

And every morning without fail, you’ll wake up and reach for him. And every morning without fail, he won’t be there.

#6: He’ll make romantic gestures.

“JJ? Where are you?” You sat up, groggily. He wasn’t in bed, that’s for sure.

“G’morning, lovely,” JJ strolled into your room, carrying a tray. You propped yourself up on the headboard and took it from him.

“Aw, JJ, what is all this?” “Breakfast.” “You made breakfast?”

JJ stole a berry off your plate and popped it in his mouth, nodding. He took a seat near your legs.

JJ can’t cook for shit.

“Baby, it’s okay, it’s the thought that counts, I thought it was sweet!” “Nah, dude, that was shitty, I’m sorry. That bread tasted like a frying pan.” “The berries were good.” “That’s because all I did to them was wash them.”

You hit up another party with your friends. They were the best kind of distraction. You pulled up the green bikini strap that was falling down your shoulders. This was his favorite top.

“Y/l/n!” You heard a voice shout. “Y/n!”

You turned to see who was shouting your name and smiled at John B. “Hey, Routledge, good to see you!” “Hey, Y/n. Look, I know you guys aren’t on talking terms- “John B, no,” You interrupted, but he kept talking over you.

“But, please, Y/n, he won’t talk to anybody and we’re all worried about him.” “I really can’t, I don’t think he- “He’s in the van. Driver’s seat. Thank you!” And then he was gone. You huffed.

You could see the van from here and you could barely make out a figure sitting in the front seat.

You stood there for a second before you forced yourself to get over it and you made your way around dancing teenagers to the van.

You pulled open the door and climbed into the passenger seat. He turned to look at you.

“Hi,” you forced out. This felt uncomfortably unfamiliar. “Hey, Y/n.”

“How are you?” He asked. He was being formal. He was never formal with you.

“Fine, I guess. What about you?”

He said nothing. “Small talk? Is that what we are now? We have to make small talk?” He laughed, exasperated.

“I know you hate small talk.”

“What happened to us?” His eyes are wet, and he doesn’t look at you, just stares straight ahead. “I made a mistake.” You said it out loud. You hadn’t forced yourself to admit it yet. That you were wrong for putting him in this position.

“What?” He turned to look at you.

“I shouldn’t have broken up with you. I think some part of me thought you wouldn’t actually let me do it. That you would fight to make us work.” You shrugged. Your eyes watered up.

“Well, I didn’t want to break up with you.” He spoke quickly.

“What?” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Of course I never wanted to leave you, Y/n. I love you.” “But you said I was right. And you left.” “I thought that was what you wanted. I want you happy. If that means I have to get out of the picture, then I’m gone. I left because I thought you wanted me to go.”

You scoff. “So, all this time we’ve just been playing ourselves.”

JJ laughs, a wet one. “You know, nobody told me just how fucking useless I was going to be without you.” He finally really looks at you.

There’s a half smile on his face and his eyes are full of tears.

You leap into him, and he meets you halfway. He buries his forehead on your shoulder and his hand is holding the back of your head. “I missed you. I missed you so much, lovely.” He cries into your hair.

#7: He’ll do anything if it means you’re happy.

#outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj imagines #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fic #obx imagine #john b routledge #rudy pankow #outer banks fluff #outer banks angst

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justalost4girl · 3 years

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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beoneofus · 2 years

Text

HEADCANONS

MARKO

SFW

Marko has a chaotic personality. He'd be the one to be super flirty, and slightly pervy. He can also be kind of a dick, but once he gets used to someone, or takes a great liking to them, his nicer side shows more often than not.

Expect lots of dirty or dark humored jokes. I feel like this idiot would make unapologetic jokes about Lincoln's death or maybe even the influenza pandemic that he lived through. Very twisted.

He's definitely a messy eater, just like Paul - maybe more brutal though. Puts no hesitation into ripping a person apart. I can see him letting out a satisfied sigh as soon as the first squirt of blood sprays from his victims eyes.

Adding onto that - he's a brutal killer, in general. Although David comes up with lots of theories and ideas, Marko has to be second at being very creative with plans himself.. when it comes to murder, I mean. Expect the most sadistic kill from this fella.

He's definitely a sweetheart when it comes to loving someone, though. A huge flirt! But can be thoughtful and considerate, too.

I see Marko as the type to continuously get gifts for his mate or significant other. It's one of his big ways of showing affection, along with getting them their own jacket to decorate - or, if they already have one, he'd help them pick out the patches, paints, pins, colorful threads, etc.

Also adding onto that! He'd be more than happy to stick by their side no matter what. Star gazing? He's in. Nature walk? Kinda boring, but he can make do. Anything involving them, involves him. The two would be two vampires in a coffin, ya' know?

I feel like his favorite color would be like a creamy, sherbet orange or a sunset kind of orange. Marko is chaotic and so is the color orange, in my opinion, so it'd definitely suit him.

Most definitely an artist. Not drawing or coloring, but moreso of one that's into sewing, spray painting, graphic art, etc. He just would have a huge passion for it.

Horror movies are boring to him so we'll move onto Comedy, which are his favorite. I feel like if he were in current times, his favorite movies would involve Kevin Hart and/or Ice Cube. Kevin would definitely remind him of Paul and Ice Cube would be David LMAO.

If it's during the 80's, his favorite movies would probably include pretty boys like Rob Lowe and Matt Dillon being idiotic, yet hot jerks. Or Molly Ringwald being a total sassy babe. I feel like that's all he'd focus on, besides the corny, ( sometimes well thought out ) jokes.

This guy would have between a Chaotic and slightly calm music taste. Like, 90% wild shit and 10% calm for when he's having a good, relaxing day.

I don't think he'd listen to The Doors. That's definitely more of David's go to. I feel like Marko would be more into stuff like The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin ( Paul too ), Iron Maiden - just a crazy mix of all that.

One day, I feel like he'd play Twisted Sister just to piss off Paul, but would actually end up vibing to a few songs.

Would definitely listen to Fleetwood Mac on more relaxed days.

I think his favorite animal would be a cat. Cats can be chaotic, just like him. He'd probably get an orange tabby, not because orange is his favorite color, but because they'd share the same personality and energy.

Would most definitely bat the fucking toys around with his cat. He'd get entertained by the jingling/rattling sound. Marko is EASILY distracted by the dumbest things.

If he ever reads, it's literally picture books. He isn't dumb, but words aren't for him. He isn't the kind of guy to make a whole visualization in his brain - it's just too much work and effort.

If he were to go to one of those children's museums with Laddie and the guys, I can see him going for the hand puppets. Would NOT miss the chance on putting on a whole, dramatic show with Laddie.

Although him and the guys like take out, I feel like Marko would be head over heels in love with pizza. The kind with five cheeses, pepperoni and an extra topping he'd just throw on for added flavor. He just radiates pizza fanatic energy.

This guy? Party animal. He's the kind of man to jump onto a chandelier and swing from it. I can see him jumping on top of a table, too, and just full on strip teasing people. Would honestly just chug the whole house of liquor through one of those booze-hoses. I don't see him getting real sexual at a party, but he'd probably have multiple hickies lining his neck ( if he's single ).

Man, don't get me started on nights that he's stoned. Munchies, JUST LIKE PAUL. Lots of eating animal crackers, cheetos and little caramel candies. Dozing off every five minutes. Paul slapping him awake, only for him to jump up and nearly behead his brother from being startled.

To be honest, I don't think Marko would be good with trust after being staked by Edgar. He'd be on more high alert, and would have more walls up. I think it'd take a little while to get passed them, too, when he first meets someone. Not LONG, but maybe two or three months.

I feel like he'd be the one to make random ass noises at random times, just like that one kid at the back of the class that randomly moans. He'd howl, squeak, snort - just any noise that'll get a giggle out of someone ( ahem, Paul ).

If he threw a party, expect a bouncy house. I see Marko being the least close to Laddie, but that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't like him. So, child proof events will be a must. Plus, he'd want to get on it himself.

Adding on that ; expect different flips on the bouncy house. Backwards, forwards, all of that. At one point, or multiple, he'll almost break his neck like an idiot.

Okay so, as I said before, he wouldn't be the closest with Laddie. Although David wouldn't be too into kids, I feel like Marko would be afraid of getting attached because he wouldn't want to lose that child, one day - so he absolutely makes it his duty to push himself away.

He'll still treat Laddie like family, like get him presents and praise him when he's doing good, but other than that, he'd stay back. The fear was one he couldn't get rid of, and kind of just let it control him.

NSFW

Omg this animal. I feel like he'd be the kinkiest out of the four. Paul can be pretty kinky himself, but Marko would barely have any limits ( except scat and piss play, just ew ).

When going in, I feel like he'd be rough. Gripping the person's hips, before full on drilling into them - not even a warning. Just,, slam.

He'd do slow strokes at first, to build up frustration and anticipation, before speeding up greatly due to the demand of his lover. He definitely wouldn't mind getting bossed around.

This guy definitely has a praise kink. Tell him how good he's doing, and he'll either up his speed or go harder than before.

Pet names? Receiving or giving, it doesn't matter, but it's gonna happen. Expect both vulgar and sweet ones.

Marko is the type to keep a piece of cloth under the mattress he's using, just so he has a blindfold or bind whenever needed. He'd either block out someone's sight or tie up their hands, take your pick.

I feel like he'd prefer silky/lace binds instead of metal or rope ones. Although rough, he'd still be caring and wouldn't want his partner to get hurt.

Expect affectionate neck kisses, yet naughty skin nips if he's taking someone from behind. He'll roughly, yet slowly dig into them with full fledged force, all while giving attention to their neck.

Him and the other three boys are big on marking their territory, so he'll definitely leave hickey's where they're most visible.

Oh my god, he's definitely a little fucker that edges. He won't let someone cum until he's either close himself, or is feeling simply generous.

If anything, he'll finish up with cumming inside of his partner. If they're able to get pregnant... well, he won't feel bad. Not at all. That's a ‘ you ’ problem.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #slashers #marko the lost boys #headcanons #devwrites headcanons

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inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

439 notes · View notes

kirby-the-gorb · 2 years

Text

reply roundup!

highlights:

thank you also to kellie who was not in the last patron thanks due to an error but is still entitled to thanks :v

this month’s wallpaper [preview] is up!

I [ranted] about how things are going for the disabled community and y’all were kind enough to share it around :’)

[carby]!

patreon drawing is up for [fleurdelis]!

there is a spreadsheet about sheep under the cut somewhere lol

on [bear]:

@vincentvarlotto said: is kirby naked

this is by far one of the funniest comments I’ve ever received. I thought about it for days after I received it. isn’t he always naked???

@the-halo-of-my-memory said: hapy bapy, you always post before bed so i get a big dumb smile on my face while i cozy up with thr blankets 🥰🥰🥰

aww that’s lovely :’) thank you for sharing with me!

on [this big]:

@ceylonsilvergirl said: I want to see a spreadsheet about different sheep breeds!

spreadsheep (all data taken from the American Sheep Industry Association website, it’s very oriented around fiber production because that’s what I want sheep for - the green ones are my favorites based on fiber output per sheep weight and the qualities of that fiber.)

on [cat ears]:

@novasbeans said: i.... didn't realize those were his arms at first... also love the cat ears

@porkchizz said: buttcrack

please, please, if I am trying to give kirby any kind of cleavage, you [will] [know]

on [bro.]:

@zer0cracy said: Kirby after the newest sidekick turns out to be another eldritch horror

weird how often that happens. he can’t even work up a fuss about it anymore.

@the-beeses-kneeses said: bruh a mood. i hope its okay to save this for a reaction meme

absolutely, I hope you have fun with it lol

@inexplicably-spookified said: the ultimate copy ability: not mad just disappointed

the strongest power of all: mild interpersonal consequences

on [carby]:

@imkirb said: carby makes me feel a wide range of some of the strongest emotions I've ever felt, none of which I can describe. like the shrimp that can see a billion colors that we cant

shrimp emotions. emoshrimps? (he mostly just makes me feel delight lol)

@pinkdaruma said: I somehow frel proud this was rec in my "based on your likes"

nice B)

@snowthedemonfox said: carby is the dumbest thing ive seen ever yet its that hilarious and stupid i cant help but laugh /lh

it’s just kinda like wow, they actually went for it. and I think it’s great.

@pancakecherub said: carby is literally the pinnacle of 'hehoo funni ponk blib eat evvyting'

kirby can have a little car as a treat! lol

on [keyblade]:

@bluebayard said: he can weild the keyblade because he is pure of heart smash bros ultimate is WRONG. kirby would heal me. kirby would use curaga for me unlike SOME people. ducks. donald.

he would also do a much better job of bopping the boss with his silly little stick while I run away instead of just heading directly into every attack :v

on [too small]:

@the-queen-is-off-duty said: OOOOOHOHOHOHOOOO SO SMOL, TREAT WITH CARE, CANT SMOOCH HE DISAPPEAR

@angst-and-fajitas said: perfect sized to me :)

@onyxonline said: ITS HIM!!!! JUST A LITTLE SCRUNKLY! A LITTLE MAN! A TINY LITTLE GUY! LITTLE BABY MAN!!!! DA KIRBO!!!!

it’s him!! the littlest of guys!!! keep him in a thimble house!

on [cupid]:

@slimey-boo said: gorb this is so cute :) lil man is so happy. and possibly dangerous

hehe thank you :> he was given the gift of a bow and arrow and he is going to make it everyone else’s problem.

on [lost]:

@ceylonsilvergirl said: I know that this was literally created as a representation of a cat, but isn’t this just every single human alive? you’re born knowing nothing, and the more you learn the less you know. I mean, what we know as a species is just so infinitesimally small. interacting with brilliant people makes me even more convinced we know nothing. I’ve met a Nobel lauriat who smoked, he had no idea how to quit. I know a rocket scientist who tried to correct my word usage, and he was absolutely wrong. I’ve met a brilliant mathematician who couldn’t figure out how to work a camera. we’re all in a perpetual state of confusion

what are humans if not mammals that mistakenly assumed we were smarter than everyone else lol, I think it’s fine to not know much but we’d all be better off if we were willing to admit it.

9 notes · View notes

midnightsnyx · 3 years

Text

Mathew Barzal - A Year In The Making

pairing: mat barzal/reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fluff, angst (me writing sad stuff?? shocker), and there may be a couple swear words? also, this is not edited so i apologize in advance lol

a/n: so this isn’t the soulmate mat fic i am supposed to be writing lol but its still mat! i’ve been working on it f-o-r-e-v-e-r for @hannahmb so hannah, i hope you like it!

my masterlist

Mat Barzal

Summary: Y/N looks back on an entire year with Mat.

January

When you say that meeting Mathew Barzal swept you off your feet, you mean he literally swept you off your feet. It was cold and icy when you were walking to your favorite coffee shop. You weren’t watching where you were walking so when you ran in to him, his foot accidentally (and you question to the day whether it was truly accidental) tripped you up, he managed to catch you before you fell and when you looked at him and saw warm hazel eyes and brown hair sticking out from under his gray hat, you knew you were a goner.

. . .

You knew the reputation hockey players had. They slept around, didn’t give girls a second look after they got what they wanted and you were dead set on never giving Mathew Barzal a second thought but when you ran into him at the grocery store and he asked you to go for coffee, you agreed.

Looking back, it was probably the dumbest and smartest decision of your life.

Coffee led to lunches which led to a movie night at his place which led you to your first hockey game. You knew absolutely nothing about hockey but what you did know, was that Mat loved to celebrate after a win. Whether it was heading to the bar with a couple of his friends or spending the night home watching a movie, he was always in the best mood after.

After your first game, he decided that the best way to celebrate was to go for a walk and get hot chocolate with you. Despite only knowing each other for a little under a month, it felt like the two of you had been the best of friends forever. It was something that attracted you to Mat. How easily he was able to get you to open up to him and vice versa - how much he trusted you with his thoughts and feelings.

It’s definitely how you found yourself standing under a lamppost, snow falling around you like some cheesy romance novel and Mat kissing you softly.

And thinking back, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

February

Things between you and Mat were… interesting to say the least. You weren’t a couple but you know that both of you weren’t seeing other people either. Labels were messy anyways. They caused more tension between the two of you than good. Your friends, however, had their opinions.

“I just think it’s a little weird that he hasn’t asked you to make things official yet.” Your friend said. “I mean, you don’t know what he does on the road or during the nights you don’t spend together.”

Her words certainly hit a sore spot but you tried to brush it off. “It’s casual,” you said. “We don’t want to jump into anything.”

“If you say so.” She hummed, going back to eating her pasta.

Her words were in the back of your mind though, no Mater how hard you tried to push them out. You and Mat had been open about not seeing other people, it was a lengthy discussion that made you feel better about not putting a label on anything. But, there’s always the possibility that he would change his mind. You didn’t know what he did on the road. Maybe your friend was right, and even though you and Mat had talked about it, perhaps it was just his way of making sure you stuck around while he was home.

Maybe you were just the pathetic girl that waited at home for him while he did whatever he wanted while on the road.

March

You’d swept your uneasy feelings about Mat under the rug until a Snapchat video surfaced of him on the internet. It was him with the other guys sitting at a table in a bar with some girls sitting with them.

They were sitting with Mat and not on him is what you kept telling yourself. He didn’t look like he was interested in them but you couldn’t get rid of the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that he would take one of them home with him.

You knew that letting your friend’s words about him would ruin things but you couldn’t help it. So you ignored him when he called you the next morning. He knew that you had early classes and wouldn’t call you after games when the time zones would be too different.

You ignored his call and then the texts he sent. He would be home the next day so you decided he could wait until then because you still weren’t sure what exactly to say to him. What would you tell him? That you didn’t believe him when he said that he only wanted to see you? That you didn’t trust him, or that you let your friends words get to you?

You still didn’t know what to say when he showed up at your apartment. He looked worried and mad and you weren’t sure which was worse.

“What’s wrong?” was the first thing he asked. There was no hello, how are you?

“Nothing.” You lied but he shook his head.

“I know you better than that.” He said. “Something’s wrong.”

You wanted to lie to him again, tell him it was nothing, and to forget about it but you needed to know.

“Those girls in the video.” You said, and he looked confused for a moment before his expression turned into understanding. “I know we aren’t a couple, technically,” you said quietly and watched as he slowly walked towards you. “But it bothered me.”

You waited for his reaction, watched his face warily. What you weren’t expecting was for him to take both your hands in his and squeeze them gently.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked softly and even though you weren’t ready for his honesty, you nodded.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you that entire night.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Tito kept asking me why I wasn’t making a move on one of them.” His head tilted a little as he studied you. “But all I could think about that night was how much I wanted you to be there with me.”

You couldn’t hide the smile that crossed your face and you wrapped your arms around his waist and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“I kinda wished I was there too.” You whispered and your smile widened when he picked you up and spun you around. He was laughing when he put you down.

“Let’s go out tomorrow night. A couple of the guys and their girlfriends or wives are going to Joe’s.” He gave you a hesitant look but continued. “I want to introduce you to them.”

Your brows furrowed. “I’ve met your teammates.”

“I want-” he cleared his throat. “I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

Your smile could have lit up the room.

April

You quickly learned that being exclusive wasn’t all that it was cut out to be. There was a certain pressure that came with dating a professional athlete and as time went on, you felt yourself begin to crack under that pressure. You weren’t sure if it was the media, intense fans or the fact that it was difficult to spend as much time together during the Playoffs but you started to question things with Mat.

Your mother always told you that you were an over thinker and always managed to think of the worst possible scenarios and though you would never admit it to her, she was damn right.

Your overthinking is what typically caused an fight between you and Mat. You were never one to pick fights but it just felt like every single thing that happened made you upset. Whether it was you feeling that he played video games too much when the two of you hung out or that he thought you made a big deal out of small things, the two of you were arguing all the time.

It left you spending many nights questioning whether being with him was even worth it when all it seemed to do was cause stress. You wondered if he ever thought the same things.

. . .

The loud cheering in the Barclays Centre did no good to your mood on a Monday afternoon game. You weren’t even sure why you went to the stupid game in the first place after a terrible argument between you and Mat the night prior. It might have been Tito’s many, many texts that day asking you to come because “Mat is always in a bad mood when you don’t come to games” that had you sitting in the stands sporting your Barzal jersey. You knew that you were welcomed in the Wives Lounge but sometimes you enjoyed sitting surrounded by random people you didn’t know and not having to socialize.

It definitely was a good idea at the time because yours and Mat’s fight had unfortunately been in front of some of his teammates and their other halves so you didn’t feel like getting questioned about it.

A loud bang caused you to nearly jump out of your seat and when you looked up, Tito was standing in front of you, grin on his face and waving. You had been distracting yourself on your phone so you wouldn’t look at Mat during warm-ups but you caught his eye when Tito had made you look up. You couldn’t really read the expression on his face. Part was probably irritation and the other maybe relief that you had shown up. The door slamming in his face the night before was probably still fresh in his mind.

Tito waving his hand in front of you brought you back from the memory and he had a puck in his hand, pointing it to you. You furrowed your brows at him because you already had a few pucks from games when you and Mat had first started dating because he had a habit of gifting you with a lot of Islanders things. So you caught it when he chucked it over the glass, intending to give it to the kid sitting next to you until you caught sight of some scribbles on the back. You flipped the puck over and your heart warmed when you realized it was Mat’s handwriting.

I’m sorry with a small heart was written messily on it and when you looked up and caught Mat’s eyes, you smiled and nodded and that must have been enough for him because he grinned and winked at you.

It was enough for now.

. . .

Meeting him at the locker room doors was not anything unusual but you were on edge that evening. You were pretty sure Mat had forgiven you for slamming the door in his face the night before but you were still nervous. When the guys started coming out of the locker room, dressed back in their game suits and grins on their faces, you kept your eyes trained on the doors waiting for Mat.

“He’ll be a few more minutes.” Tito said, stopping in front of you. “He’s doing an interview - game winning goal scorer and all.”

You smiled and let him ruffle your hair like you were his little sister despite the age difference between you two being minor. He always treated you like a sister from the moment you met and you liked that compared to some of Mat’s other young teammates who tried flirting with you in the beginning.

“Thanks, Tito.” You said, waving as he smiled again and walked away.

A little longer than a few more minutes, Mat walked through the doors. He was dressed in his suit again and his hair was wet from the quick shower he must have taken before coming out.

“Hey.” He said quietly, hesitating as if he had been trying to decide whether to approach you or not. When you held out your arms, he walked straight to you and wrapped his around you, lifting you off the ground slightly.

The two of you stood there for what felt like longer than it probably was before he loosened his arms and pulled away a little.

“I’m sorry.” He said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Me too,” you told him and stood on the tips of your toes so you could reach his lips. The kiss was gentle and slow and when you pulled away, you took a step back. “The fight was stupid and we both know it.”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just… I feel like sometimes we fight for no reason and it frustrates me. I hate being mad with you.”

Deciding that Barclays Centre wasn’t the right place for his conversation, you took his hand and pulled him towards the exit.

“Let’s go home and talk.” You said and he nodded, squeezing you hand gently and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As you both walked to his car, you idly wondered when home stopped being a place and instead became a person.

May

The Islanders got put out of the playoffs during the second round and although you knew Mat was upset, he shrugged and said, “there’s always next year.” You wondered if that was what got professional athletes through the losses in their careers.

The end of the hockey season meant Mat going home to B.C and it left you in an odd place. He didn’t directly ask you to come with him for the off season but the way he described his summer plans, made it seem like you were involved.

But you being you prevented you from outright asking if he wanted you to come home with him. It was a big step and you weren’t sure you could handle the rejection.

As the date he was leaving quickly approached, he asked if the two of you could talk and your stomach plummeted at his words. You agreed though and during the drive to his apartment, you mentally prepared yourself for the rejection.

He greeted you at the door with a kiss which eased some of your worries but when he started making you your favourite ice tea, you started getting worried. He was mindlessly babbling about random things until he sat on the stool next to you and when you looked at him, he was uncharacteristically serious.

“You could have told me you didn’t want to come to B.C,” he said. “I wouldn’t have been offended, I know you have friends here and probably had summer plans-”

“Mat.” You said quickly, cutting him off. “I want to come with you. To your home.”

He stopped his babbling and looked at you in shock. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“But you didn’t say.”

“Well I mean, you never asked.”

He rose his eyebrows comically high. “I didn’t think I had to.”

A smile broke out across your face and you leaned forwards so you could kiss him. He chased after you when you sat back making your grin widen. “I just didn’t want to push. We spend nearly all year together so I didn’t know if you wanted space for the summer.”

“Y/N.” He said seriously. “I want to be with you. Forever.”

And if that wasn’t the sweetest and most romantic thing a man had ever said to you, you weren’t sure what was.

June

Summer with Mat was, well, amazing. Days spent on the lake and nights spent under the stars ended up making that summer one of the best in your life.

Meeting his family for the first time was equally frightening as it was exciting. His father, Mike and mom Nadia were two of the kindest people you met and you quickly bonded with his sister Liana. They took you in as if you were their own and Mat frequently joked that they were stealing you from him.

You didn’t mind though. You loved spending days shopping at the mall or going to the beach with Liana. Brunch with his mom was always lovely and she always managed to tell you the funniest and most embarrassing stories about Mat. It gave you a little leverage when you needed it and on top of that, Mat was overly cute when he would pout at you jokingly poking fun of him.

Every single day, you realized you fell a little more in love with him and that realization nearly knocked you off your feet.

July

“Let’s go out tonight together.” He said one morning. “Just the two of us.”

Not having spent much alone time together as you would have liked, you quickly agreed. Mat didn’t tell you where he planned on taking you but he must have told Liana because she chose an outfit for you. It gave you a small idea of what he might have been planning.

She didn’t pick out a fancy dress which told you that he wasn’t bringing you to a high end restaurant which you were secretly pleased about because you never quite felt like you fit in at places like those. You much more preferred to go to a small diner so when she chose a cute romper with a pair of sandals, you had a bit of an idea of where you might be going.

“Any hints?” You asked, placing a hand over his which was resting on your thigh.

He shook his head and grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

You pretended to be bothered by it but you felt giddy inside that he was putting so much thought in to your date. It was also fun playing a guessing game, throwing ideas at him of where he was taking you even though you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. You had carefully watched his reactions to your guesses so you weren’t overly surprised when your ride ended at a park.

It was pretty late in the evening, getting close to dark so there were very few people out and around. He parked his car and reached in the backseat to grab a bag before climbing out of the car.

You knew he liked opening the door for you so you waited until he opened it before getting out as well. He took your hand and lead you to a park of the park that was empty and then dropped the bag on the ground and dug around, pulling an old blanket out.

“Picnic?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is it okay?” He asked and you sat down when he spread the blanket out.

“It’s perfect.” You told him, watching as his face lit up. He sat down next to you and started pulling different snacks out of his bag, handing you some of your favorites.

“Mom helped pack the lunch.” He paused. “I had to stop her when she tried to cook a three course meal for us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh because it was a very Nadia thing to do.

“I love your mom.” You said. “I love your entire family.”

He smiled, looking at the ground as if he was concentrating on something. You knew the look enough that it meant he was going to say something but was either nervous and was working himself up to saying it or would decide not to say it at all.

But you wanted to know what he was thinking so you nudged him.

“What’s going on in your head?”

His cheeks were red when he lifted his head and he shrugged, smiling.

“I love you.”

Your smile was as bright as one of the stars and he met you halfway when you leaned towards him.

“I love you too.”

August

August was one of your least favourite months because it meant that summer was coming to an end. It also meant that off season was coming to an end and it meant that you and Mat would soon be heading back to New York. You loved it there, you really did. You missed your friends and your job but you knew you would miss B.C even more so when the day came that the two of you had to leave, you weren’t ashamed of the tears that were shed. Nadia made you promise to visit again soon and it was an easy promise to keep.

As soon as you got home, Mat was right back at training for the new season. It was a big change from spending basically every single day together to having to share him again with hockey. You loved Mat and you loved that he did what he loved but sometimes you did wish he had a normal nine to five job. He knew you felt that way some days and you could tell he sometimes felt a little bad about it but what you came to learn throughout your relationship with Mat, was that hockey nearly always came first. It was something that you struggled a lot with in the beginning of your relationship but it got a little easier as time went on.

On your best days, you would watch Mat train and feel pride in how determined and hard working he was.

On your worst days, you laid in bed at night and tried to think of your first kiss with the snow falling softly around you, warm sunny days at the lake and late nights under the stars.

Sometimes it was enough but sometimes, it wasn’t.

September

Wake Me Up When September Ends is the most played song on your playlist for an entire month.

October

You never know the biggest fight of your life is coming until it happens. It’s something that starts as the smallest of things until suddenly it hits you like a freight train and the impact is devastating.

That’s what the biggest fight of yours and Mat’s relationship was like.

You hated shouting and screaming. You hated threats to give everything up and walk away. You hated how easy it felt to do just that.

But what you hated most of all, was feeling like you were never enough. Like no Mater how hard you tried, failure was bound to happen and there was no way you could stop it.

And that was exactly what happened.

Slamming doors was your thing. It was childish and immature but it was a way of you making a point when you were angry about something so when Mat slammed a door, you knew he was past anger.

Mat rarely got angry with you. It could be counted on one hand the amount of times he even raised his voice at you but that night, the two of you yelled at each other until your voices were hoarse.

“Why can’t you understand where I’m coming from?” You snapped, watching him pace back and fourth across the living room. His hair was a mess, he had been running his hands through it and tugging enough that you thought he would tear it out.

“Because it makes no sense!” He yelled, “you knew what you signed up for when we started dating! I can’t be your typical nine to five boyfriend who comes home every night.”

“I’m not asking you to be that! I’m asking you to try and put more effort in to this relationship!” You shouted, not caring about the noise complaints you received from your neighbors a week later. “Do you know what it feels like when you feel that you’re the only one putting any effort in? What it feels like when you look at your friends relationships only to realize that yours isn’t even close to how good theirs is?”

“So you’re calling me a terrible boyfriend.” He said dryly.

“That’s not what I said and you know it. Stop putting words in my mouth, Mat.”

“I’m not putting words in your mouth if that’s what you’re saying. If you’re so unhappy, then why are you still with me, huh?”

His words stopped what you planned to say and you stared at him in shock. A small part of you wondered what the answer to his question was. Were you really that unhappy that you considered leaving?

“I…” you began but trailed off as you watched any emotion leave his face. The hurt and even anger disappeared and you didn’t realize how quiet the room was until he shook his head.

“I’ll make it easier for you.” He said, grabbing his coat and keys. “I’m done.”

You felt like you were frozen in place as you watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. Minutes passed before you slowly walked towards the front door, opening it in hopes that maybe just maybe he was standing on the other side but when you opened it, the hallway was empty. It was dead silent and when you looked at the floor, you saw Mat’s key to your apartment laying there, the little heart and smiley face you had drawn on it staring up at you as if it was mocking you.

You knelt down to pick it up and suddenly it felt like you couldn't breathe, like all the air was pulled from your lungs and your heart was cracking open.

If meeting Mat felt like breathing for the first time, then losing him felt like drowning.

November

You thought that heartbreak was something that passed eventually, that it got easier every day but it was a lie. You didn’t get over Mat quickly, in fact, it felt like every day got harder and you always told yourself you wouldn’t be that girl. The girl who gets her heart broken and can’t get over him. You wouldn’t cry yourself to sleep some nights or be afraid to turn the TV on in case it was the sports channel and you saw his face.

You scrubbed your apartment clean of him, everything he gave you and anything that reminded you of him sat in boxes on the top shelf of the spare bedroom. It didn’t help though because the memories, those were impossible to forget. They were engraved in your brain forever.

You hated him for how easily he left, how easy it was for him to walk out of your life as if he was never here.

Tito texted you a few time in the beginning, first asking what happened and then asking if you were okay or if you needed anything. You guessed he got the message when you didn’t answer because you haven’t heard from him in weeks and you weren’t sure if that made you relieved, or sad.

Falling in love was easy you realized.

Falling out of love was impossible.

December

A year passes swiftly. Especially when it’s both the best and worst year of your life. You hated yourself for it, but when December hits, you wondered how Mat was. You wondered if he got over you quickly or if he struggled the same way you did. You suspect it was the former.

At the end of every year, you liked to go through your things and donate what you don’t need or want. You started with your clothes and as you went through it, you noticed that you were missing several of your favourite outfits and your heart sank when you realized they were at Mat’s.

It left you with a dilemma. Leave them, or be a big girl and go ask for them back. You could go through Tito to get them back but you don’t know if he’s upset with you for ignoring him just because you broke up with Mat. He was your friend and it was unfair what you did but at the time, you were hurting.

But still, you decided to do it yourself and go get the clothes from Mat’s apartment and whatever else you might have left there. You did your best to get ready and look presentable and when you felt ready, you grabbed your keys and headed for the door. When you opened it, a hand nearly collided with your face as the person standing there was starting to knock. They jumped back and when you looked up, you found yourself staring in to the eyes of the exact person you were going to see.

“Mat.” You whispered, feeling like you needed to reach out and touch his face to make sure he was actually standing there and you weren’t hallucinating. But you didn’t because that would just make you look insane.

“Hi.” He said quietly and the two of you stood there for an unknown amount of time staring at each other.

Eventually, you found your voice.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, not harshly but confused.

He opened his mouth to say something but it was if he couldn’t get the words out. Like they were stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said and you looked at him in shock.

“What?”

He scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor. “What I said to you… it was unfair. I know I fucked up, and I don’t deserve a second chance but these past two months, I missed you like Hell.”

You were lost for words. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss him too but were you really willing to put your heart on the line again and it got broken so easily last time? Could you even handle another heartbreak like that?

“Can we… can you give me a second chance?” He asked so timidly and quietly that you barely heard him.

You let yourself think back over the past year, remembering every single detail. All the joy, laughter, love and heartbreak. Was it worth it? Risking everything again even though you could end up broken again?

You found yourself looking at Mat again, hazel eyes warm and hopeful and it makes you think of the very first time you met. You were faced with the same decision - to let him in or let him go?

You knew you could live without him but you realized standing there, thinking about the past and what the future could be - you didn’t want to live without him.

So you stood up on the tips of your toes and pulled his lips down to meet yours and it felt like you were whole again.

“I can.”

(a couple years down the road, you’ll be saying I do in front of your friends and family with the love of your life and you’ll realize that yes, the risk was worth it.)

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