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#while i really did enjoy barbie and found it really cute i didn’t *love* it

inmyicyworld · 9 months

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Barbie

Summary: Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts.

Words count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, NO SPOILERS

Author's note: So basically, I wrote it for myself because I had no one to watch this amazing movie with, and it gave me some comfort. I believe that Buck would’ve actually enjoyed it too because he’s so sweet and cute.

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You had been excited about the Barbie movie since the day you found out that it was in the making, and you may or may not have annoyed Bucky with it like a million times.

You begged him to go see it on the day of the premiere, and even if at first he really wanted to say “no”, he couldn’t.

Yes, he was your grumpy old supersoldier, but he would do anything to make you smile.

When the tickets started to sell, it was almost impossible to find one because people went crazy about this movie.

When you finally had time to look for the tickets, they were sold out. Obviously. Even if you didn’t say anything, Bucky saw sadness written on your face when you didn’t get the tickets for the opening night, and it hurt him to see you that way.

So, as the best boyfriend in the world, he got them for you.

Yes, there was definitely one good thing about being a famous Avenger: you could get almost everything.

You and Sam also taught him how to use TikTok a few months ago, and besides a million videos of cats, he started to see Barbie-related content. He wasn’t really interested until he saw a video where a guy bought his girlfriend a doll and a lot of pink and cute things as a surprise.

Would you like it if he bought this for you? Did you even like dolls?

Bucky didn’t think about it too much; he just went to the store.

He probably stood in front of the shelf with Barbie dolls for way too long because, while he was looking for the one he thought you would like, a shop assistant came to offer him some help. Bucky explained his situation, and the young girl—Stassie, as he found out—was almost jumping with excitement to help him and said that his girlfriend was really lucky.

She showed Bucky two dolls that came out recently: one in the western look and one in a light pink dress. It was hard to pick one because both were really cute.

So he bought both.

Stassie gave Bucky a few tips on what else he could buy for you; that's why, after another hour in the mall, he went home with a big box full of random pink and cute stuff.

You weren’t at home, so he hid the box in a safe place and decided to give it to you after the movie.

The day before the premiere, when you two were already getting ready to sleep, laying under the blanket and ready to cuddle while watching a movie, he silently gave you a white envelope.

“What is this?” You asked, looking at your weirdly smiley boyfriend.

“Open.”

You studied his face for a few minutes, but then sat up and carefully opened it to not rip whatever was inside.

“Bucky…” You whispered as two tickets with “Barbie” written on them fell into your hand. “You didn’t—how did you get it?” Your eyes were watery as you looked at him.

“That’s a secret. But I wanted to make you happy.” The soft look in his eyes made you want to cry, but instead you just jumped into his arms, leaving kisses all over his face.

“I fucking love you, James.”

“I love you more, doll.”

It was safe to say that he got his reward for being a thoughtful boyfriend, and you both fell asleep only a few hours later.

You two walked out of the movie theater holding hands while you were still sobbing a little bit. It was an amazing experience, and you were overwhelmed with feelings. Bucky led you to the side so you wouldn’t bother other people, wrapped his hands around you, and held you close to him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He mumbled into your hair and kissed your temple.

“Yes. I’m so happy that we watched it. And that you came with me.” You wrapped your hands around Bucky’s neck and melted into him.

“I liked it too, actually.” You heard a deep chuckle.

“You know, I told you that you look great in pink, and you didn’t believe me.”

You obviously decided to stick to a non-official dress code, but it was hard to convince your boyfriend that he needed to wear something pink too. So the only thing that he liked in the store was a pink jean jacket, and you were okay with that.

An old lady that sat in the movie theater behind you with her grandkids said to Bucky that he was a really good young gentleman and that you two were perfect for each other.

Bucky didn’t really like any interactions with strangers, but you still noticed a light pink color on his cheeks and a sweet smile that he gave to the woman.

“If you think so, I’ll accept it, baby.” He was silent for a few seconds, but then smiled again and cupped your face with his metal hand so you would look at him. “I have something for you at home. Do you want to go there now and then order some food?”

“Something for me?” You frowned at him but still leaned into his touch. “And you should know better than to ask me whether I want to order food or not. I always do.”

You were sitting in your living room on the couch, where Bucky told you to stay and wait for him. He went to your bedroom and came back in a few seconds, holding a big pink box.

“This is for you.” He put the box near you on the couch and sat on the free spot at the other end.

“For me? Why? I forgot about our anniversary or something?” You tried to laugh.

You opened the lid, and your mouth opened as you saw what was in there. Your shaking hands gently pulled out two boxes with dolls, and you took a few seconds to look at them properly, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes. Then you got the rest of the stuff: a pajama set, a journal, a candle, masks and bath bombs, and a lot of your favorite candies. Of course, everything was pink.

“I hope you like it. The girl at the store said–” You didn’t let him finish before you stood from your place and sat onto Bucky’s lap, hugging him as hard as you could, sobbing into his neck.

“Sh-h, baby, that’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around your body, gently swaying you from side to side.

“T-thank you so much, Bucky, really. You didn’t have to do it.” You moved back a little bit, and Bucky’s right hand immediately flew to your face to wipe away tears. You took one of the boxes with a doll on your lap and carefully took her out of the box. “She’s so pretty... I’ve never had a real Barbie before. They are expensive.”

“It is worth every dollar if it makes you happy. I saw this idea on that video app, and I wanted to give you something special.”

He looked at you with a soft smile while you were unpacking the second doll and then gently touching her hair and clothes. He thought that he gave this present more to the younger you, and it made him feel so happy.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” You put the doll down and took Bucky’s face in your hands. “I am so lucky to have such a person in my life. Thank you for everything. Not only for the dolls, it’s all amazing. I love you, James.” You closed your eyes when he moved closer and put his forehead on yours.

“I’m the one who is lucky to have you. I’ll give you anything if it makes you smile this way. I love you.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction

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bunniesnuggie · 11 months

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ethan landry as a caregiver

ethan landry x hyper fem little!reader

summary: just some headcanons of our favorite nerd as a first time caregiver 💕

*this is a non-ghostface au, he’s alive and not a stabby boy 👍🏻💗

*not proofed*

quick lil heads up - i’ve literally never seen scream 6… and have no idea who anyone is except ethan so, keep that in mind. but i still have been kinda obsessed with him lately :3

♡finds out by coming home early from class and finding you fully regressed in his dorm

he’s so cute; he didn’t even know anything was “wrong” at first. just enjoying the sight of his adorable girlfriend laying on his bed in his shirt cuddling the build a bears you made for each other, watching barbie movies. that is, until you yelped and leaped off the bed, and literally started crying. traumatized him ™️

♡ himbo DID NOT understand,

he will never EVER judge you. but did have to do research b4 fully getting it, like cutiepie was reading phyc books during his classes and reading different posts online 💕but didn’t say anything abt it to you tho. just kinda became a mama bear one day 😭 he does ask you lots of questions when your big tho

♡ once he does get it tho…. OH BOY

he had no idea he would love taking care of someone so much, this is both of your guys first relationships. everything is new, this is no different to him than learning your favorite things or how you like to be comforted. he knows this is simply coping for you, and he would do anything for you. so helping you heal you inner child is nothing out of the question

♡ soft casual dominance is kinda already his thing, so it comes naturally

so he’s used to tying you shoes for you, holding your hand out in public, he’ll order you food and talk to strangers for you. so when he does become your caregiver, the dynamic in public isn’t really that different 🫶🏻

♡ bathtime, playtime, naps!!!

he loves spending time with you while your regressed!! he colors with you and totally plays dolls or dress up. he’s very pretty and loves when you tell him so while putting clips in his hair☺️

♡ lego bf!

literally buys you sm lego sets, easier ones like duplo for when ur smaller and the more complex “adult” ones for date night :}

♡ he also gets vv invested in your shows and stuffies lives

“he did WHAT?!? why would he do that, can’t he tell that is not Ariel????? i mean her hair isn’t even RED!!!” 🤬🤬 becomes an angry boi. he totally spills the tea with ur stuffies during tea parties😗

♡ makes sure you guys go on “little” dates at least twice a month

you guys are basically attached at the hip, young love and all, so dates are frequent. but when he became ur caregiver, he wanted to make sure you knew he wanted to do this and be there for you 1000%. he also wanted to help you with regressing regularly to help you cope with stress. you once told him that you hadn’t regressed once in like 5 months and it was not fun when you finally did, he learned abt “improper” regression that night and never wanted to let it happen to you again 🥹

♡ embodies spider-man!bf energy

he LOVES the hellokitty!gf x spider-man!bf trends. he literally thinks it was made for you guys nerd. makes you bracelets that say bunny and daddy on it, his is red a blue and urs is pink and white, awe💕💕lowkey feel like he’d dress up as spider-man for halloween too

♡ speaking of nicknames, say good bye to ur real name

even before he found out you were a little, it was always sweetheart, bunny, angel, pretty girl, baby, princess etc that boy loves you so much and he shows it. after though he added in little one, babybug, tiny, dolly…anything that makes you feel especially small

♡ literally always carrying you

this man is 6’2, he makes chad look small he towers over you and absolutely loves it. so he takes advantage of it when he can, piggyback rides are a common occurrence. he loves just holding you in his lap, seeing ur tiny body take up such little space and fit perfectly on him, makes him 🫠

♡ is SO SOO protective

people take him for granted, thinking he’s just some sweet, docile nerd who loves econ. and while that is true, bby can kick butt and will for you. he doesn’t let anyone near you while regressed, heck or even see pictures of you regressed. that is your safe space. he will be damned if he lets anyone taint it. he also asked of you would be ok with him monitoring you socials while small, especially if you have agere accounts. he does not take anon hate lightly and will not tolerate any nsfw accounts trying to interact with you

♡ he just loves you so much and wants u to always be happy

like i said he will do absolutely anything for you, that boy loves you more than anything in the world. he shows it to you every day, whether that be in big space by showering you with kisses and complements, showing you off in public with an uncomfy amount of pda. or in the comfort of your room, surrounded by stuffies and coloring books while your dada reads you a story 💗

a/n: ahhhh i’m back!!!! sorry it’s literally been like….a year👀i haven’t regressed in a very very long time and just haven’t had motivation to post :( i’ve also been obsessed with new ppl so i’ve been writhing non-eddie stuff lately :3 anywho here’s a lil smth smth and hopefully i’ll be posting a bit again. i want to write abt barry from obx but idk if anyone would care or read it 😭😭might just draft that one for me lol. i’ve also got a lot of requests and wips to finish so it’s just up to me to write them 🫠😭

*i’ll be updating my character list to included the new ppl i want to write about!!!

tag list//

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil- -baby- -bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

#cg!eth #cg!ethan landry #cg!ethan landry x little!reader #little!reader #agere fic #x little!reader #cg! x little!reader #sfw agere blog #age regression #agere #sfw little community #sfw agere

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someonexsomeone · 9 months

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Falling Behind

Title: Falling Behind

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x np!Reader

Summary: Taeyong just wanted a little time alone, was that too much to ask?

Authors Note: Day 8!! We're getting so close to the end now! I finally got to see Barbie yesterday, after a series of 'only this type of thing could happen to a ff author' level hijinks, and wow. Did i love it? yes. Do i have extremely conflicted emotions on it? double yes. Did i make me sob? absolutely yes. So, please take his awful meet cute as I scream into my pillow

If there was one thing about Superman that Taeyong understood, it was the appreciation of a simple disguise. Yes, only popping on a pair of glasses and becoming an entirely new person was a little farfetched, even he could admit that, but taking it just a little step further and adding a mask or hat made him completely disappear into the crowd. He was grateful, eternally so, that he was able to pursue his dream of music, exploring parts of himself he never thought he could, yet…there was a part of him, a really small part of him, that desperately wishes for the peace that came with his life before his music career. He was handsome, his mom made sure he knew that, but he didn’t think he would stop cars on the street or get free food with a flash of a smile like some people he knew. He could exist in the world and not have to think for a second that he would cause a mob just by walking by a group of people. Hence, his other great appreciation in life; his mask.

After a minor incident here and there with some unruly fans, Taeyong knew the drill by now if he wanted some alone time. Hair had to be tucked away, as the colorful strands would stand out too much, and glasses had to be on if he was going to take his mask off to eat or drink briefly. He could stay at a cafe for a little bit, but not too long, lest people started to notice him. Walks in the park were strictly forbidden unless he had a guard with him, and public transportation was an extreme no-no. Always notify staff where he was going, never stay out too late if he had a schedule the next day, and if he came back with any scapes or bruises in places that were too suspicious, he could kiss his privileges goodbye for the amount of time deemed appropriate by the injury. And absolutely no talking to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary,

Stifling? A little bit. He was just happy to be let free every once in a while, unlike some of his other members.

Today had him in the unmarked black bucket hat, brim just big enough to cover the tops of his eyebrows that had been dyed blue from his most recent stage, his favorite spring tank top, baggy cargo pants, and his favorite chunky tennis shoes. With a worn-out satchel thrown over his shoulder, he thought the outfit would fit the fresh spring air that pushed through the city. And, with his favorite cafe being in a relatively remodeled part of town, his outfit didn’t stand out much as soon as he joined in the groups of young adults all enjoying a weekend away from school or their jobs. This cafe in particular had a rotating staff of seasonal workers as well as a bustling crowd of young entrepreneurs, either meeting at the cafe for meetings or to take advantage of the free high-speed internet. Taeyong found he could often stay there for longer than most, and it made him absolutely giddy. His steps had a little more spring in them as he jogged up the stairs.

The modeling, the training, the shoots, the recording sessions. They never seemed to stop, which meant he couldn’t either. So, on a rare day he was able to have alone, a random Tuesday that was supposed to be filled with the newest stage fittings but seemingly got canceled out of nowhere with no other thing to fill it, he jumped at the chance to get out of the dorms. Yes, he loved his members, he loved spending time with their stupid asses and watching them get stupider by the minute, but there was only so much of them he could handle. Love him to death, but if Johnny asked him to go out one more time, his form of relaxation, Taeyong was going to jump him. He nearly kissed his manager when he agreed to let Taeyong venture out alone, his mind already on his favorite place.

As usual, the cafe was near rowdy with people. The person who took his order didn’t spare him a second glance as they took his order, and neither did any of the handful of people he passed on the way to a table in the corner. It was piled with dirty dishes, but he didn’t mind pushing them towards the edge in order to actually have a place to sit away from the door. Plus, as soon as the waitress brought his drink and pastry over, the table was quickly cleared, leaving space for his worn notebook and laptop. His headphones, already pushed over his ears, were ready to repeat the same melody that was in desperate need of lyrics. Though, he only got as far as plugging them in, before a notification had him opening his email. There, in bold letters at the top, was a digital invitation.

You, Lee Taeyong, are proudly invited to the wedding of… was all the message was able to say in the small preview box. In an instant, all the happiness and motivation of the day drained from his shoulders.

He should have expected it really. He was, after all, there when the proposal happened. A lovely high school reunion of sorts, packed with people he knew and people he didn't, all wanting to see what their classmates had been up to in the years between their graduation and the present. Taeyong originally wasn’t going to go, but he was a sucker for the puppy dog eyes his friends gave him when they asked. It was a little awkward at first, people being too afraid to approach him first, but the night mellowed easily with the copious amounts of alcohol being served. The proposal was done by a couple he knew met in high school, though he wasn’t particularly close to either of them.

“A big wedding,” he mused to himself, the only logical explanation he had for why he of all people was being invited. With a huff, he pushed the laptop closed, not bothering to view the message in its entirety right now, before slumping in his hair, his eyes fixed on the view out the window. Being on the second floor on a relatively busy street, there was more than enough to keep him entertained as he gathered his thought.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for the couple, he reasoned with himself. It was, well, that the couple wasn’t him. This wasn’t the first time romance had his thoughts racing to the point of unproductivity, he had to think about it often enough with what SM wanted him to be producing. This was, of course, added on top of the fact that he was a romantic at heart, and pretty much everything around him reminded him of romance in some way or another. A lone tea cup on a table? A tragic love story of a recently widowed elderly woman. A jacket left on the bench at the park? Of course, it had to be left behind by a couple who were too excited to splash together in the nearby river to realize they forgot it. Two people sitting remotely close to one another in the library? A private meet-up between the children of rival companies. Love stories were endless to create. It was both a blessing, as it allowed more than enough material to write pages worth of music, and a curse, since it was literally all he could think about all the time

Before, this was a fun thing for him to dream up. Life as an average citizen meant that romance was filled with endless possibilities of meet-cutes, raunchy escapades, and scandalous affairs. Now? There was too much to risk to allow himself to fall for any pretty person that crossed his path, no matter how much he yearned for the simplicity and comfort of love. Heck, he hadn’t ever really been in a relationship, a true one, where you were able to spend all night basking in the presence of the person you loved and talk about anything your heart desired without it ever feeling like there was an end. Only through his music was he able to speak freely on his melancholy thoughts, as any hint of romance between him and someone else had the power of the company raining down on his head. Even his bandmates, who he wanted to trust with his entire being, were too risky to tell.

So, more often than not, his music was his only outlet, and his thought was his only real safe space to think. He was sure, absolutely positive, that being able to talk things out would clear a lot of his doubts. For now, he could only wish for a moment he could be so vulnerable.

Things were in a constant loop of doubt. Ever since he loved into the city, moved away from his home, and had to fend for himself, it feels like he’s been stuck in an endless loop of self-doubt and critique. It seems like life for others has been moving in a natural progression, the number of couples in his life growing exponentially. Couples, he could handle…to an extent. Some lasted, some didn’t, but there was some part of himself, however bad, that could talk his way out of feeling sorry for himself when he saw them. Love was obvious in his eyes, and those same eyes saw the number of couples that would date just to have someone. Arm candy, social status, a way to starve off loneliness. He started to get good at seeing the subtle differences, especially when he was finally able to go out on his own and people-watch to his heart's content. Marriage, on the other hand, was something too ingrained in his brain as synonymous with love that now, as those very couples he tried to deny were tying the knot, made him feel so very little. It felt, for lack of a better phrase, that he was beginning to fall behind in whatever stupid race life was. It made him feel…hollow.

He sighed, willing himself to pick up his nearest pen and put it against the paper in his notebook, just to do something to get those thoughts to stop. Sometimes, with a little luck, his melancholy thoughts could translate themselves into lyrics that rid them from his head. Lines and dots, lines and dots, but no real words. After nothing appeared on the page, he signed heavily, tossing the pen against the pages one more to throw his head back to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Are you alright?” His head whipped up, hand unconsciously lifting to make sure his mask was still in place, as he made eye contact with the person standing beside the other chair at his table. His face flushed when he met your eyes, his mouth drying at the way they sparkled with genuine concern for him. You were wearing an apron with the cafe’s logo, and a pot of steaming coffee in your hand, silently gesturing to his near-empty cup. He nodded once, a response to your vocal question, but you didn’t move from your spot beyond filling his cup. He thanked his mask for being in place as he winced, his perfectly sugary mocha getting filled with pure black coffee. When he didn’t respond, you seemed to panic. “I don’t mean to intrude, but you seemed happy when you arrived, and you, uh, you’ve been staring out the window for a while now.” Taeyong’s eyes widened. “Oh! I don’t mean that I’ve been staring at you! I just noticed- I mean, you’re awfully handsome-- no wait I mean…”

Taeyong couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped him at your flustered face. You only reddened further at his laugh.

“No, I’m sorry this was dumb. You’re obviously working. I’ll just…yeah,” with a soft sigh, you headed back behind the counter without another word. Taeyong watched your slumped shoulder, a smile stretched on his face as you disappeared behind the swinging door. It grew even more as he watched you smack yourself on the head, gesturing wildly as your mouth moved with obvious embarrassed passion. He wondered, full of glee, if you knew he could obviously see you through the window on the door.

As much as he hated to admit it, the disturbance was exactly what he needed to forgo his sadness. His hands made quick work of a new song, a hopeful melody all about seeing someone beautiful in public only to embarrass yourself when you try to approach them, keywords and snippets of lyrics filling the page in a way only legible to him. He didn’t stop, didn’t allow himself to, until his hand started cramping so bad he had to switch over to his laptop for some reprieve. Too focused, he kept making the mistake of sipping on his ruined coffee, gagging every time his tongue met bitter coffee. His empty plate was quickly filled with sugar packets, but that did little to change the flavor. He was midway through another horrible sip when you approached again.

Bashful, looking down at your feet, you held out a new cup and saucer, the shape

distinctly different from the one he was holding. He slowly lowered his cup, pushing his mask over his face, though he doubt you would have noticed. If you weren’t looking down, the blush-covered cheeks were more than enough proof that you would’ve found a different way to avoid eye contact.

“I-I’m sorry about your coffee…” you said softly, holding out the cup again. Taeyong took it, if only to stop the clinking of cup against plate as your hand quivered, his mouth open to respond, when you continued, “I’m still-I’m still learning what drinks are which and I thought your cup was the one for plain coffee but I-...I should have asked before filling it up and ruining your drink. Please forgive me!” You bowed deeply as you finished. He was the one blushing now, standing quickly, one hand still holding the new coffee while the other hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure if he should touch you to tell you that bowing wasn’t necessary at all or break one of the rules and speak.

Before he could decide, you rose just as quickly as you bowed, knocking your shoulder against the hovering cup. As quick as his dance reflexes allowed, Taeyong righted his hand, saving the cup from smashing against the floor, but not stopping the pipping hot coffee from spilling over his thumb and onto the open pages of his notebook below. You cried out as Taeyong did, placing the cup down as quickly as he could so he could stick his burning thumb into his mouth.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” Your apron, barely organized before, exploded in haste on napkins, both them and the other random things you had in the big pocket falling to the floor. A small notepad, more than a couple of pens, straws, and miscellaneous wrappers scattered at his feet as you hastily shoved the thin paper napkins onto his notebook with one hand, trying to salvage as much of the ink and paper as you could, while the other pulled his hand away from his mouth to hastily blow on it. Your eyes were welling with tears now, glittering at the brim of your eyelids, as you tried to do everything yourself. Behind you, he could see your commotion caused more than a few eyes to watch the show, some snickering while others winced sympathetically. Behind the counter, he could see your coworkers trying to keep the line moving while keeping an eye on you. Whether it was to determine if they were needed or because they were worried you were going to do something else horribly embarrassing, he couldn’t tell. When no one approached, and you were getting near frantic with your movements, Taeyong gently reached out a hand, laying it on top of yours where it held his wrist in a vice grip. Slowly, your lips stopped blowing and your hand stopped wiping, tears spilling over. Finally, you met his eyes.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice low. “Thank you for your help.”

You simply searched his eyes for a moment, trying to see how truthful he was in his reassurance, before you gently let your hand slip out from under his. The chatter of the restaurant started up once more, placated by his calm demeanor.

“I’m…I’m…” You couldn’t find the words. Taking a step back, you bowed deeply again. “I’m terribly sorry!” Teayong pulled you up quickly, too nervous at your habit to bow to second guess touching you again.

“It’s alright, really. I’m not seriously hurt, and you got whatever landed on my notebook. It’s too old for me to care now about a little spilled coffee on it.” Your face was riddled with worry, especially as he shook out his hand, trying to cool the red mark on his thumb.

“Oh!” Quickly, you reached into your other apron pocket, pulling out a small tube of burn cream and a bandaid. You hesitated for a second, hand awkwardly held between handing the items to the handsome stranger or helping it apply it. Taeyong hesitated a moment too, before holding out his hand for your to help. Your tears had slowed now, but your tear-stained face coupled with the grateful smile made his heart leap into his throat. “I-You get burned quite a bit when you’re learning to make drinks,” you explained, expertly applying a dab of cream on the worst spot and wrapping it securely in the bandaid. Taeyong flexed his finger, impressed with the range of motion he still had, as you gestured to the countless small burn marks that littered your arms and hands. “It’s probably the thing I’ve gotten best at since starting here, healing a burn.”

“Thank you,” he replied softly. You beamed at him, before worriedly looking down at the table again.

“I’ll have someone bring you a new coffee, since I ruined the last one…two.” You winced, thinking for a moment before leaning down, writing something quickly into his notebook with his discarded pen. When you righted, he noticed it was a number, a small arrow pointing towards the drying stain. “My KakaoTalk, so I can pay for a new notebook.” Before Taeyong could protest, you held up your hand, stopping him. You were back to looking at your feet, avoiding eye contact completely. “Please let me do this. It’s the least I could do.” When he didn’t respond, you nodded once, picking up both cups on the table to get him a new one.

In your desperate desire to escape, you didn’t notice Taeyong’s bright red face, eyes blown out in absolute wonder. No, you were firmly hunched over the espresso machine, getting chewed out by your manager, to notice him let out a giggle, flopping back into his seat and running his burned thumb softly over your number scribbled into his notebook.

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masterlist l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#someonexsomeone #laufeyfest #kpop imagine #nct imagine #nct one shot #kpop one shot #nct 127 imagine #nct 127 one shot #taeyong imagine #lee taeyong imagine #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong one shot #taeyong one shot

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buckys-little-belle · 1 year

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hiii love Ive never really done one of these before so sorry if it’s weird T T

So basically I’m just wondering how u knew u were a little? And if anyone can be one? And like how do u get into littlespace and stay there?

The reason why I’m asking is bc I’ve known about it for a while and have loved the idea but I’ve never been able to get myself there. Bc of some trauma I’ve been through i feel like it would be really healing for me,, but also it just seems like fun and something that I really connect with. I’ve had times where I felt little but it always goes away after I finish reading a little fic or etc. one of my friends made me feel little once but it also didn’t last very long. Idk basically I’m just asking is there a way for me to start regressing? And is there a possibility that I just can’t do it?

<33 Lots of love

- 🌷

Hii! Not weird at all!! Don’t worry!

Just to preface, I'm not an expert, so please not my words aren’t the only possible facts, and please anyone who could answer these questions, comment! or reblog! but I'll do my best.

Can anyone be a little? I'm honestly not sure, to be honest I haven't gone deep into all of the brain stuff surrounding being a little, but to me I think yes. I don't think that there is a specific thing holding some people back from being a little, I genuinely just don't, and maybe I'm wrong, I don't know. I think some people might struggle to truly get into the headspace, it can be a tricky thing to do/control at the beginning, and I often find myself struggling with controlling/getting into the headspace. (By controlling I mean not involuntarily slipping into your little headspace, like when really loud noises happen or someone is mean, and your brain just copes on it's own, something that isn't a bad thing, but can be scary when you aren't able to control what headspace you are in, and when.) So short answer, I think anyone can be a little, but again I could be wrong.

How do you start? SUCH A GOOD QUESTION! I always see some interesting answers to this, which is fine, to each their own, but for someone who's just starting to regress I suggests simply doing activities you enjoyed doing when younger, for me it's coloring. I picked up coloring as a hobby through a tough patch and found my headspace to be so peaceful, little did I know I was actually regressing. Honestly, just embrace your kid side, just do a thing you love and LET YOURSELF ENJOY IT! Don't hold back, don't get mad if you don't feel little, don't try and force anything, just let yourself find joy in whatever you're doing, and let whatever happens happen. Eventually you'll find something that helps, it'll most likely be a few tries before you find what helps you slip, and tools in helping you stay there, it's really all up to little you, just let them flourish. I have been struggling lately to regress, stress and anxiety plaguing me, so I pulled out my bin of Barbies, and the first few times nothing happened, I just enjoyed doing their hair and making sure they all had some cute outfits, but eventually a few days later little me took over, and played with barbies like I did as a kid, and it was great, it just took some time, and that's okay!

Is it possible that you're not one? Maybe? But from what you've said, you seem to have slipped into that headspace, and to me that's a good sign that you are one. It took me a while to realize that I had been slipping for years at that point, my friends always treated me like a little sister, and that helped me feel safe enough to be a kid again, and it seems that maybe you've had a similar experience and that's a good first step.

I do hope that these answers helped, even in the slightest, and if you have any more please, please ask them! I'm an open book and will always be here to answer questions. Also, good luck, please come back and let me know how things go, and feel free to come back and just chat whenever, you're a very sweet anon tulip, and I hope to see you again <3

#anon #🌷 anon

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

crush

pov. you have a crush on your brother’s best friend

request. Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta’s sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please

notes. awww i love this request, i have a fat crush on toge so i enjoyed writing this! i made this a modern high school au, by the way!

You stare disappointedly at the black wrappings of your bento, sighing because your brother took the wrong one again. Waving goodbye to your friend, you made your way to your brother’s classroom, knocking on the door to get his attention. However, it isn’t your brother who’d stopped laughing mid-conversation. Instead, it’s a familiar-looking platinum haired guy, his purple eyes glimmering with mischief as he slapped your brother’s arm.

“Yo, Yuta, I think someone’s looking for you,” you heard him say.

Meanwhile, you just stood there blankly, your throat growing dry because he was cute – like actually handsome boy-next-door cute.

You’ve met lots of cute guys before, but they were all very immature that you found no interest in others. He, on the other hand, was nothing less of polite, shooting up from his seat because your stupid brother was too invested in his video games. The guy flashed you a bright smile, the beauty of his face up close enhanced that you felt your heart squealing.

Not that you’d ever show that, of course, so you just reciprocated with a polite smile to hide your frantic nerves.

“Hi! You here for Yuta-kun?”

“Y-yes.”

Before he could speak, an arm had shoved him aside. Yuta stood before you, his frown apparent while his friend stayed at the side, a smile still playing on his lips. It took all your energy to not stare at him too much in fear he’d easily read through you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“You swapped lunches with me,” you shoved the black bento box to his chest, stepping closer to your brother to whisper in his ear. “Is that a friend of yours?”

“Yeah, he’s Toge. He used to play with us a lot before he moved away, but his family’s back in town. Don’t you remember him?”

“No…”

“Toge, come here!” he called out to his retreating friend, the guy freezing in his tracks before he jogged up to where you were quickly. Oh crap, you kept gushing, he really was cute. He placed an arm around your brother’s shoulder, nodding at you as a greeting. “Remember my sister? You used to play with her a lot when we were kids. You kept stealing her Barbies, remember?”

“I did?” Toge looked shocked, his back bending into a fake bow. “I’m very sorry for that, but don’t worry, I don’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t play with Barbies at this age!” you defended, heat spreading all over your skin when he winked at you. Both of them laughed at your flushed face, and you crossed your arms on your chest, glaring at your brother. Really though, you were just trying to hide the fact you were very attracted to his friend, even more so now that he was actually familiar. “Stupid Yuta-nii.”

“You’re cute,” Toge randomly piped in.

If you were feeling shy before, you couldn’t speak now.

“Dude, don’t talk about my sister like that,” Yuta gagged, slapping his friend on the chest who effortlessly ducked away, his laughter like music in your ears. You stared at him for who knew how long, his happiness absorbed in your body as you found yourself giggling back. Yuta, on the other hand, wasn’t as impressed, rolling his eyes at his friend before turning to you. “You should go back to class. The bell will ring soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded quietly, hesitating for a moment. Surely it wouldn’t be too weird, right? Deciding to heck with it though, you balled your hands into fists, mustering the courage to look him in the eye as you said, “See you, Toge-senpai.”

He simply shrugged his brows up as a farewell, and just like that, you dashed down the hall so fast you put Quicksilver to shame.

Great. Out of all the days it had to storm, it had to be on the rare moment you forgot your umbrella. Unsurprisingly enough, it was Yuta’s fault for making you forget it. Both of you had slept in too much, but instead of being the responsible older brother, he left you to prepare the meals all by yourself while he spent half an hour fixing his hair. In your haste to arrive on school on time, you’d forgotten to pick up your umbrella, and now the misfortune of it slapped you right on the face.

“Tch, how can I go home?” you glared at no one in particular.

Yuta had to stay behind for baseball practice in the covered court, leaving you all alone to take the bus by yourself. Well, not that it mattered, going home alone was way better than listening to your brother rant about video games and girls he wanted to talk to in class.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, brows pinched as you mulled on the different ways you could come back home, you came up with two options.

One, run like hell and risk getting sick from this weather, or two, wait for the rain to subside.

But ugh, you wanted to go home already. Before you knew it, you’d unknowingly pouted, arms hugged to yourself while you cursed your stupid brother a hundred times over in your head. Too lost in your own thoughts, you failed to hear humming from behind you, a scream nearly ripping from your lips when someone planted himself beside you.

“Hey, you’re here!”

You gazed up at him wide-eyed, subconsciously stepping away to keep your beating heart at bay. “H-hello, Toge-senpai.”

“Please, just call me Toge,” he offered, opening his umbrella before his eyes landed on you. Probably realizing you were quite helpless, Toge smiled, nudging you to come closer to him. “Hey, I’ll walk you home. You guys still live in the same block?”

“Yeah.”

And so there you were, debating that maybe Yuta’s carelessness wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, if it would lead to your crush taking you home, then you weren’t complaining. Funny how the weather seemed so gloomy, a huge contrast to the sunshine you radiated at the sheer happiness of living out your most romantic fantasies. It was silly, actually, to crush on your brother’s best friend of all people, but Toge was so nice and handsome – it was kind of impossible not to like him.

In the span of two weeks that you’d known him, he’d been nothing but friendly. And no, you weren’t going to admit you started visiting their classroom more often than before, simply because you wanted to get a glimpse of him.

Toge pulled you out of your lovesick trance, his arm landing on your waist before he shifted you beside him. You noticed he was now closer to the road while you were on the safer side of the sidewalk, and god, did he just step closer? He was close enough that your arms brushed with each step, sending a wave of heat that you bit back by tugging your lips with your teeth.

“For warmth,” he explained as if reading your mind, arm raised lazily in a shrug. “Wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, hiding your face under your scarf.

You and Toge were silent the whole time, but it was a silence you adored. Very rarely that you found comfort in silence with others, but with Toge, it felt so easy – so natural. You hadn’t even realized you were already at home, Toge chuckling at your spaced out self. He bid his farewell then, his back facing yours as he walked away when you blurted, “Oh, my parents aren’t home. I think you should stay first to let the rain calm down a bit. You live a little far from school, right?”

Toge looked a little surprised, his eyes shooting up to the sky with a sigh. Inwardly, you were screaming because you just invited him inside, but Toge was already waddling back to you before you could regret it.

“Yeah, thanks for the invitation. I don’t think I should go home in this weather too,” he said, following you across the threshold. He looked around in awe, his shoes left in the front door before he crossed the living room with you, his eyes shining with nostalgia and happiness. “Wow, your place hasn’t changed one bit. I missed being here.”

You flashed him a smile. Turns out it wasn’t that bad – Toge being comfortable made you comfortable. Aside from the nervousness partnered with shyness from having a crush, you applauded yourself for being able to look him in the eye as you asked, “Do you want tea, coffee…?”

“Water is fine. Thanks,” he shrugged off his jacket and placed it behind a chair, chuckling when you nodded too fast. Toge, much to your dismay (or delight?!) trailed behind you in the kitchen, having no business looking that handsome as he leaned against the counter. Him being unaware of his effect on you was even worse, and you bit the inside of your cheeks, trembling as you poured him a glass of water.

From behind you, Toge snickered, “Why are you so jittery? Do I make you nervous?”

“A-a little.”

“Why? Am I intimidating?” he appeared beside you out of nowhere, so close that you could count his lashes. You leaned back with a muffled squeal, eyes wide at the proximity. Toge, as always, seemed completely unaware of it, taking his time to assess your features with a hand on his chin as if all the answers he was looking for was written all over your face. “Yuta told me I was very easy to approach though.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…” you stuttered, giving in with weak knees and turning your head to the side. Your heart, your poor heart! “Crap, I hate myself.”

“You were saying something?”

“I, uhm, it’s just,” you panicked, mind failing to function now of all times. “I think…I have a crush on you?”

The room fell silent.

Realization dawning on you, you flattened your palms together in a begging motion. Toge merely blinked back at you, and you were so close to just kneeling to the gods to rid yourself of this moment forever. “Please forget everything I said, I’m so sorry! Gosh, Yuta’s going to kill me, forget I said anything, I didn’t mean to be weird.”

“Hey, chill, it’s fine!” he laughed, helping you get up just before you fell in exasperation. Then, he smirked at you, wiggling his brows in the process. “I kind of knew that anyway, to be honest.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, you asked me to marry you when we were kids,” he informed you, but the memory never played back in your mind. It wasn’t a lie though, you really did ask him that when you were kids. Embarrassment taking hold of you, you groaned behind your palms, feeling like your heart was going to explode every now and then.

“Oh my gosh…”

“It’s okay,” Toge peeled your arms away from your face, his grin nothing less of teasing the moment he’s greeted by your shyness. “I did say yes – let’s just wait after high school, yeah?”

#inumaki toge x reader #toge x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki to/ge fluff #inumaki to/ge x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen romance #inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge x reader imagines #inumaki to/ge romance #inumaki to/ge x reader romance #inumaki toge x reader romance #inumaki toge x reader fluff #inumaki toge imagines #PLEASEEE I LIKE HIM SO MUCH BRRRRR #suki: 2.4k milestone event

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kissme-hs · 3 years

Note

Cute Chris evans fluff 💓

Hey my loves. I apologise for not writing in a while, my job and personal life haven’t been so great. But I will try to update as much as possible. Requests are open. Hope you all enjoy it :,)

Reblog+ liked if you enjoyed please!

Pairing: Chris Evans x fem! Reader

Warnings: none.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅

Life isn’t easy. It never was. There are days where everything comes crashing down, there are days when you’re at your lowest, there are days when you’re in pain—so much pain that you decide to keep it yourself because no one would understand.

But the those days, those crashing down minutes, that pain eases when you’ve someone to share it with. A person who listens to all your doubts you’ve about yourself and never fails to remind you how those doubts are nothing but a slip of mind from your perfect self. A person who promises to stay by your side through thick and thin and they do indeed stand on the grounds of their words they uttered in complete sense.

And the sad truth is, not everyone finds their ‘someone’. Not everyone is blessed enough to find their person, though they do but not so easily. But you however, lied somewhere in between. Never having a luck in finding that person who wouldn’t leave you wo thing months when they come to realisation that you’re not perfect, when they realise that you’ve flaws and you’re not one of the plastic barbies like they imagines. Everyone left, eventually.

Except Chris.

That day when you were weeping in his arms after having a not so self warming moment, when you were doubting his decisions for choosing a normal girl over those glorious women. To say, that you, for the first time let those hurtful comment get through that tough skin you built over the years, he held you. He held you so tight and didn’t let go. Not even once.

Your tears were damping his navy blue shirt he wore, he cradled your crumbling body in his arms joining you on the floor. His cheek pressed on top of your head as you clutched the soft cotton material of his clothing in pain. Those words thrown at you pierced through your skin and he saw it. But in that moment of you crying, at your lowest and not the prettiest with ugly tears and broken heart, lost self esteem—he stayed by your side.

That moment of pain was your golden memory because that’s the moment when you realised how this one was different. Any other would’ve left not wanting to deal with a broken state person, in this date everyone is busy fixing themselves that they all want someone who doesn’t require touch ups. And no one realises, that we all are a little broken at the end of the day.

And for Chris finding you was his biggest victory. He’s one of those mentioned earlier who can’t find Love easily, given up on hope to find love was the state he was in when he found you. His heart accepted the fate of him might being alone for the rest of his life seeing his friends getting married and having kids already.

It felt as if god answered all his prayers when he found you. You were the person he missed all this time not knowing who it really was. Not everyone understood him, to the world he might be a handsome guy with no flaws whose heart was made of pure gold but inside those four walls of his house where he sits idle left to wander alone with his insecurities made him who he really was.

But the day when you decided to stay overnight within a heartbeat to take care of him all night long because of the burning fever that took over his body, putting cold cloth over his forehead to make the sickness go away—not caring how it might make you lose your job because of the day off, was the day he felt his heart whisper, ‘she’s the one buddy, we found her’.

He felt like crying, how could someone care for him so dearly? How could someone be with him aware of the imperfections he possessed? How could someone ever love him so much to the point where he was for the first time felt as if all his inner darkness doesn’t exists anymore. How could someone?

But the answers to those questions nestled within the questions itself. It simply, she loved him just like he loved her.

So when one Friday evening when he walks into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly made lasagna filling the air made his mouth water and his heart swell with the view of his love stirring the soup with a soft humming coming through her lips, he couldn’t t help but wrap his arms around your body. Frank Sinatra faintly playing on the record player he got from the vintage store.

His lips quickly coming in contact with the skin of your supple neck making you giggle as you put the wooden spatula on the tray to turn around to face him.

“Well hello there mister” you smiled wrapping your arms around his neck. His own lips turning up to give the most adorning smile you’ve ever seen, his eyes searched yours. Though he stayed quite enjoying the moment, he said a lot.

“Can I have this dance my love?”

“But honey the food-“ you couldn’t even finish your senetence when his arms snuck behind your from your side to turn off the stove and pull you to the middle of the kitchen.

He took your hand in his and placed the other on his shoulder making you giggle. You shook your head when he placed a soft delicate kiss on your nose making you scrunch before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, so close that if you look up at him you’re lips would touch his in a ever so light kiss. His chest pressed against yours as he swayed your bodies to the soft beat of the music resting his cheek on your head just like he did that night.

Closing your eyes you swayed along, where you rested your head against his chest. And you swore it felt as if you two were the only ones on this earth, it felt so heavenly. With his skin against your and your heartbeat synchronised nothing else mattered. He had his whole world in his arms and you were held by your world.

“I love you so much.” Chris whispered pulling away a little making you look up at him. His eyes sparkled with your sight staring at him with those eyes he lived so much, and a face of an angel.

His heart skipped a beat just by thinking how much he loved you and you loved him back just the same way, unconditionally.

“I love you too” you whispered before he leaned in and pressed his lips to your in a soft kiss, the kiss wasn’t rushed but slow. It was like as if you both were trying to make love through that kiss.

But it didn’t last forever as you wished, he pulled away after a minute or so making you whine slightly. His eyes stared into yours like if he was trying to find an answer of a question he was yet to ask. He brought your intertwined hands to his lips to peck the skin of your hand.

“Marry me?”

“Huh?”

“Marry me baby, I just want to you to be my forever, I want to grow old with you, have babies with you, die with you. I never thought I’d find someone who’ll love me more than I love myself and I swear everyday I wake up as the happiest man alive all because you’re in my life.” He whispered and you could see his eyes tearing up along yours. Though you’ve been together over an year and talked about marriage, this was completely out of the blue and a dream come true.

You stared at him with his tear dripping down your eyes as he slowly pulled away to reveal the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen and slowly gets on one knees, before he could even get comeplety down on his knee you pulled him up by cupping his cheeks and pressing your lips to his.

You could feel his warm tears falling on your cheeks mixing with yours and then making their way on your lips as one.

“Yes” you whispered against his lips and he waited no second in sliping that elegant on your finger before pulling in again for another kiss, first kiss as engaged lovers.

“I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you more Chris”

He found his forever and so did you.

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donghyuckcuyhgnod · 3 years

Text

[5:12 pm]

to say that donghyuck was nervous was an understatement. sure, he hoped that your parents would like him—but would they approve of his lifestyle? being an idol, he knew he couldn’t be there for you as much as you both would have liked; yet, it was something the two of you were willing to sacrifice for your relationship. of course, you had told your parents all about the lovely donghyuck that you happened to call your boyfriend. you had been dating for nearly two years now, and he had yet to meet your parents. surely they hated him for that, right? however, you constantly assured him that they knew he was an idol with very limited free time, and they understood.

he previously had some brief conversations with your mother over the phone a few times, but his nerves were still shaking and his heart was still hammering in his chest at the thought of your family not liking him. you had grown close with his, and he hoped that your parents and siblings loved him just as much as his family loved you. noticing the silence in the car (your boyfriend was never silent), you glanced over at him only to see his eyes shaking and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly deep in thought. his eyes were trained on the road, both of his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“hyuck,” you called out softly, his eyes darting to yours for a split second, his features immediately softening at the sight of your comforting smile. he knew that look; it was the calm down, everything’s going to be fine look. he had seen it plenty of times, mainly when he was nervous before performing and you were there to calm his nerves. you were good at that.

responding to your unspoken words, he sighed. “i know, i know. i’m just nervous, okay? i mean, how could i not be? i’m meeting your entire family tonight. including your siblings. oh, god! what if your older brother hates me? i’m dead meat.”

you chuckled, “hyuck, my brother loves nct’s music. he’ll probably be fanboying over you the second you walk into my house.” hyuck groaned in frustration, letting his head fall to the steering wheel while at a red light. you smiled, secretly enjoying the rare show of hyuck’s nervous habits. you thought it was kind of cute how much he wanted to make a good impression on your family.

donghyuck let out a shaky breath when the two of you pulled up to your house, a light smile taking over your features as you inspected the place where you grew up. after moving to seoul for your internship at sm entertainment, you weren’t really given the time to visit your family, for they were nearly a three hour drive from the city you now called home. still, a sense of nostalgia washed over you. you missed your family dearly.

“ready, baby?” you said, unbuckling yourself as you climbed out of the car, smoothing down your skirt and eyeing your boyfriend with amusement.

“not at all,” he muttered, before stepping out of the car as well. you chuckled, making your way to his side and stepping in front of him.

“i know you’re nervous, hyuckie, but don’t be. they’re gonna love you,” you said, trailing your hand up his arm, lightly caressing his hot, blushing cheek at the nickname that only you called him. he wrapped his arms around your middle, snuggling into you and taking a deep breath. you cooed at him, one hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other playing with the ends of the hair on his neck.

you took ahold of his cheeks, forcing him to pull away from you. he closed his eyes, resting his forehead on yours as he sighed in contentment, and for a moment, all of his worries were forgotten. the only thing he cared about was the way your embrace felt like home to him, and he wondered if you felt the same despite the inviting house that you stood in front of. your lips felt like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, wrapping him in the utmost of comfort and warmth when connected with his. the soft sweater you wore that was bunched in his hands felt like a cloud, the smell of your laundry detergent and soft vanilla perfume filling his scents with everything that reminded him of you.

“i love you. no matter what happens,” you whispered, breaking the soft and gentle kiss between the two of you. you pressed a featherlight kiss to his nose, his eyes shining underneath the golden rays of the sky as the sun began to set. he nodded, giving himself a mini pep-talk before following you to your doorstep with his hand tightly grasping yours. he put on the kindest smile he could muster, unaware of the ten eyes sneakily watching the two of you through the living room window, smiles on all five of their faces.

–

your family sure did love donghyuck, alright.

“you were so cute as a baby, y/n. what happened?” your boyfriend teased you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your younger brother, aged twelve, laughed at the joke. you playfully rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder lightly as he chuckled, giving your younger brother a high five. you continued to look through your baby photos on your living room couch. you felt completely at ease in your beloved home, surrounded by your family who you loved dearly. even better, you were sharing this moment with the love of your life. you were in heaven.

“oppa, look what i found!” your seven-year-old sister yelled, running down the stairs with two barbie dolls in hand. she giggled, “this one looks like you!” she shoved the tan, brunette ken doll into his hands, her eyes crinkling in happiness and delight as he smiled at her.

“you’re right, it kind of does!” he said enthusiastically, despite the fact that the ken doll did not, in fact, look anything like your boyfriend. the young girl was cute for trying, though. “and she looks just like you!” he gasped in fake disbelief, pointing to the other barbie doll in her hand. she giggled, giving him the biggest and shiniest eye-smile as she plopped on the couch right next to donghyuck, shyly looking up at him. you cooed at the sight.

“looks like you’ve got some competition, sis,” your brother says, older by three years. you laughed, causing donghyuck’s ears to perk up. diverting his attention from your little sister who was desperately trying to play barbies with him, he looked at your smiling figure and his heart nearly burst out of his chest. you were laughing with your brother (although, he wasn’t sure what about; and frankly, he didn’t care at the moment), and donghyuck thinks that he’s never seen someone so beautiful. after getting to know your family while eating the delicious meal that your mother had made, it all made sense to him.

your kindness, and the way you talked to others all made sense when he had met your parents. the way they welcomed him with open arms made him feel like he was already part of the family. the same smile that made his heart run a mile a minute whenever you looked at him was the same smile that your mother greeted him with. the kind glimmer in your eyes that donghyuck could get lost in was the same look in your father’s eyes—nice to finally meet you, son.

the way your younger siblings clearly admired you like no other, and the proud look in your older brother’s eyes when you talked about your experience as an intern while passing him the mashed potatoes. all of it; the family portraits hung on the wall, the coziness of the home you grew up in. donghyuck could only imagine your memories in the house, and it created an unexplainably intimate feeling in his heart. the overall atmosphere of a simple, yet tightly knit home—it radiated you. seeing you like this, in a way, made donghyuck feel even closer to you.

he didn’t realize he was staring at you with a smile on his face until you poked his cheek. “hyuck? are you okay?” you lightly chuckled, “you’ve been staring at me for two minutes, now.”

“right, yeah, sorry,” he breathily laughed, his cheeks flaring up with a red tint, shaking the overwhelming feelings of you out of his head. “i’m fine. i’m perfect, actually.”

“okay, whatever you say,” you teased, pinching his flushed cheeks and causing him to scrunch his face in displeasure. suddenly, your mother called you from the kitchen, asking for your help with the dessert she was almost done preparing. you happily complied, a sweet sure thing, mom! escaping your lips.

“i’ll be right back, baby. just keep these demons occupied for me,” you jokingly pleaded, causing donghyuck to laugh a little at your words. he happily nodded, before you kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the kitchen. he watched as you disappeared from his side, smiling to himself.

“you’re really whipped for my little sister, huh?” your older brother said from the other side of the living room, crossing his arms with a teasing glint. donghyuck nervously laughed, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous manner. he looked down at his shoes in slight embarrassment, your brother smiling knowingly at the shy boy.

donghyuck sighed, “you have no idea.”

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jeogiyall · 3 years

Text

Growing Pains; Song Mingi

Word count; 21.5k

Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely

Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “

Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong

Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol

A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!

It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years.

But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.

“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves.

“Oh it’s okay, um…”

“Mingi.”

“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.

“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time.

“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.

“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.

“Okay.”

The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.

But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.

“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.

And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.

You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.

“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.

“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them.

From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.

Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though.

The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.

“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted.

“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too.

“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them.

But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.

“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.

“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.

“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.

“Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.

The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food.

“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up.

“Yea.”

“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.

“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”

“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.

“Once or twice.”

The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’ narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.

When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow.

“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.

“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.”

“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding.

“Really.”

He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t.

“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.

“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.

“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.

“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil.

“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.

“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.

“Whatever you say.”

Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him.

But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.

It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm.

So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.

Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.

Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.

It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’

“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far.

“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses.

“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“You don’t have to, but-”

Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless.

“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.

“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years.

Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.

“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.

“That you look pretty.”

It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.

So it leaves an impression, to say the least.

Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity.

It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.

When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.

“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”

“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”

And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.

“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.

You have no reason to be upset.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.

Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.

The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa.

Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay.

Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’

After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.

You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.

Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class.

There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing.

It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it.

Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.

You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.

All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy.

San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things.

“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation.

‘This feels lonely.’

In a way, you suppose that it is.

“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.

“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.

“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely.

There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.

Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.

“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.

“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.

“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”

And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.

“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra.

“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.

“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.

“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside.

When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled.

“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet.

“I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...

If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year.

One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards.

Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.

But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings.

Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.

“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.

“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.

“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”

“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.

“It’s seven fifteen.”

“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.

“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.

“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.

“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange.

“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well.

“We’re taking a detour.”

“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.

“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers.

“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon.

“We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.

“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.

“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.

“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing.

“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing.

“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.

Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.

“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi.

You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete.

“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.”

“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.

“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?

Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.

There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph.

If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it.

Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him.

“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong.

“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.

They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths. Overall it’s not such a bad night.

When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.

“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.

“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.

“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.

Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.

So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.

Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle.

You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.

Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.

You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.

And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this?

When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now.

When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.

“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.

“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.

And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.

You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?

But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while.

This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises.

“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.

“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”

He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.

“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.

“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile.

When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.

“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”

“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.

But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon.

Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.

“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.

Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.

“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”

“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.

“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment.

“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.

“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.

You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.

“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”

The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.

A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.

“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard.

“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.

“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.

“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee?

“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”

“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.

“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear.

“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.

“No need to thank me, we’re friends.”

“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.

“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.

“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.

“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.

You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.

So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.

“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest.

“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-

“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.

“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.

“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.

“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it.

“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling.

“Mingi I-“

“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed.

“Mingi that's not what-“

“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.

“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever.

“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”

He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.

But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.

It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.

You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.

You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.

He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.

“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there.

“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster.

“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are.

“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.

Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”

And really, what are you supposed to say?

“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words.

“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you.

“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.

“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.

You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.”

He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.

Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.

The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least.

The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.

“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees.

“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”

“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.

“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump.

“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.

“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.

“I never said that you aren’t good.” You breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around.

“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.

“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go.

“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.

“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over.

And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well.

Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with.

It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute.

You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi.

When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback.

Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly.

It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun.

Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.

Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”

“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to.

“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.

“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.

“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.

“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.

But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.

You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop.

Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.

The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.

You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.

“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”

“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”

“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.

“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.

“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.”

A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’

The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.

But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight… Mostly about tonight.

You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.

“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out.

“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead.

“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore.

“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand.

The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.

“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.

“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?”

The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.

You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.

“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.

“It sounds lovely.”

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t.

Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.

“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”

You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.

You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?

“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.

You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.

You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.

His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.”

You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.

“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.

“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”

“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.

“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.

“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.

“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied.

“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide.

“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows.

Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room.

“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you.

“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”

“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”

When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.

‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’

It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.

After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.

You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.

There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth.

That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.

But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.

He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car.

“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.

“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.

“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.”

The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.

The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.

“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.

“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.

“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.

“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.

“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.”

Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.

You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.

“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either.

“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”

“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.

“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.

You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.

“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.

“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.

“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does.

“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand.

“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again.

He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.

When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.

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jungwonlvrr · 4 years

Text

DEAR DRACO MALFOY

Pairings: Draco x Female Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: no warnings

Y/n: your name

Y/b/n: your girl best friends name

Y/h/n: your house name

Summary: y/n send letters to Draco but the more letters she sends, the less oblivious she gets of her feelings for him.

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Dear The Slytherin Prince,

Hey! It’s your best friend, Y/n. You told me you really liked y/b/n. I’m sorry I ran away without giving you an answer. I talked with her and she likes you too! That’s crazy isn’t it? She wants you to meet her in the astronomy tower after classes.

Your best friend, Y/n

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Dear My Best Friend,

I heard you two got together. You guys would make a cute couple. I’m quite worried you’re going to leave me for her. But you wouldn’t would you? You promised. Today, I rode buckbeat with the twins, It was quite fun. Bummer you didn’t tag along lol.

Your Favorite y/h/n, Y/n.

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Dear Draco Alfredo,

I see you showed y/b/n our secret hiding spot. That place was only suppose to be between you and I but it’s okay. You two are the couple so I can’t fight and get mad lol. It’s just a bummer because it’s not so secret for you and I anymore. Today, you skipped classes, it’s not out do the ordinary for you to do so but Y/b/n skipped classs also and she never skips. I assume you two met up in our the secret hide out.

Your best wingwoman, Y/n

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Dear Draco,

It’s been two weeks since I last sent you a letter. I was busy. And two weeks since our hiding spot became yours and y/b/n’s hiding spot. That place feels not special anymore so I stopped going there. I’m glad you’re still speaking to me though! I just miss our adventures. We should go on a adventure soon!

Your best friend, Y/n

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Dear The Slytherin Barbie,

Hey! You told me we would go on our adventures, I was really happy until you brought her along. Don’t get it wrong, I’m happy for you both! I just missed the me and you times, it barely happens nowadays. You’re too caught up with Y/b/n to spend time with your best friend. It makes me upset.

Your best friend, Y/n.

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Dear The one and only Draco,

Thanks for getting me soup today, I didn’t feel so well and you realized that. I guess we still have our best friend telepathy hahah. You’re missing out on action though, last night the twins set up fireworks in the forest! I know right, crazy isn’t it. It’s kind of weird experiencing fun things without you around, I’m too use to being around you haha. I also heard you gave Y/b/n the bracelet I made you, I was kind of, maybe really upset. I put a lot of thought into that bracelet.

Your one and only, Y/n.

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Dear Draco Tomato,

It’s been a month since I last sent you a letter, I was busying studying for the exams. I don’t even know why I keep writing to you when I could just talk to you. I guess I don’t have the confidence to talk to you anymore since you seemed to be really busy with your girlfriend. You don’t even reply back so it’s embarrassing sometimes but I know you read them, Goyle told me. He just told me you didn’t have the time to reply which is compeletly fine with me! Your girlfriend must have found that soft side of yours quick, you two are so PDA now , it feels so weird since you’re not normally affectionate.

Your best friend, Y/n.

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Dear Draco,

The more I watch you and your girlfriend do your things, the more I realize I have this heavy feeling in my heart that makes me really sad. Honestly, I think it’s just the anxiety I have stored up for the upcoming exams. A day alone with you could definitely cool it down.

Y/n

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Dear Draco Malfoy,

Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something to upset you? I’m really sorry if I did! What can I do to make it up for you? Oh yeah, I’ll buy you your favorite, chocolate frogs! You better forgive me, I’m paying for this lol.

From you know, Y/n

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Dear The Slytherin,

I hope you enjoyed the chocolate frogs! You talked to today which made me expectionally happy. I get so happy when me and you have a conversation, it could be the smallest and my day will be brightened!how do you do these things?

Your Best friend, Y/n

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Dear Draco Draco Draco,

You’re ignoring me again. That hurts you know. It makes me really upset, giving me a empty feeling in my heart. I miss my best friend. You can’t do this to me.

Your best friend, Y/n

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Dear Draco,

Stop ignoring me. You’re acting as if I don’t exist anymore! What did I do wrong? It’s been 3 weeks of this constant ignoring. It really hurts, Malfoy. You don’t know how many tears are being spent of your stupidness. I’m your best friend! Don’t you remember? Please don’t forget me. I know you’re reading this, Draco. Please reply, I miss you.

Your still best friend, Y/n

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Dear Malfoy,

Today, you told me you didn’t want to be friends with anymore. I’m confused, I didn’t do anything wrong. It was so sudden, I didn’t expect this ending for us, I mean sure you were being an ass and ignoring me but I thought you were just being Draco. I’m too numb to cry right now. I miss you, kiddo.

Your ex best friend, Y/n.

__________________________________

Dear Malfoy,

I heard Y/b/n was the reason you didn’t want to be friends anymore. I don’t know why I even called her my girl best friend. She stabbed me in the back, she knew how much you meant to me. I guess you were my only real friend and I lost that too. You were a real friend until you started dating her, pathetic isn’t it?.

Your ex best friend, Y/n.

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Dear Draco Malfoy,

I don’t even know why I continue to send you letters as if we are on good terms. I really want to be on good terms but you clearly don’t want that. Today I also found out from Crabbe that you threw away that chocolate frog I have bought for you. That hurt deeply. It feels like actual knives are being carved into my heart, every single day. When I see you, I feel so at home and I just want to hug you and cry while calling you mean.

Your ex best friend, Y/n.

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Dear Draco,

It’s been 2 months, I know I shouldn’t call you by your first name anymore but I miss you. I’m not mad at you anymore, I just want my best friend back. Why did things have to turn out this way? You’re really happy with you girlfriend, I can tell. You never smiled that big with me. I keep holding onto us like we are going to come back to each other.

Your ex best friend, Y/n,

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Dear Malfoy,

I know you’re still reading these. Maybe to make fun of me, I don’t know anymore. But recently I found something out. It’s quite a shock to me. I’m in love with you, Malfoy. The way I feel for you isn’t a normal way to feel for a friend, I’m in love. Only love makes you this crazy, Professer Mcgonnal told me. I think she’s referring to me sending letters almost everyday, expecting a good outcome. I’m too deep in love with you, from the way you talk to the way you move, from the way your blond hair falls into your forehead, from the way your grey eyes wander the rooms, from the way your voice called out my name so naturally, from the way you use to hug me and hum on my bad days, from the way you took me sledding and from the way your lips curved into a perfect smile. I fell in love with you and your personality, ignoring your toxic traits. For I wasn’t enough, what we had wasn’t enough that you chose her over me. Oh what you do for love.

Your secret lover, Y/n.

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Dear Malfoy,

Your girlfriend found my letter and her and her gang beat me up for it. She doesn’t understand. I would never try to sabotage your relationship with her. I just wanted to express my feelings, clearly I can’t even do that. Maybe it was wrong for me to give you a love confession but I wasnt trying to get you to be with me. She wants me to never send letters to you again, but she doesn’t have to know I’m sending this letter. You’re still my best friend in my heart, Draco.

Your ex best friend, Y/n.

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Dear Draco Malfoy,

Hey, it’s been a couple of months. I hope you’re doing well. I finally come to my closure. I’m moving on from this chapter of heartbreak and misery. You were a chapter in my life, a really really big and important one, but I was just a page in yours. I guess all good things come to an end eventually. I’m getting happier and I’m finally moving on from you. Of course I still love you! You’re still my best friend in my heart like I said. But it’s over now. I’m accepting that. You’re still with her, after all this time. I’m really happy for you both, really!

Y/n

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Dear Draco,

You looked awful for the past week. Are you doing okay? I know I said I’ve moved on but I can still send letters to check up on you, you still matter to me. Y/b/n seemed to not care that you looked emotionally tired. She just kept going on about her drama. It makes me sad, you deserve someone who will listen to you like how you listen to her. I can tell you love her a lot.

Y/n

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Dear Draco,

It’s been about a month. I found someone! I’ve officially moved on. Don’t be sad lol, as if you would. His name is Neville Longbottom. I think you know him. He’s really sweet and I don’t deserve him one bit. He bought me my favorite candies yesterday, it made me heart feel so soft and warm inside. He’s adorable. He makes me really happy, I hope you find that soon since Y/b/n isn’t doing a good job at that, lol.

Y/n

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Dear Draco,

I heard what happened, She cheated. Of course she would. I mean I didn’t expect it but it’s not a surprise either. She honestly really did like you at the beginning of your relationship with her, I don’t know what happened. You’re still welcomed to come back to this chapter of my life, I’ll gladly accept my best friend back. Just no more romantic feelings included. Just the old me and you. Oh yeah, about me and Neville, he’s really a sweetheart, i think I’m in love. He makes me feel a way you didn’t. Like I’m loved and special.

Y/n

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Dear Draco,

So we’re friends again. I’m glad. I missed you kiddo. I’m glad I’m getting my best friend back. Let’s make a plan and meet up and catch up. Wouldn’t that sound lovely?

————————————

Dear Draco,

It’s been a week of catching up and our best friend connection came back quickly. Your ex isn’t very happy about you and I becoming friends again but it doesn’t matter.

Y/n

———————————————————

Dear Y/n,

Yes I’ve read all your letters. They’re really sweet and I’m now realizing how much you cared. It’s been about a year now and I’m rereading your letters. You’re my best friend still, and we’re still like two peas in a pod. I’m happy for you and Neville. Happy late one year to you two though. He seems to the perfect one for you, I can see the love in both of your eyes. Maybe I’m selfish for saying this but I wish I were Neville. I wasted my love on someone who wasn’t worth it when I had someone right in front of me who loved me better and more than Y/b/n ever would. You’re still the same prankster I grew up with. I’m really sorry I broke you badly last year. I really am sorry. I never did want to stop being your friend, I loved you (as a friend ofc) but she made me choose between her and you and my foolishness was too blinded by love to realize what I was throwing away. Also, I did eat the chocolate frog you got me, don’t be sad lol. I fallen in love with you through the year we’ve tried again. Maybe I was always in love with you, maybe I just didn’t know and went for your then best friend. When I found out you were in love with me, I felt these waves of emotions come over me. I was happy but sad but confused. I’m sorry I let y/b/n hands onto that letter, you didn’t deserve what those girls did to you. So to my best friend. I’m in love with you. It’s my turn for this one sided love but it’s unfair that your one sided story with me is worse than mine since I know you wouldn’t leave me for anything. I’m really happy for you and Neville. But I watch your eyes as he walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky. he’s got you mesmerized while I die.

#draco imagine #draco x y/n #Draco #draco malfoy #draco Malfoy imagine #harry potter #harry potter x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x slytherin

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say-writes-sometimes · 3 years

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"So maybe I am jealous"

Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nothing really but slight language, heavy kissing

a/n: This is just Nathan getting jealous when you go to the bar, he starts getting a little possessive

This is my first Nathan Fic so yeah, constructive criticism is definitely wanted 💛

As you were cleaning the windows of the community center you were not oblivious to the glances Nathan threw at you. This had been going on for a while now and you were desperately waiting for him to finally make a move. He was usually too cocky for his own good, but when you actually wanted him to be honest and upfront he kept his pretty lips sealed.

You thought your hints were quite obvious, the way you laughed at his bad jokes and smiled at his disgusting antics. Nathan didn't seem to pick up on all of this though.

Wiping down the soapy window, you spied a young man walking through the community center looking around rather lost. You walked past Nathan, sparing him a lingering gaze he didn't notice and stalked through the double doors into the community center.

-"hey, I saw you wandering around in there multiple times, uhm anyway can I help you find your way?"

-"yeah that would be nice. This place is like a labyrinth and I keep on walking the same halls over and over again"

-"oh, believe me I know. Where can I guide you... ?", you asked noticing you didn't know his name yet and letting your sentence drifting off into nothingness.

- "I'm sorry, it's Ken, I am looking for Sally, do you happen to know her?"

-" I'm [y/n]. I know Sally, she must be wandering around here somewhere doing whatever she does all day long, but I can show you to her office if you like?"

-"Thank you [y/n], you are my saviour!"

You chuckled lightly at his comment and started to lead him to Sally's office, still smiling softly to yourself. Ken was a good looking young fella, there was no denying that. Easy conversation flowed between the two of you as you passed the window the other five were currently cleaning. You could feel their gazes on you as you passed. Nathan's eyes followed you far longer down the halls than you would have expected.

-"What is she doing there with that twat?", Nathan exclaimed rather irritated.

-"What do ya think, dickhead, she's talking to him", Kelly stated matter-of-factly while rolling her eyes at Nathan. His thoughts kept bothering him. He didn't know why he was so irritated by you hanging around with another guy, it's not like there was something going on between them, was there?

You arrived Infront of the office doors and saw Sally sitting inside talking animately on the phone.

-"I should get going before she sees me. I don't want to get any more work put on my shoulders today. See yah around sometime?", you said hurriedly, really not wanting Sally to catch you there when you had work to finish.

-"wait!", Ken called out to you as you turned around, "would you like to go out for a drink tonight?", he finished, his cheeks starting to glow in soft hues of red. His smile stayed on, though, and turned quite cheeky. He was up for mischief and you most definitely knew it. He actually had the balls to ask you out, unlike the guy you set your eyes on. Getting your mind of Nathan for a night won't hurt right?

-"yes I would like that"

-"I will meet you here at seven then [y/n]?"

You agreed before bidding your goodbyes and hurrying back to the windows, smiling goofily.

"Mind telling us who the guy was [y/n]?", Alisha asked smirking, nudging a very grumpy looking Nathan.

"Uhm, that was Ken, wanted to talk to Sally I guess", you answered, unsure where this conversation would lead.

"he looks like he could give you right a good time, you know?", Alisha added, evil smirk broadening, splitting her face.

Nathan grumbled a quiet "I'm done" under his breath while turning to leave.

"I might find out t'night, we're going out for a couple pints at the bar later", you answered not knowing whether or not you wanted Nathan to hear about your plan. The question answered itself as soon as you finished when Nathan twirled back around, eyebrows pulled together and exclaimed: "Oh really? Have fun shaggin' the bastard then tonight". You noticed the sarcastic tone in his voice and for a split second you thought you heard a pinch of pain in his voice, but the thought disappeared as soon as Nathan stomped away.

"What's the matter with 'im?", Kelly wondered out loud. The answer was unknown to you all, Kelly probably hearing your thoughts trying to put the pieces together.

Later in the locker room you took your time, hoping to get a moment alone with Nathan but he seemed to be too much in a hurry to get away from you. He did not look back, he didn't even say goodbye to anyone that day. You tried to shrug it of as well as you could while changing out of your orange jumpsuit.

At seven sharp you reached the Community Center and saw Ken already waiting for you, looking at his watch absentmindedly. As you reached him you couldn't help but smile. He was dressed in Jeans and a dress shirt. You looked out of place dressed in your usual jeans and sweatshirt.

-"You look lovely tonight [y/n]", Ken beamed at you.

-"Thank you, you don't look too shabby yourself there", you answered, slightly blushing at his words.

You walked to the bar close to each other but not quite touching. Smalltalk flooded the cool evening air and you welcomed the comfortable heat inside the bar he chose, as you stepped over the threshold.

He was the definition of a gentleman all throughout the date. Polite, charming. But something put you off, it seemed forced and not genuine. Nonetheless you enjoyed yourself and you had a good time.

He walked you home that night, confidently grasping your hand, his grip was tight and not comforting at all, but you brushed it off. When the two of you arrived at your doorstep you lingered for a few moments.

-"so this is it. That's me right here."

The moment you said that Ken leaned down and his face closed in on yours. Shocked and overwhelmed by his sudden action you turned your head away. His lips brushing your cheeks instead. He pulled away, "when will I see you again?", he sighed.

-"soon", was the only thing you muttered as you turned and opened your door, slipping inside and leaning against the closed door, letting out the breath you held.

As you walked to Community Service early the next morning you thought back to the little date you had the night prior. Even though it brought a slight smile to your face and a glow to your skin, it also made you shiver slightly.

Last night after the community service Nathan left the locker room as fast as he could. He didn't want to talk to [y/n] then, he doesn't want to now either. In his tiny mind you chose that bastard over him. So that night he sat alone on the balcony, letting his legs tumble down swinging them lightly. He had pizza that night, but the knot in his stomach didn't let him finish it. He himself couldn't tell what was wrong. A scowl decorated his usually carefree face.

"Ken? What's that for a Barbie doll shit name?", he mumbled to himself. But there is no way he could be jealous of that wanker.

Nathan looked into the mirror. He had it all, face, body hell his hair should be enough to sweep [y/n] of her feet.

He was back to his cocky self when you entered the locker room, slight spring in your step and a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

"Hey there, how are you today?", you greeted him, trying to sound casual.

"Amazing, why wouldn't I be ? How was your date with Barbie?", he bit back.

"Is somebody jealous?", you teased wondering where this new found confidence came from.

"Why would I be jealous of him? I mean have you seen him? Have yah seen me? ", Nathan replied hastily, you could see his tough exterior faltering slightly.

"Nathan, I think you are", you were getting more and more sure of yourself, some might even say you were getting cocky.

"So yeah maybe I am jealous but what does that matter anyway now? You got that dickhead with ya now", he didn't even try to hide his sarcastic tone.

"Who told you that, I am nobody's property", you told Nathan as you stepped closer to him, "I think you're cute when you're jealous, Nathan".

"I am not cute [y/n], do you want me to proof that to yah?", Nathan , now smirking, closed the distance between the two of you. You backed up against the cold metall of the locker with a thud. His green eyes bored steadily into yours, occasionally flicking to your slightly parted lips. You were at a loss for words at his sudden boldness, but you weren't complaining. This was what you were waiting for all along. As your thoughts tumbled around your mind, Nathan leaned in an captured your lips with his. Slowly at first but the kiss grew heated fast.

Your heart rate exhilarated, and both of your breaths grew heavier. You pulled away to get a gasp of air into your lungs. One of Nathan's hands rested next to your head and the other softly at your hips. Your foreheads leaned against eachother as you caught your breaths.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that and way more to you", Nathan breathed out. "Yeah, me neither", you contered, chest still heaving heavily. Without any more words you leaned back in, continuing where you left off. Tounges battling for dominance exploring each others mouths thoroughly. Nathan's narrow hips started to grind against yours, eclicting a soft moan from you, harmonizing with his low grunt. You totally lost yourself in him when the sound of the heavy locker room door destroyed the atmosphere.

"Oh .. my god... That is disgusting", Kelly exclaimed, "what do you think you're doing in 'ere?"

"I was just showing [y/n] there that I am not cute, and was about to give her a demonstration of the beast that is now awake", Nathan said while biting his lip and suggestively winking in your direction. You blushed, the taste of him still lingering in your mouth, leaving you wanting more. To be continued, you hoped.

#robert sheehan character fic #imagines #oneshots #jealousy #misfits #robert sheehan #nathan young

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obxparadise · 4 years

Text

Last Friday Night

JJ Maybank x Reader

Word count: 5,548

~A fic in which JJ helps you recount the memories of your wild Friday night~

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, weed, and implied sex.

A/N: This is my longest fic yet!! It’s a combination of a story and flashbacks. Flashbacks are in italics! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Leave a comment and reblog if you liked it :) I also recommend listening to Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night” while reading :)

*Picture was found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~

There’s a stranger in my bed

There’s a pounding in my head

Glitter all over the room

Pink flamingos in the pool

I smell like a mini bar

DJ’s passed out in the yard

Barbie’s on the barbeque

This a hickey or a bruise?

Sunlight shines through the window curtains, brightening up what was once a dim room. Tired eyes squint against the light as you attempt to roll on your back, groaning as an unimaginable wave of discomfort shoots across your skull. Hands find their way to your head, kneading your temples to try and ease the pain of a growing headache. The heavy weight of your hangover keeps you from moving, although you desperately need a water and aspirin. Maybe something greasy too.

As your eyes flutter open slowly, they readjust to the light in the room. Heavy breaths leave your mouth, tongue darting out to wet your awfully dry lips. The rancid taste of liquor is still on your breath, and you decide the first thing you need before medicine is a toothbrush.

Movement beside you urges you to freeze in bed, heart beating quickly. Turning slowly to the side, your eyes meet with a pair of tired, baby blue eyes and a mop of messy blonde hair, sticking up in every which way. The image of the boy doesn’t register quickly enough in your head as you shriek, heaving him off the side of the bed, cringing when he lands on the hardwood floor with a thud. Whoops.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

Crawling to the other side, your heart stops when you realize who had been your bed mate. “JJ? What the fuck?”

Out of all the boys who could have been lying beside you, JJ Maybank was the very last one on the list of people you would have expected. Luckily for you, JJ was no stranger. Sure, he was more of your sister Sarah’s friend, as Sarah’s boyfriend John B was JJ’s best friend, so you didn’t mind him, but over the last week or so, you’d grown closer to the group, JJ especially. He was chill, funny, unpredictable. Extremely handsome, too.

“What the fuck me?” He asks incredulously, rubbing his now sore elbow. A tiny laugh escapes as you watch his brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck you! Why did you push me?”

“JJ, what the hell were you doing in my bed?”

He stretches, bare, tanned abdomen exposed for your viewing pleasure. Well, you definitely could’ve been stuck with someone a lot worse. No complaints, though.

“Well, I was sleeping peacefully,” he grumbles, grabbing onto the end of the bed to pull himself up. Pink sparkles litter his body, and you watch in amusement as he vigorously attempts to brush them off. Eyes scanning the room, they land on a confetti cannon. And if you had to guess, Sarah replaced the confetti with glitter. Great. “Oh, and by the way, you steal all the blankets in your sleep. I was freezing my balls off trying to wrestle them from you last night.”

Running a hand through your hair, which is somewhat damp and undoubtedly tangled thanks to alcohol, you try to connect the dots as JJ glances at you, lips curved, delight on his face. “What happened last night?”

How much did you have to drink that you couldn’t remember a single detail? To be completely hungover and forgetful the next morning is extremely unlike you, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were truly embarrassed.

“Only the best fucking night ever,” JJ grins, happily slapping your leg, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll tell ya, you and Sarah sure know how to throw a party. Best Friday night I’ve had in weeks.”

And that’s when it hits you. Your parents are out of town, your brother Rafe is away at a three-day golf tournament, and little sister Wheezie had spent the night with a friend.

Jumping out of bed, you run to the window and peel back the curtains. Your mouth drops in horror as you absorb the sight of your nearly destroyed backyard. Flamingo pool floats are crowding the pool, some full of air, and well, some had seen better days. Pong tables and plastic lawn chairs are flipped and broken. Red solo cups litter the patio, many still filled, others crushed and empty. Rubbing your temples, you cannot imagine how it could get any worse, but a dark figure between the bushes has you pressing your face against the screen, squinting to get a clearer look. For the love of God, the DJ is passed out in the grass. Is he dead? Shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

JJ appears beside you, looking over your shoulder. His eyes widen as he takes in the catastrophe that is your backyard. “Whew,” he whistles. “What a night.”

You elbow his ribs before stepping back, sucking in a breath as you realize how much cleaning you’ll have to do. Peeling off your clothes, you quickly change into a fresh pair of sweats and a cropped half tee shirt, making sure to throw on a few layers of deodorant after JJ’s teasing comment.

You catch him staring as you fix yourself in the mirror, smirking at a spot on your abdomen. Glancing back to the mirror, your mouth drops as your fingers brush over a deep red mark. “What is this? Where did this bruise come from?”

You jump at JJ’s cool touch against your warm skin, and he smirks before pulling back. “That’s a hickey, Y/N.”

“A what?” Open palms slap against your forehead in disbelief. “From who?!”

The only thing JJ offers is narrowed eyes and a slight close-lipped smile.

“It was you!” The realization hits you like a freight train. “Oh my god. We fucking slept together didn’t we?”

JJ’s body shakes with laughter as you frantically search your body for more marks, exasperated sighs leaving your lips as you find a few more dotting your neck. Thank God you had just bought a new concealer because you were going to need it. “We spent the entire night together, Y/N. Do you really not remember anything?” He’s pouting, and his voice comes out almost…offended.

“Okay, you know what?” Throwing your hands in the air, you turn back to JJ, whose hands are clasped together in front of him. “I need to remember what happened last night. No more surprises.”

JJ cocks his head to the side. He considers you for a moment before hopping back into bed, patting the place next to him. Hesitantly, you join him in bed, unsure if you’re ready to recount one of the craziest nights of your life. “Where do you want to start?”

Pictures of last night

Ended up online

I’m screwed

Oh well

“Kiara Carrera!”

Squeezing your way through the various partygoers, a relieved sigh leaves your chest as you spot the feisty brunette sitting by the pool, legs dangling in the water as she listens to Pope ramble on about the season finale of The Walking Dead while simultaneously spinning in a pool float.

“What’s up?�� Kie says, grinning as you bend down to hug her around the neck.

“Any chance I could borrow your Polaroid?” Right away, you see the hesitation in her brown eyes. She’s not stupid. Giving a drunk girl a camera probably wouldn’t be the best idea, but you’ve been known to be quite persuasive. “Aw, please Kie? I’ll take really good care of it, I promise.”

Sarah may have had problems with Kiara in the past, but there was never any bad blood between the two of you. Frankly, you’d been pissed when Sarah pushed Kie away. Her insecurities ruined a great friendship. Kiara had always been a good friend to your sister. It was nice to see them finally getting along again, now that Sarah and John B were officially together. I guess they really didn’t have a choice, but you knew them. Time would pass, and they would be thick as thieves again.

Kiara reaches into her bag and pulls out a light blue Polaroid camera, holding it out for you. Squealing, you eagerly take the camera, excited to document a night of memories. “Be careful with that thing. It’s brand new.”

Kiara rolls her eyes as you cradle the camera to your chest, rocking it like a child. The alcohol is finally settling in your system, so you squeeze the camera tight to your chest, saluting her before holding the camera to your eyes. “Pope, come in closer.”

He rests his arms on Kiara’s thighs, and they both flash a smile your way. Collecting the picture, you wait for it to appear on the printed film, smiling at the two happy faces. Hm. They’d make a pretty cute couple.

“Alright, I’ll be back!”

Kie and Pope send you off with a final wave as you begin snapping photos of people dancing, people drinking, people swimming. Sometimes memories fade, but with pictures, you could relive them, bring yourself back to that very moment.

Teenager years are the most important. It’s a time filled with adventure, embarrassment, growth, love, friendships. After high school, everyone goes their separate ways. It’s a part of life. Not everyone stays together. But the pictures would remind you of simpler times. Times when you were happy and carefree without a worry in the world. Times where you were surrounded by old friends. Times that would only be relived through photos.

The pictures are spread in front of you on the kitchen counter. Chin resting in your palm, you smile down at the photos, fingers delicately tracing the outline of the film as your body drunkenly sways to whatever song the DJ is playing in the yard. In one picture, Kiara is throwing up the peace sign while Sarah leans her elbow on Kie’s shoulder. Another shows Pope and John B, both curled in a cannon ball as they launch themselves into the pool. JJ and John B throw up the middle fingers in a third picture, and Sarah and Pope laugh at a drenched Kiara, who had alcohol spilled on her moments prior.

“Well these are pretty cool,” a voice slurs beside you. A ringed hand reaches out to touch the pictures, and you recognize the rough, bruised knuckles right away. “But there’s something missing.”

Hand on your waist, you stare up at JJ, brows raised. He leans his hip against the counter, hazy eyes trained on you as he lifts a beer to his lips, tongue slightly darting out to collect the excess. You don’t even want to know how much he’s already had to drink. “And what’s that?”

“You’re not in any of them,” He notes, motioning to the pictures. You follow his fingers as they point to each photo, and sure enough, you’re nowhere in sight.

“Huh. I guess I was so busy taking pictures of everyone else I forgot to include myself. Well then,” Grabbing the Polaroid from the counter, you hold it out in front of you. JJ watches you curiously until you nod your head toward the camera. “What are you waiting for? Get in the picture.”

He leans in close to you, his cheek centimeters from yours, hand resting gently on your hip. You smile brightly while JJ opts for a half smirk, his trademark.

“Do something silly,” You tell him, plucking the first photo from the camera. “Make me laugh.”

You joke with JJ the most out of all of Sarah’s friends. JJ’s sense of humor is unmatched, even when he’s not trying. He thinks for a moment, only briefly, before you feel his tongue flat against your cheek. It startles you but you laugh, a real, genuine laugh, just as your finger presses the shutter button.

The picture is perfect as you lie it alongside the others, gazing down at what would soon become mere memories. Head tilting to the side, you examine the photos as does JJ, and he speaks up, “We should date them.”

It’s as if he read your mind. Rummaging through the cabinets in your kitchen, you locate a black sharpie, pulling the cap off with your mouth before scribbling the date in the bottom left corner of each photo.

You smile triumphantly until JJ plucks the marker from your fingers, scrawling more words on the pictures of you and him. Grabbing the photo of JJ licking your cheek, which oddly enough was super attractive, you roll your eyes as you read the hashtag. “TGIF? Really, JJ? How old are you?”

“Thank god it’s Friday,” his smile is lazy and all you can do is shake your head and return the grin. “Come on,” JJ offers you his hand and you take it as he leads you through a swarm of people before you eventually find yourselves back in your yard. “Let’s get someone to take a group picture.”

You nod in agreement, clutching the camera to your chest, scanning the yard for the remainder of your friends. You spot them on the other side of the pool, Sarah and Kiara cheering loudly for John B and Pope, who are engaged in an intense game of one-on-one flip cup.

“Hold up, J, let me get a picture of this.” Glancing through the viewfinder, you shake your head as you find yourself to be too far away. Keeping the camera to your eye, you pace forward a few steps, oblivious to the circular pool float just inches from your feet.

“Y/N, watch out!” But Kie’s voice falls on deaf ears as you trip over the float, toppling into the water with her pristine Polaroid.

Resurfacing with a deep gasp, you rub the water from your eyes, blushing a deep red as laughter bubbles around you, but the only one with a sour expression on her face who is indeed not laughing, is Kiara.

Chuckling nervously, you hold up the drenched camera before shrugging. “Oops?”

“Oops?” You stare at JJ in astonishment, almost as if you don’t believe a word he’s saying. “I said oops?!”

You groan as JJ nods, burying your face in your palms. Kiara’s brand new, one-hundred-dollar camera and you just had to fall into the pool.

“God, how mad was she?”

JJ shrugs. “Eh, she was pissed for about ten minutes. But hey, she got her payback, though.” He wiggles his brows and you shrink back into the bed. “Do I even want to know how?”

“You didn’t see the Instagram pictures? Kie took them on her phone since you know, you killed her camera.” Heart hammering in your chest, you snatch JJ’s phone from his hand, mouth falling open as you scroll through and find Kiara’s Instagram, her latest post an assortment of pictures from the night before.

“Oh. My. God.”

Each picture of yourself made you squirm more than the previous as you scroll through, cringing in embarrassment. There were pictures of you with your tongue out, looking drunk and ridiculous. Pictures of you and JJ dancing on tables, flailing your arms dramatically, also made the post. Pictures of you puking in the grass and slumped over the toilet made the cut as well. And when you read the caption of the pictures, the bile rose to your throat.

“Thanks for ruining my Polaroid. #Revenge.”

Scrolling through the comments wasn’t the brightest idea either, as your eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets at the first two comments.

@rafecam19: So, this is what my sister does when no one’s home.

@wheeziebee: Wait, Sarah and Y/N had a party without me? Well, I know where these pictures are going. #momanddadsnewfavoritechild

“I am so screwed,” Your head hangs in shame, already picturing in your brain the tongue lashing from your parents when they find out. Grabbing JJ’s phone once more, you scroll to the picture of you two on top of the dining room table. Your back is pressed against his chest while his crotch is dangerously close to your ass, palm gripping your hip. Cheeks heating, you turn the phone around, holding it out for JJ to see. “Okay, what the hell are we doing here?”

Last Friday Night

Yeah we danced on tabletops

And we took too many shots

Think we kissed but I forgot

“Y/N, you’re going to fall! Get down!” Sarah yells over the music, a beer in one hand while her other hand is firmly planted on her hip. Sarah, Pope, and JJ watch from below as you expertly climb onto the dining room table, careful not to spill the two shots in your hand.

Flashing your paranoid sister a smile, your body begins to sway to the music. Cheers are aimed your way, egging you on even more. “Oh, lighten up, Sar. Come up here and join me.”

“You’re insane,” Pope says, flashing Sarah a nervous look. “And very drunk, might I add.”

“Not drunk enough,” You answer, throwing back one of the shots. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, you’re filled with a rush of energy.

“JJ, do something,” Sarah urges, shaking his shoulder to pull his attention from your body. You’d changed out of your wet clothes after the pool incident, and your body was now clad in tight jean shorts and a black off the shoulder shirt. The more he stared, the more he didn’t want to tear his eyes away. “Talk some sense into her.”

He watches you with a playful smirk before peering back at your sister. “I have a better idea.” Much to Sarah’s dismay, JJ gathers three more shots in his hands before heaving himself up onto the table, placing one of the shots in your hand. “For you, beautiful.” JJ winks and you gladly accept the shot, toning out your sister’s pleas. The shot glasses clink together before you and JJ down the liquid. JJ finishes the last two before chucking them to Pope, who has difficulty catching them, as he’s not the most coordinated of the bunch. Too much time on the math team does that to a man.

The music changes from rap to throwbacks, and the crowd of teenagers flooding your house erupt into loud cheers as they recognize some of the songs from their childhood. “Last Friday Night” blasts through the DJ’s speakers, and even Sarah, originally annoyed with your shenanigans, eases up and pulls Kiara and Pope away to dance.

You’re left alone with JJ who is trying his damn hardest to dance smoothly and not make a fool of himself. You laugh heartily at his amateur dance moves before moving closer to him, gripping his wrists to steady yourself. You turn yourself in his arms, jumping slightly as his hands grip your hips, lightly squeezing. He’s gentle with you now as your bodies tangle together, his lips calmly brushing your neck, and it’s a different side of him. While most of the time he’s calm, you haven’t been around JJ enough to see him let loose. The alcohol definitely helps.

His lips brush against your ear, sending a slight quiver through your body. “Is this okay?”

The feel of his front side against your backside, his hands on your body, rubbing, squeezing, and his lips dusting against your neck, jaw, ears, it’s exquisite. Blood rushes throughout your body, down your legs, up your arms, through your cheeks, in your head, and the sound of it pumping blocks out the surrounding noise. You’re the only two people in the room. At least, it feels that way.

Before your brain has time to process your body’s actions, you face JJ in his arms, hands on either side of his neck. His lips are parted slightly, breathing even, and his eyes are calculated, focused, scanning your face.

“You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

The air around you is thick, almost restricting your breaths, but JJ remains collected, eyes steady on your face. One hand situates on your hip while the other rests easily on your back. “Fuck no,” he breathes. “I only see you, baby.”

“Thank God.”

You lean in the same time JJ pushes forward, lips finally connecting in a soft but urgent kiss. Does time stop? It feels like it. And there’s no way this is your imagination, either. Weak knees, fluttering heartbeat, small gasps for air, rosy cheeks. All products of a real, sensual kiss.

JJ controls the kiss. He captivates you, and you go along with the feel of his lips, letting him guide you. The light strokes of his fingers on your back are a reassurance. Reassurance that the kiss is genuine. Reassurance that you’re safe with him. Reassurance that he wants this just as much as you do.

The adrenaline pulses within your veins.

His tongue brushes against yours.

Your head spins.

It feels like you’re floating.

You want it to last forever.

A low whistle breaks the kiss and you’re reluctant to pull away. “Shit, bro,” The voice belongs to John B who stands below you, staring with upstretched eyebrows. You’re still perched in JJ’s arms, steadying your breathing, coming down from the high. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Get out of here, man,” JJ bends down, hand slapping the backside of JB’s head. John B flinches, careful not to spill the two solo cups in his hands, before sending a wink your way. “Get a room.”

You blink rapidly, almost as if you can’t believe the story JJ is telling you. He watches your puzzled expression, waving his hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N. You okay?”

“I’m…yeah,” you breathe out quickly, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes scan JJ’s face, eventually falling on his mouth, and your own lips tingle. You can almost feel his lips on yours.

“So that’s how we ended up having sex,” You finally begin to connect the pieces of the puzzle, blushing deeply when JJ howls with laughter. “No, not exactly. Well, I mean, we did fuck, but not until later. Twice, might I add.”

“Twice?!” It comes out as a screech. Dragging a hand through your hair, your eyes dart to the floor, unable to look JJ in the eye. “When was the first time?”

Last Friday Night

We went streaking in the park

Skinny dipping in the dark

“Aw, not this fucking game,” JJ whines, pulling up a chair beside Pope, blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth. The party has settled down a bit, but many drunk teens are still going, laughing, dancing, and chatting up a storm. Off to the side in the lawn, your friends are gathered in chairs, each with a unique smile on their faces. After three hours, they’re all either drunk, high, or both.

You grab a chair for yourself, but JJ’s voice catches you off guard, halting your movements. “Uh uh, princess,” When he rubs his thighs, John B hollers with laughter. “You can sit right here.”

His tone is raspy, almost as if he’s challenging you, waiting to see how you react. The electricity between you is crackling strong, and it pulls you toward him until you’re comfortably settled in his lap.

Kiara clears her throat. “Okay so I don’t know what that is,” her finger points in your direction and your body tenses up from the feeling of numerous sets of eyes on you and JJ, “But don’t let it distract you from the fact that Pope still hasn’t told us when his first kiss was.”

You silently thank Kie for bringing the attention back to the game. Pope whines childishly, taking another sip of beer for courage. “Fine, fine, if I must.” He glances around the circle sheepishly, sighing, “My first kiss was the end of sophomore year.”

“No way.”

“Shut up!

“That late?”

“Pfft. Prude.”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Pope’s hands fly up in defense. “John B, truth or dare.”

“Easy. Dare.”

Pope thinks hard for a moment, and then the lightbulb goes off. “I dare you to go streaking around the yard.”

You stifle your laugh as John B’s face scrunches together. “Aw, come on man! Have some respect, my girlfriend’s here. I don’t want anyone else seeing my balls.”

“Hold ‘em,” JJ pipes up. “They’re small anyway, wouldn’t be covering much.”

John B flips off JJ before quietly cursing Pope to hell. Placing his beer on the ground, JB sheds his clothes, cheeks reddening as he shields himself from wandering eyes.

Your yard is big, spacious, and it takes JB a full two minutes to run around the backyard, weaving in and out of trees and bushes. Some are recording, like JJ and Kiara, while others like you, Pope and Sarah, try (and fail) to contain your laughter.

John B’s cheeks are flushed red as he stumbles back over to your group, and you desperately try to hide your laughter as JJ replays the video.

“Think that was funny, Y/N?” John B asks, pulling his clothes back on. He settles back into his chair and takes a long swig of beer. “No worries. I have one for you. Truth or dare?”

Normally you’d opt for truth, but tonight is different. You’re feeling bold. “Dare.”

He doesn’t even need to think. “You still have that hot tub on the deck, right?”

You nod, curious as to where he’s going with this.

“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the hot tub.”

“That’s it?” You ask, shocked your dare wasn’t anything raunchy. “I mean, that’s a pretty easy dar-“

“With JJ.”

You freeze.

And suddenly, you feel sober, although your BAC levels suggest otherwise.

“Damn you got her good,” Sarah mutters, supplying her boyfriend with a high five. “She won’t do it, though.”

“Oh, no shot,” Kie agrees with a nod.

JJ shifts underneath you, hand brushing your hair from your ears as he leans in to whisper, “What do you say, baby girl?”

That fuels you. Determined, you stand in front of the group, fingers going to the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, and tossing it to the ground.

Left in only your bra and the tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, you direct your eyes to JJ, smirking at the shit eating grin plastered on his face. “You coming?”

You danced with him. No problem.

You drank with him. No problem.

You kissed him. No problem.

Getting naked with him? Problem.

The lights on the deck are dim, hiding the bright color on your cheeks. The jets in the hot tub whirl beside you, taunting you, screaming at you to complete the dare.

Opposite you on the other side of the hot tub, JJ stands coolly, eyes drooping, lazy smile, taking long drags of his blunt. You watch as his lips form an ‘o’, blowing the smoke into the air. He’s calm, and you want that same tranquility.

He smirks as you pluck the blunt from his fingers, taking a long drag yourself. You feel dizzy, lightheaded, and cough out a puff of smoke.

“Easy, princess,” He cocks a brow, studying you. “Nervous?”

It’s amazing how quickly alcohol fucks with your emotions. One minute, you’re having the time of your life, dancing and kissing a boy way out of your league. And then a minute later, you can barely look at him. “Little bit.”

JJ takes another pull. “Tell you what. You turn around and I’ll change first. Then when I’m in the tub, I’ll turn around so you can change.”

You agree and turn your back to him, providing him with privacy although your head is screaming at you to sneak a peek. A splash in the tub has you turning around, swallowing as JJ rests his arms on the outside, blunt hanging from his smile. He’s effortlessly sexy, and you’ll make sure to thank JB later for the dare.

He winks before turning around slightly, awarding you with the same privacy you supplied him. Your shorts go first, then your thong, followed by your bra. Breathing deeply, you cross your arms over your breasts, thankful that JJ couldn’t see.

But unbeknownst to you, JJ had turned back around. “Sweet ass.”

Yelping, you struggle to cover yourself as JJ chuckles, holding up his arms to block the water as you tumble your way into the hot tub, letting the water shield your body. “Shit, JJ. You weren’t supposed to turn around!”

“And you thought I’d listen, why?”

Rolling your eyes, you settle deeper into the steaming water, moaning slightly as the jets massage your back. Across from you, JJ observes you with a smile. “You don’t need to be shy around me, you know. We’re friends, after all.”

“I’m not shy.”

JJ snickers. “Please. You don’t think I notice how your body tenses up whenever I’m close to you? You think I don’t see when your cheeks get that little pink color when I look at you?” His head hangs, tilted to the side, blunt held between his thumb and forefinger., lowering his voice. “You think I don’t know how much you wanted to kiss me tonight?”

There’s no way he can read you that easily, so you play it off. “Alcohol changes a person.”

His grin irritates you. He doesn’t believe you. Why doesn’t he believe you?

Drawing in a breath, you decide to go for it. You swim over to him, watching as his eyes widen, now alert, and climb into his lap, palms flat against his tanned chest. One hand goes to your hip, holding you in place. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not shy,” you repeat, brushing your lips over his. JJ’s chest rises and falls with harsh breaths, and for a second, you believe you misread the signals. He takes a quick pull of the blunt and you cover his mouth with your own, dragging the smoke back into your mouth, titling your head back, releasing it into the air.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

The blunt, now finished, falls from JJ’s fingers as his hand slides around to the back of your neck, pulling you in, kissing you hard. Your mouths mesh together, igniting a fire in your bones. Fingertips dig into his flesh, marking him. JJ’s hand on your waist pushes you further against him, impossibly close to his skin.

The sound of your heart is loud in your ears as you try to focus on moving your lips in sync. JJ’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. His fingers dance over your neck, your throat, and down the center of your breasts.

The tip of his dick rubs against the inside of your thigh, causing your mouth to open slightly. JJ takes advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue in your mouth, exploring, claiming.

You find yourself not wanting to stop. All of the nerves leave your body with each kiss JJ presses to your swollen lips. He’s hungry for more and so are you, but for something different.

He freezes when your hand disappears beneath the water, gripping his length in your palm. His wrist flies to your hand, stopping you, as his other hand runs through his hair, considering. “Listen, princess, as much as I really want to do this, I don’t think--.”

A finger to his mouth cuts him off, a sly smile playing on your lips as you shake his hand from yours. You reposition yourself over him, breasts peeking out from the water, as you slowly sink yourself down onto him.

With every groan that leaves his lips, and with each new swirl of your hips, you feel waves of confidence wash over your body. You’re drunk, he’s high, and you both feel alive.

This Friday night

Do it all again

The ceiling in your room distracts you from JJ’s face, which, if you know anything about him, has a wide grin on it. Heat bubbles in your chest as you replay the story in your head, ignoring JJ’s teasing comments about the color rising in your cheeks.

Sitting up abruptly, you turn to face him. He’s leaned back on your pillows, arms behind his head. “After that, we fucked right here,” JJ pats the bed proudly. “And that, baby girl, was your Friday night.”

Well, it could have gone much worse.

“Sounds like I embarrassed the ever-loving fuck out of myself.”

JJ laughs, holding out his arms. You send him a look before complying, hooking your leg over his waist, resting your head against his bare chest. His one arm lazily wraps around you, the free hand skimming over the skin on your thigh.

“I am never having another party ever again.”

JJ cringes. “Yeah, about that…you might want to check your phone.”

You snatch it from the night stand, crossing an arm over your chest as you read messages from a very large group chat. “JJ…why’s everyone talking about a party?”

But he doesn’t get the chance to answer as you scroll to the very top, phone falling between your legs as you read the message you drunkenly sent before you passed out at three in the morning.

Party at our house this Friday night! Let’s do it again, bitches.

You stare at JJ, palms flat against your head as he falls off the bed in laughter.

Fuck.

251 notes · View notes

kristinee · 4 years

Text

Princess

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Road Head (this is dangerous, please be safe), Unprotected Sex (stay protected or you’ll get infected, Y/N is on birth control yktv), Topper calls you Princess constantly, Praise, I know it’s smut but like, its cute

Word Count: 1.7K

Request: “can you write an imagine with topper where you guys become like the kook prince and princess and you guys go to midsummers and it gets heated😏 and then he takes you home to finish what he started so basically smut with topper loll”

A/N: I know Topper had such bad tendencies but I kinda fell in love with him. He’s such a cutie and I feel he really sacrificed himself in the end because he loved Sarah so much he wanted to truly see her be happy even if it meant being with someone else. Anyway enough with the fluffy Topper stuff. I didn’t edit this or read it over cause I was rushing slightly. This is my first smut so enjoy.

It was your favorite day of the year, Midsummers. A day where you could dress up and be around your people, the kooks that is. It was even better this year though because you finally had a boyfriend to escort you which was always something you had wanted since you were a little girl, seeing these beautiful girls walk around like princesses. It was all you wanted and you hoped this would be your year now that you qualified to be in the running for Kook royalty. This year you were nominated alongside your boyfriend Topper, you had promised him an extra special surprise, win or lose. With those ideas pumping you took a while on deciding which dress suited you best. You decided on a beautiful silk dress that hugged all your curves and even had a leg slit, enough modesty for your family but enough exposure to prepare Top for a night of teasing. With your dress fitted, heels on and makeup done it was time to go so your family drove up and immediately went about their business but you met Topper in the lobby, his suit was color coordinated to match your dress and you couldn’t help but smile at the little things he did to make you happy. “Is that my girl?” he whistled as he saw you walk in. “Give me a little twirl” You laughed at the comment but did it anyways, twirling into his arms.

Everyone had always told you not to get with him, that he had dated Sarah Cameron and you’d never be what she was but he quickly debunked those rumors. You guys were perfect for each other and as soon as he and Sarah split he became such a sensitive, considerate guy and you couldn’t be more thankful that he was no longer the asshole everyone knew him as. Topper Thornton.

By the time you finished in the lobby, it was time to hear Kook Royalty results. You were up against some of your friends and you didn’t want to sound stuck up but you and Top were the best couple there, or well, the least fake. These girls were in it for the money and the idea of being seen with some preppy athletic idiot or the guys being seen with some barbie doll. It was nice knowing you’d never have to worry about being that stupid. You were literally shaken out of your thoughts when you felt Topper’s hand on your shoulders. “Y/N we won. Hello?” You blinked a few times, looking at the huge smile on his face. Even if you had just thought about all the good things you remembered most of all how arrogant he was. You were in for a night of him showing off his Princess which meant he was in for something even more annoying.

The party went off great and it had probably been the best Midsummer’s so far and by this time the dance floor was full of teens while the adults were upstairs in the country club to get away from the noise and you could finally be a little more touchy with Topper without worrying about your dad giving him a death stare. An upbeat song came on and the timing couldn’t have been better as you pulled Top in close behind you, pressing him up to your backside. You felt his hot breath down your neck as he exhaled and placed his hands on your hips. The rhythmic swaying and little bit of alcohol you snuck fueled something fierce inside you and it was only a matter of time before you proposed a genius idea. “Hey babe.” his swaying stopped. “What’s up, are you good?”

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, I was just thinking. What if I told my parents I was sleeping over at Becca’s house and you just take me to yours since I know your parents like to get drunk and stay at that fancy hotel down the way.” You didn’t even need him to speak to get a reaction. His body did it for him as his dick hardened at the thought, he knew what you were after. “You know..” his mouth came closer to your ear. “I think that would be fantastic Princess.” Just the name was already causing a heat between your thighs. “Okay, I’m gonna go let them know. Meet me at your car.” As you walked away you felt his eyes on you. He was ready to take you right there.

After explaining the plan to your drunken parents you headed straight for Top’s car. It was easy to spot in a crowd mostly because of how nice it was, being new and all. If he didn’t care so much about the leather seats and the suede lining you would’ve fucked him there but that made the drive all the more fun. It was only a few minutes in until his hand found it’s way to your thigh and you found yours on his. You couldn’t deny that you were beginning to get needy but it was starting to become overwhelming. He had been focused on his driving the whole time so you were waiting for a good window to open up so you could flirt a little and get him riled up but as soon as the window opened, it was slammed shut with a call from Rafe. “Hey dude what’s up, I’m just on my way home right now.” The frustration was getting to you so you decided you’d show Topper just how frustrated you were. Your hand was still resting on his leg until you decided it was time to move as you slowly began to rub his thigh in circles, moving inside his thigh, just slightly brushing his cock with the edge of your hand. His eyes shot toward you and you innocently smiled continuing the slight motion. “Uh yeah I’m still here, say that one more time.” With the plan in action, you moved up your hand, now rubbing his cock. He was already fully hard as you heard a little groan slip through his lips. “Oh yeah I’m good, my head’s just hurting real bad. Those shots did me in. I’m down the street from my house though.” You weren’t. “So I’ll talk to you tomorrow, see ya” You bent over the gearshift, shifted yourself to get comfortable as you planted a kiss on his cheek while undoing his belt. It was risky to do while he was on the road but there was no traffic this time of night and Topper was one for risk. “Are you okay with this babe?” you sat back on your feet before going down again. His hand caressing your cheek before gathering your hair in his hand and pulling you in for a kiss. You’d take that as a yes. His belt had already been undone so you pulled down his zipper. You pulled down his boxers and his slacks in one go. You took a second to just admire it before spitting on your hand and wrapping it around his cock, pumping it up and down. “Mmm, that feels so good.” You began to swirl the tip with your tongue before he hand bobbed your head up and down. “That’s it baby, we’re almost home.” You moaned just enough to get a reaction out him as he groaned once again, stopping the car in his empty driveway. You slid your mouth off his cock, wiping the spit from the ends of your mouth and pulling up his pants. You got out of the car and headed for the door. You’d never seen someone unlock a door so fast. You both threw down any extra belongings you had by the door and ran upstairs to his room. It was a beautiful place and his room was no exception. He had a massive bed with an ocean view terrace. You guys had definitely fucked there a few times.

The door closed behind both of you as you pushed Topper back on the bed. “Let me take off my dress, I paid too much to get cum stains on it.” You both laughed before you stripped it down along with your heels. He stripped too, all but his boxers “I’m so glad I get to call this mine.” Top sat up, wrapping his hands around your waist and bringing you down on top of him. You straddled his waist as you planted hot kisses on his neck down to his abs. You stopped right above his underwear. “I think I need to finish what I started.” You pulled his boxers down yet again, continuing the process until Top’s grip on your hair pulled you up off of him and up to his face. You could feel his heart beating with the closeness as your lips connected in a passionate kiss. You stopped for a moment of silence, only filled by heavy breathing. “I..fucking...love you.” the phrase that fell from his mouth ignited many things inside you. Your hips pressed together, preparing for the moments to come. “I love you too baby, let me show you just how much.” Your hand moved down your own chest to your heat. Moving to grab his cock as you positioned it below your entrance. You slowly lowered down, adjusting to his size. “Fuck” You’d done this a few times before but it felt new each and every time. Topper set his hands on your hips and began to help you move up and down. The sounds of skin coming together and moans and groans were beginning to fill the room. Your hands exploring each other's bodies.

He soon flipped you over so he was on top. His eyes looking down all over your body “Tell me what you want Y/N.” “Please just fuck me.” His eyes lit up as he positioned himself back inside you moving even harder and faster than before. “You make me feel so good baby” You felt yourself on edge. “I’m so close,” you were breathing harder than before and everything just felt so hot and heavy “Me too, cum with me.” Your breath synced as you both reached your high. He pulled himself and laid there with you, arms wrapped around each other “Love you Princess” “Love you too Top.” The hug tightened and you two stayed there until you fell asleep.

#outerbanks #outer banks #obx #outer banks netflix #outerbanksedit #topper thornton #topper obx #outerbanks smut #outer banks smut #austin north #austinnorthedit #request #ask #my writing

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years

Text

presence

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: song mingi; ATEEZ

reader: fem

word count: 1.5k+

summary: moments like these, although simple, made your life a little bit better. the world had other plans though.

a/n: ahhhhh super late but happy birthday to our dear Minki! I hope he’s enjoyed huhu ;^; also this song is loosely based off on one of the boys by Katy perry and I think I'm in love by Kat Dahlia

Please enjoy!

To say that you and Mingi were like two peas in a pod was a complete understatement.

You two were more than that. You were each other’s partner-in-crime and half of the whole. You had a bond you two had no with no one else. You two didn’t even have to tell anyone how you treasured each other and how you had a special place for him in your heart.

You were friends since diapers for the love of God.

But growing up with Mingi and being his friends at the same time meant growing up with the rest of his friends. They called themselves ATEEZ, teenagers who can do everything from A to Z. They welcomed you into their little band of misfits when they saw how much you meant to their tall baby.

The nine of you were practically unstoppable. You did everything together- from playing at each other’s houses or heading over to the arcade when your parents permitted it.

That being said, hanging out with only the guys kind of made you into the “one of the boys” type of gal. You didn’t really mind though- it was fun for you. Sure Barbies and dolls were cute but something about being to roughhouse or run around with the guys was a fun experience too.

But even then you and the peach-haired boy still kept some activities intimate between you two. Like hiding in your attic after stealing a bunch of your mother’s homemade cookies and munching on them while doodling with Mingi’s special box of crayons. Moments like these, although simple, made your life a little bit better.

The world had other plans though.

Things were fine before adolescence but once puberty hit you two- things took a huge turn.

You still hung out with the guys, but after transferring to an all girls school, you never realized how much you missed out as a young girl. You made new friends there, ones that helped you, guided you through discovering a more feminine side to you.

You started to groom yourself more, grew a bit conscious of how you looked to others and started to shift your clothing style to a more bolder one, one that hugged your developing curves in all the right places. You weren’t fond of make up, you didn’t think that it was necessary, but you never outright refused to be the subject of your friends’ new makeup technique.

Mingi on the other hand grew developed a more mature outlook on life. He was still the big baby he was but he knew when he had to “adult” his way out of things in life. He didn’t wear simple T-shirt’s and cargo shorts with light up squeaky sneakers anymore. He wore stylish clothing, chose a bold style that turned heads wherever he went.

And his voice- oh boy his voice.

You would make fun of how deep it had gotten but there was this small part of you that felt butterflies whenever he talked. You felt light headed whenever he smiled his wide toothy smile and you could feel your face heat up whenever he wraps an arm around you.

Hiding in attic with cookies shifted to laying on the beaten up couch you got for less than a few bucks on your roof, snacking on junk food and talking about the woes of puberty. Sometimes he’d bring his laptop and earphones and worked on making music while you took your worm out sketchpad and various pencils.

During those times you two were doing your own thing, silence would fill the air. And that was okay- sometimes the quiet sufficed. No words were needed to be said, just the feeling of each other’s presence was enough.

But there were times where Mingi would look up from the lit screen of his laptop and glance over to you. Were you always this cute whenever the habit of your tongue sticking out of your lips when you drew would happen? Since when did the way your lashes touched your cheeks make his face flush at the overwhelming beauty you held?

And since when was he so tempted to kiss those luscious lips of yours?

Sometimes you would catch him staring at you. Whenever you would be invited to go hangout with ATEEZ, you could feel a pair of eyes at the back of your head. And once or twice, you would catch your best friend staring at you, prompting him to turn his head and glomp onto Yunho or Hongjoong.

You found it adorable actually.

You found his smile cute, you found the way he was ready to help anyone so admirable and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized for the way his eyes would sparkle whenever he was so passionate about the things he was doing.

These thoughts aided you in your restless sleep one night, it helped you conclude that you were indeed in love with Song Mingi.

You two never spoke about it with each other, especially since you were scared that it could ruin the nineteen years of friendship you had with each other. You two would skirt around the topic every once in a while, or not really try to deny it whenever your friends teased about how you had a massive crush on each other. It was a good enough signal that things were going in The right direction but just needed the right time to reveal it.

“He’s on the way, hide bitches!” Wooyoung screamed as he hurled himself into Mingi’s couch to hide behind it.

You and the rest of the boys all scrambled to find a perfect spot to hide. You could hear Yeosang push Jongho away from his hiding spot beside the cabinet that held up the rather large television, and the way Seonghwa and San muffle their laughter.

You were caught in the middle of the living room, frantic in searching for a spot. The jingling of keys made you panic even more but you settled on standing in the space beside the door so that when it opened, it covered your form.

“Okay what’s all this about?” Mingi calls out to the seemingly empty apartment.

No one moved for a whole minute. Lucky for you, he was too distracted by the huge teddy bear that sat in the middle of the table of his dining room, a box of mint chocolate ice cream cake waiting in front of it.

Heads peeped out from their respective hiding places. You silently counted down from three, using your fingers to go along with it. And once you reach one, everyone jumps out from their hiding spot and shouts a birthday greeting for Mingi, confetti falling overhead from the small confetti cannon Yunho brought along.

The rest of his birthday was a blur. There were games, cake, alcohol (snuck in by the older boys) , loud music and an overall simple party that so happened to just have booze. While the rest of the boys were having a time of their life playing some sort of game similar to Twister, you and Mingi snuck out to the back of his house and onto his roof.

The chilly evening air was cool against your flushed skins from the amount of beer you two drank. Soft giggles floated with the wind as you two tried to settle down comfortably.

“I hope you enjoyed the day, Mingi.” You say after a moment, staring up at him. “Even if it’s too simple.”

His eyes shifted from the way your delicate hands adjusted the lilac skirt over your legs to your sparkling eyes. “____ are you kidding? It’s perfect- I couldn’t ask for a better way to celebrate.”

You chuckle and turn your head to look up at the sky, hair brushing your shoulders. Another gentle breeze passes by, making you shiver and unconsciously shift closer to the male.

He stiffens up for a moment but relaxes when he realizes that this was what he wanted. Well, maybe he wanted your head to lay against his shoulders while he rests his head on top of yours but this will settle for now.

Your fingers brush against each other but neither of you move to pull your hand away. Silence settled over the two of you, only the sound of the music blasting from downstairs and the engine of the occasional car that passes by were heard.

Mingi makes the bold move to finally lace his fingers with yours. Your breath catches in your throat and you look up at him. He was looking down at you with a tender look in his gaze, eyes searching for something. His other hand reached up to cup your cheek hesitantly, fingertips grazing your skin.

You help him by resting your free hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. A gentle smile graces your lips. Your eyes held a soft look in them, one that was practically begging to have him just give in and kiss you.

And finally- he did.

The kiss wasn’t like the ones you’ve read in the few romance novels that you picked up from the bookstore. It wasn’t all butterflies or fireworks. It was like a flood crashing into you, a wall finally being torn down after many years of longing stares and quiet yearning. It felt exactly like that and you couldn’t ask for any moment more perfect than this.

And like before, no words were needed to be said. The presence of each other was enough.

#ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi #idol x reader #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #fluff

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 80

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

Her body is comforting; the warmth and the familiar weight of it laying atop his own. The feel of her skin pressed against his and the light, yet always alluring scent that lingers in her hair. His fingers more through it now. Slowly and gently combing through the silky, dark tresses; still damp with sweat following an intense and attentive session of love making. It had been so easy to lose himself in the moment. The escape. The sensation of hands and mouths moving over each other’s bodies as they took turns both worshipping and devouring one another. The way her touch alternated between gentle and greedy as her fingers and palms explored every inch of his shoulders, chest, and arms; legs securely wrapped around his waist and her heels pressing into the small of his back. It had been slow and tender at moments; long, soft kisses that saw closed mouth moving upon closed mouth, accompanied by whispers of love and praise. Other times it had been more frantic; a desperation behind aggressive, grabbing hands and tongues battling for dominance and much rougher, dirtier talk. Each minute...each SECOND...had been nothing short of perfection. The taste of her kiss and the digging and scraping of her nails against his skin. The noises that escaped from her mouth; the sound of his name, both soft sighs and whimpers, much louder begging and pleading and then her eventual release. His own had been powerful. His entire body locking up and then shuddering; eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers as her heels dug into his ass as he emptied himself inside of her. She’d clung to him afterwards; arms tightly wound around his neck while he buried his face in the side of hers. And when he’d pulled back to look at her, there’d been tears in her eyes. There was no way to dismiss what he saw there; the fear and the worry and the anxiety. The realization that -whether it be through his demise or her own- it may very well be the last time they experience that kind of moment together. He’d done what he could to squash those thoughts; softly kissing her and quietly professing his love and adoration; fingertips moving over every inch of her face as if committing it to memory.

Now he lays on his back with her tightly pressed against him. That warm, supple body spread along his; breasts flattened against his chest, her eyes closed and her lips and the tip of her nose against one side of his jaw as her knuckles repeatedly grazed along the other. The pain hasn’t subsided, but for the time being it isn’t as intense; the three glasses of whisky he’d ended up consuming, the intense orgasm, and the heat radiating from her body all working together to successfully take the edge off his suffering. And he knows he should move; climb out of bed and get dressed and back to business. Despite Rata and Koen being there and heavily armed guards on high alert, she’s still his responsibility; promising nearly seven years ago to always protect her no matter how high the stakes or how extreme the costs. She and the baby growing inside of her are his sole priorities, and he has to keep them safe and get them through the next few days and then back home safe and sound. Even if it means sacrificing himself. Whether physically OR mentally.

“Boy or girl?”

Tyler’s eyes flicker open at the sound of her voice, finding her gazing up at him with her chin resting on his chest. “What?”

Her knuckles continue to brush against his jaw. “Boy or girl? What do you want?”

“I want a healthy baby. And a healthy momma.”

“You say that every time.”

“It’s all that matters to me; that you and the baby are okay.”

“Humour me,” she says, and drags the nail of her index finger down his chin. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“You would do that to me. Stack the house with testosterone. Isn’t it sufficient that you have enough testosterone for the entire male population of New South Wales? Do you really have to add more?”

“You’re going to say a girl, aren’t you. So what? Stack the house with estrogen? Thanks.”

“Better than testosterone.”

“I don’t think so. And why would you do that to ME? Another girl?”

“Look buddy, it’s your sperm that decides this. So you really only have yourself to blame. Besides, would another little girl really be that painful? You’re an amazing girl dad; a total study in contradiction. You’re big and strong and you have all those scars and tattoos and you’re so bad ass. Yet there you are, braiding hair and playing Barbies and attending tea parties and glitter stuck in your beard. And you never complain about any of it.”

“Why would I complain? She’s my little girl. Nothing I won’t do for her. Except wear the tiara.”

“She’ll break you yet. Or Addie will, when she’s old enough. Something tells me your little peanut will be able to convince you to do ANYTHING.”

“Well she is just like her mother and you’ve had me wrapped around your baby fingers since day one, so…”

“Do you remember when we found out that Millie was in fact going to be a girl? I thought you were going to have a coronary. You looked so scared.”

“I was scared. Me? Having a girl?”

“What? Did the sins of past transgressions with women come back to haunt you? Make you realize that there’d be guys like you after your daughter when she’s older?”

“That was part of it. It just scared me. The thought of having a girl. I didn’t know anything about raising a girl.”

“You have asked the ultrasound tech three times if she was sure. You were so spooked. But you got over it quick. The second she made her entrance into the world. The way you held her and she looked at you with those big blue eyes. You were a goner. You had your miracle baby.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, and pushes his hands through her hair, moving it off her shoulders. “She IS a miracle. In a lot of ways. I never thought I’d get that chance again; didn’t think I was worthy of being a dad again. And when you think about how she was made and where? During all that fucking craziness? The fact that something could have happened to you and we never would have known we were having her? She’s definitely a miracle.”

“I remember how cute you were while I was pregnant,” Esme muses. “I mean, you’ve been cute and gentle and so sweet with all of them. But with Millie, you were extra...well, you were EXTRA.”

“I was a total newbie. I didn’t get to experience all of that with Austin. I was pretty much gone the entire time she was pregnant with him. And I was in Kuwait when he was born, so I didn’t even get to see that.”

“You were just so adorable. You were always touching my tummy and you’d always talk to her or read to her. And she’d always kick or squirm when she heard your voice. Not that I blame her; it’s a very nice voice.”

Grinning, he tucks her hair behind her ears and then cradles her face in his hands, kissing her softly.

“And you always had the goofiest grin on your face when people would ask about her. That ‘hey, look what I did’ grin. You were so pleased with yourself. Like it was some great achievement; putting a baby in me.”

“At that time it was. Now all five of them are. Well, six. If we count little bean.”

“And you always made sure they gave us pictures at the ultrasound; you’d put every one of them on the fridge. I don’t think I’ve seen a prouder daddy-to-be. And you’ve been like that with every single one.”

“I am proud. I finally did something worthwhile with my life. I finally have things I can brag about. Didn’t have anything to be proud of until Millie came along.”

“I don’t know about THAT. Surviving half a dozen tours in the Middle East is pretty impressive.”

“It was my job. I did what I was told to do. Or what I had to do to survive. Let’s not romanticize it.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she complains. “You know how you always wish I could look at myself the way you do? Well I wish that you could see yourself the way I see you. The way your kids see you. Because we think you’re pretty amazing and we love you. More than you could possibly know. Life would be miserable without you.”

“Well hopefully you guys won’t have to find out just HOW miserable.”

She frowns. “You said we wouldn’t talk about that. That we wouldn’t talk fatalistically. You promised me that. For one night.”

“You’re right. I did promise that. I’m sorry.”

She presses a kiss to his lips. “You’re forgiven. This is some serious deja vu, huh?”

“What is?”

“This. Us in bed like this. When you’re supposed to be working.”

“Well if it wasn’t for you and your uncanny ability at distracting me while I’m working…”

“I will not be blamed for your hormones. It’s not my fault you’re incessantly horny and insatiable.”

“It’s your fault for lying in bed with your pants half down,” he argues.

“You’re so unprofessional, Tyler,” she teases. “You should really be written up. You should not be getting your rocks off on company time.”

“Technically, it’s our company so we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

“That is a very good point. I think I’m going to love being in charge. Does that I mean I get to boss you around sometimes?”

“Like you don’t already?”

“I do not boss you around!” Esme objects. “You wouldn’t let me do that. Boss you around.”

“I think you’re underestimating the power you have. You’ve been bossing me around for about seven years now.”

“Well you must enjoy it. I notice you stick around.”

“It’s not that I enjoy it, it’s that I really enjoy other things so I tolerate the bossiness.”

“When have I bossed you around? Name a time.”

“Four months ago when you made me paint our bathroom purple.”

“I couldn’t do it myself! I was pregnant. And for the record, it’s not purple. It’s mauve.”

“Mauve is a shade of purple.”

“It’s not purple like Barney the Dinosaur or like an eggplant. It’s a very subdued shade.”

“Yeah, a shade of purple.”

“Okay, so that’s ONE time! One time I’ve bossed you around.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tyler chuckles. “It’s been more than one time. Way more than I like to admit, actually.”

“So the big, bad mercenary is whipped. Your secret is safe with me. You can’t be a hard ass all the time, right? You might as well come home and be my bitch.”

“Excuse you? Your bitch?”

“Listen, if I have to be a snack and meal bitch for five kids, you can suck it up and be my bitch once in a while. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“The things I won’t do for you.”

“You do a lot for me,” she smiles, and pecks his lips. “You always have. You always step up and take care of me; no matter how bad you’re feeling or how much pain you’re in or shitty circumstances are. You ALWAYS step up. For me, for the kids. You’re just always there when you need you, without even having to be asked. I appreciate it. And you.”

Laying a hand on the back of her head, he pulls her into him and presses his lips to her brow. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good man,” she says, as she once more places her head upon his chest. “And I’m very lucky. That I even found you.”

“I don’t know; I think I’m the lucky one. If you hadn’t have taken the job with Nik, if you hadn’t been on the bridge that day…”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I wouldn’t have what I have now. I’d be dead. I wouldn’t have gotten a second chance or the opportunity to fix my shit. And I wouldn’t have this life; you, my kids. And when I think about them or you not existing…”

“But we do. Exist.”

“Yeah, because you took the job. You could have taken one look at me and saw what a mess I was and said ‘fuck it’ and turned it down. But you didn’t. And now look. Look where we are.”

She scowls. “Yeah, back in Dhaka.”

“That’s NOT what I meant. I meant look where we are as in us. As a couple. We’ve come a hell of a long way since the first time we were here.”

“And since that little apartment in Sydney,” she muses.

“Seems like so long ago. Longer than seven years, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve been through a lot since then,” she reasons. “But I like where we’ve ended up.”

“Yeah,” he runs a hand over her hair and down her back, settling it at her tailbone. “So do I.”

Tyler relaxes once more as she settles against him; his knuckles repeatedly skimming up and down her spine, the fingers of his hand softly tracing random patterns on her shoulder and down her arm. It feels so good; being with her, The way her hair tickles his face and chest and how her warm, soft breath wafts against his skin. It’s the quiet, unassuming moments of intimacy that he sometimes enjoys the most. When they connect through something other than sex. There’s a bond between him that he can’t even begin to explain. Something so powerful and seemingly unbreakable that began on that bridge seven years ago.

“What do you think you would have been?” Esme asks, once more breaking the silence. “If you had never one into the military?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“Away from my father.”

“You must have had a dream. Something you wanted to do.”

“Well the unrealistic side of me wanted to be a professional surfer or football player. The realistic side of me always went back and forth between a cop and a firefighter.”

“I could see you being either of those. I mean, you’re big and strong. Athletic. And you have no damn fear.”

“Believe me, I have a lot of those. I just don’t tell you about them.”

“You would have made a really good policeman. In that uniform? All intimidating with your eyes and your take no shit attitude. You could have told me to assume the position and I would have obliged right away.”

He chuckles at that.

“A cop or fireman are both very fitting for you,” Esme concludes. “They’ve both got that edge; high intensity at times. That danger. Definitely good jobs for you. Or a construction worker. I could see you in construction. In a pair of well worn jeans and no shirt and all sweaty and tanned.” She sighs dreamily.

“Is that your fantasy?”

“Baby, you ARE my fantasy. I don’t need to imagine anything other than what I already have.”

“You’re really good for my self esteem, you know that?”

“How a man that looks like you has self esteem issues, I will never know. But you’re perfect the way you are. At least to me.”

“Even with all the scars?”

“They’re part of who you are. Where you’ve been, what you’ve gone through, what you’ve survived. I don’t like the stories behind most of them, but I love YOU. And they’re part of you, so…”

Smiling, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What about you? What would you have done? If you’d stayed in college?”

“I would have probably changed my major. Maybe went into English Lit or something like that.”

“I was NOT expecting that.”

“You thought for sure I was going to say teacher or nurse, didn’t you.”

“Well you did mention teacher once. And you did a damn good job of nursing me back to health seven years ago. And your sponge baths are second to none.”

She giggles. “You only think that because you got special treatment during your sponge baths.”

“You were very good to me. And so were your hands. Sometimes even your mouth.”

“You’re such a pig,” she laughs. “I hope you know that if I had been a nurse, I would NOT have given that kind of treatment to all my patients.”

“Just tall Australian guys with muscles and blue eyes?”

“They would have to have an amazing ass and the stamina of a God, too.”

“And you say I put YOU on a pedestal.”

“You’re worthy of your pedestal. But yeah; I would have gone into English Lit. Or maybe psychology. But I did have one long standing dream when I was young. Sometimes I even still think about it.”

“Yeah? What’s the dream?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“You might think it’s funny.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a bookstore.”

Tyler glances down at her.

“Weird, right?”

“No, it’s not weird. I’m just surprised. It’s the first I’ve heard about it in seven years.”

“I’ve never had a reason to talk about it. It was just a silly dream. Or at least it was until we got back to Australia and I got a look at all the little shops in town. They’re quaint and they’re cute and it’s such a nice, picturesque area. It makes me think of my little bookstore whenever we’re there.”

“Really?”

“Really. I know; it’s silly. Tell me it’s silly.”

“I don’t think it’s silly at all. I think it’s a nice idea.”

“And not just any bookstore, either. Not one of those stuffy, uptight kinds. But where people can come in and relax; cozy chairs and tables to sit at and a place where they can buy baked goods and other treats and get something to drink. With a fireplace and an awesome kids section; bean bag chairs and aquariums with fish and turtles. And a sensory area for kids with special needs. It would be bright and cheerful; lots of windows and natural light. And a little garden out back where people sit and get fresh air if they want.”

“Wow…” he grins. “...you’ve really thought about it.”

“Just a dream. I had it all figured out when I was ten. I mean, I’ve added ideas through the years. I even made a floor plan when I was fourteen.”

“What did you call it?”

“It’s never had a name. I could never come up with one.”

“How come you never did it?”

“A lot of things went to shit after my dad died and my mom got even MORE toxic. Life went in a different direction. And then I met Mark and…” she shrugs. “...well we know how THAT turned out. I brought it up once to him; he thought it was stupid.”

“HE was stupid.”

“Among other things. You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“No. I think it’s pretty cool, actually. And if you wanted to do it, we could make it happen.”

“It was just a dream.”

“Doesn’t HAVE to be just a dream. If it’s something you want to do…”

“Don’t enable me, Tyler. You’re supposed to be the one talking me out of these things.”

“No, I’m supposed to be the one encouraging you to do things.”

“Have you been listening to Barack Obama’s podcast again? Was he giving one of his talks about treating Michelle like the queen she is?”

“I don’t need him to encourage me to treat my wife like a queen. And if something you want to do...the bookstore…”

“I’m too busy raising five little kids right now; in five or six months, there’s going to be a new baby in the house. And we already have a business, remember?”

“You could still have one of your own and help with the other one.”

“Baby, I love you so much for wanting this for me, but we both know now is not a good time. We’re having another baby; that’ll be six kids under seven. I won’t have time to do anything extra. And I’m happy the way things are right now. Maybe when they’re all in school and you’re gone a lot. It would give me something to do and I won’t be so lonely.”

“So ask you again in another few years,” he concludes.

“You’ll forget in a few years.”

“Esme, I don’t forget anything when it comes to you. I still remember what you were wearing when you showed up at the shack, and that was almost seven years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. And I remember every bit of every conversation we had during those five days.”

Her lower lip and chin begin to wobble. “Don’t make me cry, Tyler James. I’ve cried enough today.”

“I remember how I promised I’d never make you cry. I fucked that up pretty good, didn’t I.”

“For what it’s worth, you’ve made me smile and laugh more than you’ve made me cry.”

Smiling, he tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her into a kiss; long and deep, her body sliding along his she reaches up to curl her arms around his neck. “I should get dressed,” he says, and rubs the tip of his nose against hers.

“No. You shouldn’t. In fact, it should be illegal for you to ever wear clothes.”

“Man, your hormones ARE going crazy.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that I find my husband amazingly sexy. That I can’t get enough of him. Maybe you should have been uglier if you didn’t want me objectifying you so much.”

“You wouldn’t have bothered with me if I was uglier.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“I really should get dressed.”

She pouts dramatically.

“I’m sorry. But I am working.”

“We’re in the same room. What is going to happen to me when you’re THIS close by?”

“I should at least have pants on if the shit hits the fan.”

“If you leave them off, you’d defeat them with sheer humiliation. Or maybe seeing you naked would turn them on and they’d be so uncomfortable with it, they’d just leave.”

Smoothing her hair away from her face, he keeps it clasped in his hands and presses a kiss to her lips. “You’re weird.”

“Maybe. But you secretly enjoy my weirdness. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have hung in for seven years. You either like it, or you’re a glutton for punishment.”

“Maybe it’s a bit of both,” he teases.

“You definitely enjoy it. That’s why we have five ids. And one on the way. You enjoy it a little too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much. And as much as I want to stay here like this all night…” he pecks her lips and runs his palms along her arms. “...you need to get off me.”

“Fine.” She gives another pout and then rolls off him and onto her side; elbow on the mattress and the side of her head in her palm. Watching him with a mix of admiration, appreciation, and lust as he slides out of bed and begins gathering up long discarded clothing. “Baby, you are so sexy.”

Tyler grins. “And you call me biased?”

“It’s the truth,” she declares, then laughs when the shirt he tosses her way lands on top of her head. “Walking sex. That’s what you are. Which is another reason we have so many kids. That and you have very determined swimmers. Not even birth control or a vasectomy could stop those suckers! And don’t you dare say it…” she slips the tee over her head. “...or I WILL throat punch you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I could take you. And you know it.”

“Mmm…hmmm…” He clips the holster and gun to his hip, then stands at the side of the bed, hands gentle as they rest on the side of her face; tilting it up towards him. “I love you.”

“I know.” She presses her lips to his heavily calloused palm. “I’ve never once doubted it. And I love you, too. So much.”

He kisses her. So soft and so tender it brings tears to her eyes.

****

The text comes at ten in the morning as they lounge on the couch in the living room; half eaten plates of breakfast resting in their laps. It’s nothing more than numbers on the screen, a simple yet effective message that opens the gateway to the path that leads home. And she hurriedly sets her plate on the coffee table and scrambles to gather a notebook and pen; uncapping the latter with her teeth as she clicks dials the number provided and then places the phone on her thigh and the call on speaker.

“You don’t know how to mind your own business,” a male voice scolds in way of greeting.

“And you don’t know how to play fair,” Esme retorts. “Taking the wife and kid of a man who died seven years ago? Threatening another woman and her children? That’s pretty low; even for bottom dwellers like you.”

“Mouthy. Typical western woman. Nothing that a good backhand wouldn’t fix. Perhaps we should teach your husband a thing or two; about how to control his woman and teach her how to respect men.”

“You can kick a dog to make it stay, but it stays out of fear, not respect. And I’m not speaking to a man right now; I’m speaking to a boy. A cowardly little boy. Because no man would sink to what you have. A man...a REAL man...wouldn’t idolize trash like Amir Asif.”

“You keep that name out of your mouth,” he growls. “You keep it out of your whore mouth.”

“You know what, fuck you buddy,” Tyler snaps. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. You may talk to your girl like that, but don’t EVER talk to mine like that.”

The man on the other end of the line chuckles. “I should have known you’d be listening. Always the protector. How have you been enjoying the games? We made them up. Just for you.”

“How about you meet me in person and I show you a whole new game,” Tyler suggests. “That kind that ends with me putting you in the fucking ground.”

Esme reaches out and lays a comforting hand on the back of his neck, repeatedly squeezing.

“You object? To our games? You object to her being called a whore? Isn’t that what she was? When you first met? Your whore?”

“I will fucking kill you. I will find you and rip you apart with my bare fucking hands. You hear me? I’ll…”

“Enough with the games,” Esme orders into the phone. “They’re not clever, they’re not cute. They’re ridiculous and they’re boring and they scream of desperation. We don’t intimidate easily. If at all. So how about you knock this shit off and we get down to business. The people we’re working for are willing to meet your demands; twenty five million dollars for the woman and the boy. You can keep the mercenary; we don’t want him. He’s damaged goods now. And you can tell him I said that.”

“You don’t want your own man? Your own employee? That’s cold.”

“We know he’s in on it. We know he’s working for Mahajan. That you’re using him as bait. You really don’t think we’re stupid, do you? You’re not dealing with street thugs; we’ve been in this business for a long time. We’ve seen and heard it all. From bigger and better. We were able to get Ovi Mahajan out. And we killed Amir Asif in the end. So your threats and your games mean nothing. They’re not scary. They’re laughable.”

“You won’t be finding it very funny if we get to your children, will you. That won’t be so laughable, will it.”

“I will fucking kill you and everyone you love,” Tyler fumes. “I will hunt every last one of your relatives down and make you watch while I put a bullet in each of their brains. And then I’ll fucking drown you in their blood. And that’s a promise.”

Another chuckle. “You act and talk so tough. But it only took one of us to bring you down last time. And you should have done everyone a favour and died on that bridge. In the end, you needed a woman to come to your rescue. To fight your battles. Now THAT’S pathetic.”

“Do you want the money or not?” Esme inquires. “Twenty five million. For the woman and the kid.”

“You know what we really want. WHO we want.”

“And I made it very clear that that is non negotiable. You won’t get that. You won’t get HIM. That offer got left on the table and died there. Twenty five million dollars. Take it or leave it.”

“And if we agree to take it?”

“I want proof of life, and I want it today. Within the next few hours. And it has to be current; today’s date and time stamp. You try and fuck me on this, and I will send a whole army to take you and your friends down. Because I have that power. I have the power and the money and the resources to do it. Do you really want to test me?”

“You’re not able to do that,” the man scoffs. “Bring us down.”

“Oh, I DO have that power. I can get it all done with one phone call. You really didn’t think we’d be in this alone, did you? That it would just be the two of us? You have no idea the amount of people I have at my disposal. Or the weapons or the tech. I’m in charge here, not you. How do you know I haven’t traced this call and already have snipers with you in their crosshairs? You have no idea what I can do. So fuck you and your games. You want the money or not?”

A heavy sigh. “Thirty.”

“No,” she refuses. “Twenty five. That was your original demand and that’s all you’re getting. Not a single goddamn cent more. I don’t take orders from you. I don’t take orders from ANYONE. And I especially don't take them from gutter rats. Twenty five. Take it or fuck off.”

“You want proof of life?”

“The deal won’t happen if I don’t get it. You’ll get nothing but a death sentence. I want a video. A live one.”

“You want to see them with your own two eyes?”

“That’s EXACTLY what I want.”

“You can have that. Under one condition..”

She snorts. “You don’t give me conditions, kiddo. That’s not how this works.”

“Do you want your friends alive or dead? It’s up to you. Do you want their blood on your hands?”

Tyler leans into her, lips pressed to her ear. “Ask what they want.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll play. Just this once. What’s your condition? Humour me.”

“You can have proof of life, but only in person.”

“Fuck no,” Tyler whispers harshly. “Tell him to go fuck himself. You’re not doing that.”

“Fine,” she ignores him, and her husband glares at her and sighs in exasperation, then springs up from the couch and rakes both hands through his hair before pacing the floor. “Tell me where to go. Give me the address.”

“Do you think WE’RE stupid? That we’d just give you the address and then you’d send your people there? You come here, to where we are, and we take you there. Blindfolded. So you can’t see where we are talking.”

“Tell them no,” Tyler orders. “Tell them no and to shove it up their ass.”

“You know I can’t do that,” she addresses the man on the phone. “That’s a setup. You want me there so you can grab me and hold me hostage because that will bait my husband. You really do underestimate me, don’t you. I don’t go anywhere alone. If I agree, someone goes with me.”

“You bring him. Your husband.”

“Nope. It won’t be him. So you can grab BOTH of us? Or kill him on sight? I won’t play these games. I’ll come, but I’m not bringing him. Someone else, but NOT him.”

“Then he keeps his distance. If any of my people see him even remotely close by, we kill you. No hesitation. Understand?”

“Where do you want me to meet you?”

“Amir Asif’s house. You come here, we take you to see your friends. Simple as that. I give you my word that no harm will come to you.”

“Your word means shit,” Tyler speaks up. “Tell us where they are. Or I will grab all of you one by one and find ways to make you talk. I’ve got all the time and the rage in the world, believe me.”

“We haven’t hurt her or your children yet, have we? But we COULD. I think we’ve shown that; no? With the baby? She really is the cutest little thing. Such an adorable smile. And your other daughter? So pretty. Blond hair and blue eyes. We could keep her for a few years; she’d make a good child bride.”

“You fucking asshole!” Tyler storms across the room and snatches the phone from Esme’s thigh; hands trembling as he takes the cell off speaker and presses it to his ear. “ I will fucking hunt you down...every last one of you...I will fucking torture you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. Then I’ll beat you within an inch of your life, stop, and then torture you all over again. And maybe I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. If you’re lucky.”

“She has six hours; to make up her mind. She hasn’t decided by then, we will kill all three of them. And then we’ll kill your children. One by one.”

“You fucking prick. How about you man up and you meet ME face to face. Or are you that much of a coward?”

“Six hours,” the other man insists, then disconnects the call.

“Motherfucker!” Tyler roars, and tosses the phone onto the couch; slamming into the cushions with enough force that the cell bounces violently and hits the floor. The rage is intense; his entire body drawn tight and trembling, fists tightly clenched and jaw painfully set. And he can hear the rush of blood in his head; feels the throbbing of the surgically repaired vein in his neck.

“Okay...Tyler…” Esme’s on her feet, rushing to him and laying her hands on his chest; palms moving slowly and soothingly over the expanse of hard muscle and the fabric of his shirt. “...you need to calm down...you need to breathe...just breathe…”

“You heard what he said?”

“I heard. I heard every word.”

“That’s my daughter.”

“She’s my daughter too. I heard what he said. And it’s vile and it’s evil and it’s disturbing. But he said it to get to you; to fuck with you. Break your brain, then break your body, right? Don’t let them do it. Don’t let them win.”

“That’s my little girl…” he speaks through ragged gulps of air, tears of both rage and fear streaming down his face. “..if they get to her….”

“It’s just words. That’s all it is. They won’t touch her. In the same way they didn’t touch Addie. They’re doing this to break you. And you can’t let them, okay? You can’t. I need you to calm down. Just to try to breathe, okay?”

“I can’t...I can’t breathe...I can’t…”

“You’re really close to having a panic attack and I won’t be able to get you out of it. Can you at least sit down, please?”

He nods, and she grabs a hold of the front of his shirt and yanks him towards the couch. Waiting until he drops down onto it to lay a hand on the back of his head; encouraging him to place it between his knees. “You need to breathe, Tyler. Just breathe.”

She leaves him momentarily, rushing for the box of meds in the kitchen; hastily dumping them onto the counter before selecting the bottle she wants. Then returns to the living room with several small, white pills cradled in her palm.

“Take them,” she gently orders, then places her hand over his lips. Forcing the pills into his mouth and then grabbing a now lukewarm mug of coffee from the table and using it as a chaser. “It’ll pass,” she confidently assures him. “Just try and relax.”

His eyes are closed as he rests his forehead against her, and she drops a kiss on the top of his head; gently stroking his hair and his ears and the back of his neck. Feeling the way his body slowly begins to relax as the meds act quickly; a strong force combined with the comfort -and security- she effectively provides him with. And when the tension and the rage finally release, he begins to sob. His entire body shaking, arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist.

“It will be over soon,” Esme promises, her voice quivering with emotion. “It’ll all be over soon.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #extraction 2020 #extraction fan fic #chris hemsworth character #best part of me

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tootickie · 4 years

Text

my new calling is watching all 36 barbie movies in chronological order and rating and reviewing them. i will add to this as i keep watching.

nutcracker (2001): 8.5/10 - funny, and i liked that barbie was smart enough to guess that the nutcracker was the prince instead of being surprised. he also made sure she got credit for saving them, in a feminist gesture instead of just taking credit when offered. he also said he would only be the prince if people wanted him to, so the nutcracker is honestly so woke. only thing i didn’t like was the ending, because she definitely shouldve stayed in nutcracker land. also like, was the nutcracker reincarnated as the guy who gets introduced in the end? like i just didn’t get it.

rapunzel (2002): 10/10 - literally the painting scenes in this movie are so beautiful, the rabbit is hilarious, the penelope and her father storyline is genuinely heartwarming, and rapunzel causes world peace. i was also wondering if this is an east and west berlin allegory because people seem to have german names in both cities and a lot of the families being torn apart rhetoric seemed similar but also i’ve been studying the cold war a lot for class so that could just be me. but honestly this deserves 10/10 for the scene where she paints dresses on herself alone. ALSO the sorceress is called gothel and rapunzel loves to paint and is a lost princess, which is interesting bc none of this is in the original fairytale, and thus i have come to the conclusion that disney plagiarized barbie, proving that barbie is the superior movie studio.

swan lake (2003): 10/10 - let me start by saying the scene where they walk across the log by the waterfall is so cool i re-enacted it so much as a kid and also the spunky purple unicorn has my name so this is a very biased 10/10. i also thought it was interesting that even though odette is a good person, her motivation for breaking the spell was a selfish one at first and this added some complexity to her character and gave her an arc of personal growth of compassion winning over fear by the end, which is more relatable and inspiring imo. the dress in this film is so pretty also, and the dancing is so fun to watch! and to round it out, prince daniel said himbo rights when he kept trying to shoot arrows at the evil sorcerer who we established early on can melt arrows.

princess and the pauper (2004): 10/10 - annalise and julian are such a cute romantic pair they’re the first ones that have real chemistry i feel like. also he’s the first love interest with a brain and initiative . preminger is also such a spicy villain, the songs slap, the humor is good...we all remember why this movie is good i don’t need to go over it.

fairytopia (2005): 6/10 - i think the aesthetic of this movie is what really saved it; i thought the character design and settings were really nice, but i found the story to be pretty boring. elina didn’t really speak to me that much as a character, i just feel like there wasn’t as much development of her character as the previous protagonists. definitely some potential there, so i’m excited for the sequels. also i hate how cute i found bibble lol.

magic of pegasus (2005): 9.5/10 - this was mad good actually, my only con was that i did find annika’s voice was more annoying than other barbie characters, so i was just wondering what the deal was with that. annika’s positivity of hearing ‘the wand of light is made of these impossible items’ and going ‘it’s only three things!’ was inspiring, to say the least. the banter between the annika and aidan was so cute too. also literally the fact that he was a gambling addict who ran away from home with a whole redemption arc….iconic. anyway i really enjoyed this actually, i wish i’d actually seen it as a child. also all the ice skating scenes were fun. and uhh brietta and the cloud queen are def in love and you can’t convince me otherwise

mermaidia (2006): 8/10 - definitely better than the first fairytopia! to start with, the subversiveness of needing to rescue a prince is fun! said mermaid prince is cute and watching him interact with his captors is a joy, but why does he have a mullet :-/ i do appreciate elina’s commitment to female solidarity with regard to nori (who, as a side note, is hot), and their burgeoning friendship was a fun part of the plot and omfg the shot with the two of them jumping down the waterfall...nice. nori and nalu are a really cute pair also and i thought it was cool that elina wasn’t the one to get the guy. i also thought it was cool when bibble sang opera. and elina’s last sacrifice at the end redeemed her to me after being kind of bored of her. however, what i really don’t understand is why nalu even asked for elina’s help in the first place?? ( like, because they’re friends? he clearly has other friends, and while we’re on that subject, did their friendship develop offscreen or are we meant to believe they are close friends from the 30 second almost silent montage from the last movie?), so that kind of puts a damper on the whole movie for me.

the barbie diaries (2006): 7/10 - what on EARTH is this animation style. who okayed this??? im literally seasick watching it. this is like a regular teen movie, which is interesting for the barbie genre. the banter between the friend group is really cute and this movie is actually quite funny and profound and i really enjoyed it. but it’s really best if you just close your eyes and imagine what is going on bc whatever you imagine cannot be worse than what you will see on the screen. it feel really off brand for barbie movies plotwise, like it seemed much more like a disney channel movie. so the verdict is, i enjoyed it—the plot is fun, if a little predictable, but there was simply too much to be confused about.

#lila talks

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