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#i may be cringe but i am free xx
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INTRO
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Rwar!!! The name is Ri otherwise known as the one and only Scene Queen Fangz!!!
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ABOUT ME
Pronouns: She/Her or They/them
Proud Scene kid
I play street fighter and main Juri
My hyperfixation changes every week
Massive fucking fangirl
Bisexual
Apprentice of @tampire
I am a minor
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WHATS RI’S CURRENT HYPERFIXATION
Current hyperfixation: Devil May cry
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CRUSHES
Dante (Devil May Cry) 🩸🩸🩸
Jin Kazama (Tekken) ✊✊✊
Remy (Street Fighter) 🖤🖤🖤
Iori Yagami (King Of Fighters) 🔥🔥🔥
Raiden (Metal Gear) 🗡️🗡️🗡️
Poison (Street Fighter) 💋💋💋
Bayonetta (Bayonetta) 🌑🌑🌑
Morrigon (Darkstalkers) 😈😈😈
C-Viper (Street Fighter) ⚡️⚡️⚡️
Mela (Pokemon) 🏎️🏎️🏎️
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Fandoms
Devil May Cry
Sonic the hedgehog
Street Fighter
Kingdom hearts
Scott Pilgrim
Shugo Chara
Tekken
Monster High
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DNI (do not interact)
Over the age of 18 (unless I trust you)
Homo/transphobic
Racist
zionist/pro Israel
Anti sametic
Sexist
Pedo/MAP
looking for a goth/emo/scene girlfriend
Pro cringe culture
Like making fun of emo/scene kids
Alt right
identify as a alpha/sigma male
uncomfortable with Fujoshis
Pro Spardacest
A stright up nazi
Taylor swift Stan (or any insane stan)
anti selfship
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OTHER SOCALS
CFN: SceneQueen-Fangz
Playstation: SceneQueenFangz
MAL: SceneQueen-Fangz
Letterboxd: SceneQueenFangz
Space Hey: XX-SceneQueen-Fangz-XX
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FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
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heres another drop of certified blobbo classics! love you buddy, you are a pillar of honque-sqwad <3
all of these are drawn by a friend from hsd and are our dumb trollsonas! I know it's cringe but i don't care!
they are in order assuming tumblr doesn't mess up:
Duelle (my troll) is a purpleblood bard of heart, and a derse dreamer who's weaponkind is threadedcanekind (like the bloodborn weapon) and whos quirks are mn nm couplings (mnaybe they would say stinmky stuff like this! honmkl), :DD double smiles cause they are two faced, fang puns (self explanatory) and honking when they're nervous, excited, or just sometimes one will sneak out like a snort would while laughing. *homkl*
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~~~~~~~~~~~~
here comes the booooooy <3
hello booooyy<3
here heeeeee is<3
heeee is heeeeere<3
i fucking ADORE blobbo's troll oh my gosh lol
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Gargag (blobulord's troll) another purpleblood member of honk squad, a PAGE of doom and IMO the tumblr sexyman of the group (yes i am forcing this no i don't care) who's quirks are if i remember correctly replacing ys at the start of words with js and replacing gs with at symbols and s gets genderbent into z (ju @et it?) his weaponkind is cleaverkind and duelle found him in the trash where they were immediately bitten and decided to take him home and feed him faygo. they get along well enough and would probably kill to protect their clowne comrades. gargag is kinda a little ratboy weirdo who is a bit of a violent psychopath homeless clown and duelle loves that about him, he would probably be open to changing and being more normal and chill but then duelle wouldn't have anybody to take care of them and gargag would have no chewtoy (they are moirails)
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aratxi (my friend teppy's troll) another important member of honque-squad, a rustblood seer of space who uses her psychic abilities and precognition to just really get under duelle's skin as they are in kismisitude... unfortunately as these owns and sick ass insults are based on future knowledge they don't make a lot of sense to anyone but her and duelle just thinks she's not very good at being mean to them. her weaponkind is spraypaintkind because she is a huge fan of graffiti.
her quirks are replacing s and c with x and x with xx (xomething like thix which is exxciting!)
I like to believe (and so does duelle) that aratxi is the glue holding honk squad together in spite of (or perhaps because of?) being duelle's kismesis they care enough about the group to stick around and make sure they don't get carried away, duelle is kind of a goofy idiot despite the way they carry themselves and pretend to be all cool and serious all the time duelle is a clown and so are the rest of em!
she may be in a romantic relationship with a troll yet to be posted uWu
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
gosh, that took WAAAAY fucking longer than i meant it too, i guess this kinda means a lot more to me than i thought it did haha oops?
anyways thank you for paying any attention to this stuff at all and i hope you all have a great day whenever you see this!
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stay tuned for future content
from myself and my friends
SPICY NSFW content in the coming days!
~.:cringe but free:.~
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benefits1986 · 2 months
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Third Wheel, Free Will
Shattered love stories make my hidden heart and soul bleed wildly.
As an empath with a wicked mind and mouth, I still find it curious when some people come and share their stories that revolve around being cheated on and cheating. And by share, I mean too much TMI that is not only cringe, but, ego-crushing and heart-wrenching, too. There'd be times when I know that even my rare super tight empath hugs will never ease their pains, anguish and self-loathing. Ganun kalala.
While XXs are the usual suspects and prospects of being "kabit," I guess hearing XYs bare their souls about this matter is really a different ballgame. 'Di pa rin ako sanay kasi nga, it's a cheater man's world, after all naman talaga e. LOL. Must be because some XY who are part of my smaller inner circle have had serious cases in this department, too. That said, let me try sharing some answers to questions that have been asked to me by so-called victims of love: XX and XY edition. Let me disclose din na I am not part of any third party kahit kailan, kahit saan at kahit sino. It makes me cringe kasi talaga as in. It's not part of my ecosystem mula noon hanggang mamatay ako. Also, simple lang naman ang view ko sa love: 'Pag akin, akin lang pero 'wag clingy. Saktong cling wrap lang. Markahan lang namin isa't isa. Period. 'Yung alam ko at alam niya na kahit we're not home, we're each other's home. As an old soul ako kahit walang bakas ng ganun. LOL. Okay.
Masaya ako 'pag kasama siya. Ngayon ko lang 'to naramdaman pero alam ko namang mali. Mali bang maging masaya? Hindi mali maging masaya. Emotion 'yan pero ang tanong: what comes after 'yung masayang pagsasama n'yo? Paranoia? Mocking yourself? Rationalizing shit? Masaya ka sa idea na limited time kasi, limited offer. Scarcity is sexy pero 'di naman sa ganitong takada, pakiusap.
Alam kong mali pero bakit 'di niya ako pinipili? Still falls under the human nature na 'pag hindi mapasayo, may certain level ng excitement, ng challenge, ng thrill. Nasabi ko na 'to several times irl: 'Di ka talaga pipiliin kahit kailan kasi ang asawa pa rin ang only one sa mata ng Diyos at sa mata ng batas. Gusto mo kasi na piliin ka para magkaroon ka ng self-worth. Sadly, walang ganun. Gumising ka.
Karma ba 'to? I don't think this would fall under karma because all is fair and unfair in love and hate naman. Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. People are both good and bad, parang Wicked lang 'yan. Lahat may Elphaba and Glinda. Are people born wicked? No. People are made of good and bad choices. Sarte pasok.
Bakit 'di ako puwedeng sumaya? Happiness is an emotion. Sadness is an emotion. Love is an action. Love is a choice. Doon ka sa pipiliin mo lagi't lagi AT pipiliin ka lagi't lagi. Be with someone who you outgive and i-outgive ka rin. Period. Doon ka sa bubuo ng 100% partners in crime araw-araw. Doon sa 100% na sa'yo at 100% ka ring kanya. Baseline 'yan. Non-negotiable 'yan.
Kaya ko pa bang makahanap ng ganitong vibe? Iba talaga e. It's a solid yes. Ano bang meron sa kabitan kagulo na vibe? Exciting, hindi boring. Challenging kasi ng limited time, limited offer. May chances of getting caught so that means may inclination ka sa something kinda feisty, baseline. Or gusto mo ng thrill. So hanapin mo 'yan. Chase is an XY thing so, gawaan mo ng paraan na ikaw ang hahabol kesa ikaw 'yung hinahabol. For XX naman, reco ko eto irl is gusto mo kasi 'yung "full attention" nasa iyo, so hanap ka naman ng XY na 'di nagpho-phone 'pag kausap ka. NOTE na super important: 'Pag magkasama kayo, nakabackside up ang phone and naka-silent lalo 'pag naguusap kayo ng mga importanteng stuff. Also, 'pag naman nagsagot ng call at work or family matters, 'wag kang mag-maarte kasi 'di naman ikaw lang ang mundo niya.
Naniniwala kasi akong vibe is just a matter of being mutually weird together and apart. 'Di ko sure kung idealistic ba ako o baka dahil ito sa very graphic-fantastic first meet-cute ko nung Prep. Hahahahaha. Parang nadala ko na siya sa flow ko be it an XX or XY get-to-know stage. 'Di 'yan about sa dami ng commonalities or differences niyo. Bonus points na lang kung pareho or similar kayo ng gusto at 'di gusto. Nasa paguusap 'yan na naguugat sa willingness ninyong maging vulnerable. LUH.
Bakit parang gusto ko siyang iligtas sa shit niya? Never been married, never been kissed. CHOZ sa kissed. Hahahahaha. Pero, based on the TMI married couples stories ay married life is not a joke. Rewarding siya rarely kasi nga people marry for fucked up reasons like convenience, not wanting to grow old alone kahit lonely sila sa kasama nila, fame, fortune, having kids because pressured ng social constructs atbp. Ayoko na i-exhaust ang list kasi we don't have time for that.
So, ang sinasabi ko: There's always two people who have faults sa bawat broken marriage vows. Nood ka ng The World of the Married and Marriage Story sa Netflix o sa kung saan mang platform mo gusto para free. I watched both with dad kasi nga bonding namin manood ng Netflix 'pag may time. Sabi ng tatay ko: Iba na talaga generation ngayon. Grabe ang sakitan. Ano 'yan? Nakakasakit ng dibdib, anak. Hahahahahaha.
Bottomline: Iligtas mo muna sarili mo because this shit of yours is a sunken ship. Period. Kung gusto mo talagang iligtas 'yung isa, tigilan mo na siya kasi 'di mo siya "mahal" kung everytime magkasama kayo e, a demerit sa legal husband or wife niya. Hintayin mo na lang mag-divorce or mag-annulment sila. Tapos. 'Di ba, willing to wait ka naman? Patunayan mo ngayon na ngayon na 'yan.
'Di ba ako worthy mahalin? Bakit 'di ako 'yung pinipili at the end of the day or night? Simple lang sagot. Lagot. 'Wag ka mag-expect na mamahalin ka ng kahit sino maliban sa magulang mo at aso mo kung mismong ikaw e hindi mo mahal sarili mo. Iba naman 'yung self-loathing sa allowing yourself in external situations na literal and figurative na sumasawata sa pagkatao mo.
Hindi ka rin pipiliin kasi nakapili na siya. Sorry. Sorry not sorry din.
I've witnessed this super up close. Maayos na XY, established as in. Matayog ang lipad. Pero, nagkaroon ng anak sa iba. Nung natrouble ng malala, umuwi sa pamilya. Bumalik sa asawa at mga anak. 'Yung kabila, never na nakita 'yung "ama" ng kabilang bahay nila up until the day he died. Hindi rin inamin nung XY ever na may iba at may anak siya sa labas hanggang sa hukay. JUSQ. Ang saklap kasi witness ako mismo ng BTS and "in front of the scenes" netong paganaps na 'to. I wept so badly and until now, I'm bearing the pain of this story. 'Di ko tatay 'yan a. Para clear and super clear. :D Kung tatay ko 'yan, 'di ganyan turn of events kasi... hahahahahahaha.
Kaya ko ba 'tong lusutan? Parang wala ng way out. Kahit naman deadend ang kabitan kagulo, isang good choice to turn around and walk away lang 'yan each and every time. 'Di naman 'yan agad-agad. Minsan pa nga, narealize mo na lang nung nagkaroon ka na ng anak na bunga ng maling pag-ibig. LOL. Pipiliin mo lang talaga 'yung sarili mo at gagawaan mo ng paraan na mawala na 'yung pagpili mo sa isang bagay na ikaw din naman ang gumusto at nag-try lumusot. Kaya nga may wedding ring, may marriage bans, and all, e para maiwasan ang ganitong shit. 'Pag may wedding ring, ekis na agad. Kung 'di naman suot, aba, magtaka ka na.
Ayun lang naman for today kasi sumasakit na naman puso ko sa mga ganitong usapan. 'Di ako product ng shitty kabitan kagulo pero dad ko way back nung college siya is dalawa girlfriend. 'Yung isa nanay ko. 'Yung isa, highschool shitheart niya. HAHAHAHAHAHA. I've seen how my super duper confident mother dragon went down in shambles at the slightest pakaliwa ng dad ko. Hahahahahaha. Sabi ni dad, pumipili pa raw siya noon. Hayup siya. Pero, kaya niya pinili si mom kasi sa kanya siya naging mas mabuti at buong tao 'di umano. LELS. So, siguro, eto rin 'yung part sa akin na sobrang cringe ako 'pag may mga paganaps na pagpapaselos or may ibang gusto ang mga nakaka-interact ko sa sphere ng love life. Matic alis ka na dito sa harap ko real quick. Naging 99.9% faithful naman tatay ko sa kanilang marriage vows lalo nung nagkasakit mom ko ng malala. Karma. CHOZ. Hahahaha. Joke lang 'yun a. Kidding aside, ayoko lang kasi nakikita mom ko na sobrang hyper vigilant sa dad ko. Isang maling kaliwa o kanan lang 'pag dating sa "girls" tepok talaga dad ko. Sabi nga niya: Takot talaga ako sa nanay mo, 'nak. Me: Awaw. Talaga ba dad? Parang hindi naman kasi 'di pa kayo kasal, pusakal ka na. Sabi naman ni dad: Nak, 'di naman masamang pumili e. Kung baga, tinitignan kung sino ba talaga sa dalawa ang pinaka okay maging nanay ng mga anak ko. Me: Tacca. 'Di lang dalawa kwento ni mommy.
Natawid ko na rin naman itong shit chapter ng parentals ko, so, all goods. Good deals na tayo. And andun na rin ako sa point na gusto ko balikan ni dad 'yung balo niyang highschool shitheart para malaman niya talaga kung tama decision niya mula noon hanggang ngayon. Actually, noon vindictive ako e. Pero ngayon, kung saan siya masaya since officially single naman siya, go lang. Excited din akong malaman ang sagot sa tanong na 'to. Pero sabi ng dad ko: Sabi ng nanay mo, kahit sino basta 'wag lang si... LOL. Aba. Defying death ba si dad or death-defying? Abangan! Buti na lang 'di chixxx 'yung HS shitheart niya. LOL. Mom ko kasi 24-36-24 nung college siya e, so 'yung pa lang, alam na this. Sanaol may ganung vital stats. LELS. Hahahaha. Hiyang-hiya ako e. Parang mga Grade 3 ko yata vital stats 'yan tapos no turning back na from there.
Anway, tapusin ko na 'tong shitpost na 'to because... marami pang labada at try kong matulog ng hindi lampas 1 AM. :) Bukas ulit!
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rosykims · 3 years
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good morning. at this point i literally know so much useless bullshit lore abt gracie lol like ive completely run out of meaningful/substantial content for her nd now im just like uhhhhh *spins roulette wheel* shellfish allergy. childhood speech delay. outie belly button ❤
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fanfic-for-readers · 3 years
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Wait... Rogers?! ~ Part 10 (Bucky Barnes)
Main Masterlist
Wait…Rogers?! M.List
(IFR Masterlist - My other blog (for social media au’s) you might enjoy)
If you want to be tagged in any of my work let me know :) xx
This is a Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader/Female!Reader. May contain spoilers for the MCU. Thank you for reading… I hope you enjoy! :)
This is a shorter part ~ Part 11 will be slightly longer I believe!
Previous Part // Next Part
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I wake up in, what looks to be, an old Hydra base.
“Hello.” A familiar voice calls, I look around to find the man from earlier sitting in front of me.
“Who are you?” my voice is weak, I cringe while the man chuckles,
“To tell you the whole truth – I am Helmet Zemo, my home was once a place called Sokovia. The Avengers destroyed it…” my eyes went wide; I remember seeing the aftermath of that fight on the tv by the news stand - all those deaths…
“I’m sorry for what happened there, I understand why you would be angry.” The sokovian looked surprised for a moment before quickly covering it up,
“Thank you, but your sympathy is not needed, Miss Rogers. I know that you were never a part of that fight and that if you were you would do everything to help those in need afterwards unlike the so called ‘heroes’ who never seemed to care for those who lost their homes, their family, their lives. You are simply a means to an end right now. I will not harm you, but I cannot say the same about your brother or James.”
“Sir, please, I cannot let you do that!” the man just chuckles at me before standing up – that was when I saw pools of blood on the floor behind him. Five bodies lay lifeless on the ground…
“What have you done to them?” I scream, but before my capture could answer a loud bang distracted us.
Steve and Bucky stood there, anger evident on their faces which wasn’t a sight I particularly enjoyed, they both rushed forwards only to falter when they spot that I am the hostage,
“y/n?” Bucky’s voice was harsh as his eyes darkened at the sight of me,
“I’m okay he didn’t hurt me. Well, I mean he did knock me out and now I have a headache but other then that I am okay.” The three men looked at me exasperated, I smile sheepishly,
“Why did you do it? Why hurt us?” Steve’s question was directed at Zemo,
“You people destroyed my home. You killed my family. You ‘heroes’ are murders. I was avenging them, my people. I’m not sure you understand what that means Mr Rogers.” At the end of his reply Tony wanders into the base.
“What a great story… can’t say I believe in your motives, but I haven’t had that happen to me.” I roll my eyes at the mans arrogance before wiggling my hands against my restraints as quietly as I could.
“You won’t be saying that when I show you this.” Zemo pressed play on a video, we watch a car driving down a barren road before being attacked by a figure.
“Why are you showing me this?” Tony questions, I look at Zemo for an answer,
“James here is the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier is the man who killed those people to steal the very serum that created those five dead soldiers behind you… those people being your parents, Mr Stark. Oh, and your friend over there,” pointing at Steve, “knew.” Tony looked at Steve with such a ferocity that I had frozen. Thoughts running around my head – “bucky killed Howard”, “he killed Tony’s parents”, “but he didn’t know”, “it was never him.”, “he had no choice!” – Tony’s voice knocked me out of my thoughts,
“Did you know?” he was looking at Steve.
“I didn’t know it was him.”
“Bullshit!” Steve sighed at Tony’s outburst,
“I’m sorry.” Zemo claps…
“How does that make you feel, Stark?” he taunts,
“Like I know where you’re coming from.” And then a fight broke out.
 Eventually Tony ended up on his back as Steve stands above him – shield held up high – Bucky’s arm was off. That’s when I managed to get my hands free.
“Steve, no!” I run towards my brother, not thinking about the consequences. I threw myself at the man knocking him off balance. We hit the floor with an ‘oof’ as my head knocks against the ground, and everything went black.
-
 I woke up again, in a clean room this time.
“Ah, you’re awake.” A young girl spoke to me,
“Uh, yeah, hi.” I wave slightly, the girl laughed,
“My names Shuri, do you remember anything?” I nod, which was a mistake as a sharp pain shot through my head,
“I remember them fighting and me pushing Steve off of Tony.” She nodded,
“You knocked yourself out after throwing yourself at your brother.” I sigh before my hands shot up to touch my stomach,
“Your baby is fine.” I let out another sigh, this time in relief.
“You should know that your partner has voluntarily gone into cytogenesis for a while, this is so we can make sure everything is needed for his treatment. In the meanwhile, you will be housed and looked after here.” I nod struggling to process the information given to me, she continued, “You’ll be safe here, don’t worry.”
~~~~~~~
Previous Part // Next Part
Tags (If you wish to be removed please tell me (: xx)
@opheliaaaaa // @bethanystan // @intothesoul // @geek-and-proud // @ginger-swag-rapunzel // @clockworkballerina // @mylostsoul28 // @no-shame-blvd-41482 // @tyzerman91 // @sltwins //
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ddaenggtan · 5 years
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chasing butterflies | jjk
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you never meant to be a jock in school. the volleyball team had just needed people and you were there and then you had a knack for it. you just happened to be good at it and went with it. similar to how you saw jeon jungkook in your friend’s orientation group and thought he was absolutely radiant and just went with it. for two years. you’ve spent the entire time pining from afar, mostly because you always seem to make a fool of yourself when he’s around, but also because jungkook is part of that exclusive crowd, the ones that you never can seem to penetrate: the weebs. that is, until your friends get sick of your hopeless pining and decide to do something about it.
pairing | jeon jungkook x reader
genre/warnings | fluff, college au, coffee shop au, pining, somewhat idiots to lovers, jock!reader, nerd/weeb/otaku!kook, swimmer!kook, jock!jimin, kook smiles a lot, reader is a dumbass, jungkook is a dumbass, everyone’s a dumbass tbh, love confessions, profanity, like a lot of profanity, smut: oral (f receiving), face riding, grinding, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap ur willy before things get silly kids!), creampie, soft!kook except when horny, this is somewhat crack-y, there’s also a very fair amount of secondhand embarrassment in this just fair warning i cringed a lot while writing it
word count | 12.8k | cross posted to ao3
a/n | i busted literally all of this in one day because i couldn’t sleep and had the idea for a coffeeshop au with pining nerd/jock, but i didn’t want to do the trope of pining nerd and i also kept seeing @strawbxxymilk‘s tags saying she was going to fight jungkook, so you can partially blame her for his (love u reni xx) i’m honestly REALLY in love with this fic, it was so much fun to write and even edit, like i honestly have never been happier with how a fic turned out.
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If asked, you don’t think you’d be able to point to one exact moment that led to this. You aren’t sure why anything about your college life has been the way it is. You went through almost all middle school and part of high school intending on coasting through under the radar. You didn’t have many friends and you didn’t mind that, citing quality over quantity, and you definitely expected that to continue into your extended school career.
Somehow, though, you ended up on the volleyball team - the captain had seen you playing in a gym class and recruited you. She was adamant that with practice and training, you’d be great, and also they needed at least one more person if they were going to have any chance at competing that year. So you agreed, started practicing, got good, and…kept doing it. You were a talented player, and you made several close friends through the game, ones that had lasted you until even now.
You only got better and better, too, earning you more than one offer from various universities. It was exciting when you finally chose one, and even more exciting that your friend group almost tripled overnight. University teams were large, you discovered, and while that meant more competition, it also meant more friends. More friends that had more connections to people on other teams, in other sports, who were also fun and extroverted and threw really good parties. 
You like to think you’re still that little nobody from middle school. You enjoy your readings and your coursework, and a lot of nights you choose to stay behind in your shared apartment instead of going out. As much as you like to think that, though, you can’t help but face the truth every time you look in the mirror after practice or a game or a workout.
You’re a jock.
You don’t even know why. The labels were supposed to end when high school did, and yet here you were. You pretty much only hang out with other sporty people, since no one has much time to make friends with anyone they didn’t see five times a week and every other weekend. You have a strict workout regimen that you run through with other girls from the team. Your class schedule is built around your volleyball schedule. You call yourself an athlete. You get looks sometimes, from the smart kids who think they’re better because you’re ‘only’ an athlete and they’re not. It reminds you of the people who look down on other sports because theirs is the only ‘true’ sport. Those people used to piss you off, but you’ve grown used to them now; there would always be people who thought they were better because of some imagined divide.
Realistically, there is no divide. People are free to associate with whoever they want, fuck the social norms that become ingrained in high school to contrast class differences. Okay, your Societal Influences class may have skewed your thinking a bit, but your point stands. You had no good reason to conform to the antiquated ideas of high schoolers.
So why, why, are you still standing by a waffle maker and staring helplessly at him?
Jisoo nudges you and you move to let her at the waffle, not looking away from him. She follows your line of sight and laughs when she sees him. “Seriously?” She asks, shaking her head.
“Shut up,” You groan, popping part of a roll into your mouth.
“It’s been almost three years,” She teases. “How have you not worked up the nerve to talk to him?”
“Two years, three months,” You correct as you follow her to where the chocolate syrup and fruit await for her waffle monstrosity. You can’t even look at it anymore, sickened by the mere sight of all the sugar stacked atop it.
“That is not helping your case the way you think it is.”
“I can’t just…talk to him, he’s gonna think I’m weird. Who just walks up to someone and says ‘hi, I saw you in my friend’s orientation group two years ago and thought you were the most beautiful man in existence, and still think that in fact, would you mind going out with me?’” Jisoo levels you with a look that could make cacti wilt.
“Uh, plenty of people do that every day. That’s how relationships happen. I know you’ve got this big hard-on for this whole…pining, lovesick idiot look,” She barrels on, ignoring the squawk of defiance you let loose, “But it’s getting kind of hopeless. That one guy asked you out, like, last month, and you literally laughed at him.”
“In my defense, he was like way older than us! I don’t want to go out with a grandpa!”
“I cannot believe you just called Kim Seokjin a grandpa, the entire team is going to revolt against you for this.”
You huff and lead her to the table you picked out, which she very kindly does not mention gives you a perfect view of him while you pick at your food. She continues to rant at you about your hopeless crush, but you don’t even hear her anymore, because he’s laughing at something across the dining hall and it makes your chest tighten.
God damn, you don’t know how in the hell someone so fucking nerdy can make you so fucking weak in the knees.
Across the room, Jungkook adjusts the round lenses that have been sliding down his nose, and it makes your heart flutter. He laughs again at something someone beside him said. His nose scrunches as he does it, and the cute bunny teeth are obvious, and it makes you want to die a little inside but also throw him off a bridge a little bit. He starts talking, animated and excited, and you wonder what it is he’s talking about. You can almost pretend that he’s talking about you for a second, until he pulls something out of his bag and sets it on the table, covering it with his hands before pulling them back in a dramatic effort to reveal–
God, it’s a fucking Hatsune Miku figurine. 
You feel like sobbing at the sight. “God, he’s such a fucking weeb,” You say, hatred for yourself rolling off the words in absolute waves. Jisoo huffs, probably annoyed that you haven’t been listening to her rant, and waves a hand.
“You knew this,” She tells you bluntly. The issue is that she’s 100% correct; the first time you ever remember seeing Jungkook, he was in a God damn Naruto cosplay, dumbass wig in his hands while he adjusted his ninja headband, and he was still the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid your eyes on.
His eyes dart over like he could hear your thoughts and he makes eye contact; you get whiplash, you look away so fast. Your face is burning, you can feel it, and you’re actually in danger of staring a hole into the table with how hard you’re looking at it.
“You’re safe, he isn’t looking anymore,” Jisoo eventually says. You chance a glance to see that Jungkook is focused on whatever conversation he’s having, Hatsune Miku nowhere to be seen and replaced with a very pretty red flush across his cheeks. You audibly coo over the sight and Jisoo pretends to gag.
“Don’t you have class?” She says. It’s obviously an attempt to distract you, she’s always so transparent about those things. Jungkook looks over again and suddenly your phone becomes the most fascinating thing in the entire world. You balk at the time, because fuck, you really do have class in two minutes.
“Bye Jisoo, love you, don’t gorge yourself on waffles, or Rose will kill you at practice!” You shout over your shoulder as you bolt from the dining hall.
You don’t see nor feel the eyes on your back as you go, too focused on making the five-minute walk into a sixty-second sprint.
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Work is boring. It always is. You work the overnight shift, 9 pm to 4 am, so that you can balance your volleyball schedule and your classes and your bills. If there were less 24-hour coffee shops around, it may be busier, but alas, the trend of having spaces for haggard and exhausted college students to roll into at all hours of the day had caught on, and thus, you work at one of four all-night coffee shops. And that’s only on this side of campus. There were even more on the other side, where the dorms were, and they see much more traffic than yours. Kids never want to go very far to get caffeine, so the ones across the way were always bustling and packed full of people writing last-minute papers and emailing for sources and who knows what else. 
Which meant that only the stray customer wandered in after dark, usually people getting off work and wanting to unwind for a second before heading home. You got a lot of homeless people, camping out in corners away from other people and sipping on one coffee for hours at a time. Some of the other workers complained about them, but you didn’t really care one way or another. If it kept them off the street and out of the cold, then you’d let them sit there as long as you could. It wasn’t like there were many people around to complain, anyway.
Of course, the few customers meant that there were fewer interruptions to the daily tasks you had to do, so it only takes an hour or two, max, every night to get everything clean, stocked, polished, and counted. Which left another five for you to fill.
You sigh, staring at a blank page of your notebook. You’re lucky your boss doesn’t care if the workers do schoolwork on the job, so long as the work gets done and the customers are happy, but just this once you curse him for being so kind. You’ve been procrastinating this essay for a week and it was due next class, but you had absolutely no idea where to even start. You sigh again and straighten as the bell over the door rings, the customary 'Welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you today?’ already halfway out before you actually look up.
You choke on air as Jungkook smiles at you, small and shy and sweet, and you can actually feel part of your soul shrivel up and die along with every single one of your brain cells. You stare at him for a solid six seconds as he peruses the menu hanging above your head, and you’re so focused on memorizing the way he looks this close up that you nearly miss his order.
“A large iced black, please?” He phrases it like a question and it’s adorable, despite the countless times you’ve bitched to Jisoo about people doing the exact same thing in the past. You tack on your customer service smile as best you can and ring him up.
It’s a relief to turn away from him to actually make his drink. He’s gorgeous, even with the dumbass hoodie with some naked anatomy model on it that has to be from some anime, that it makes it hard for you to breathe. He’s not even wearing the nerd glasses and it just makes his eyes so much more obviously beautiful, and you know Jisoo is going to whine about hearing you wax poetic over them for weeks after this. Your hands shake as you pour the coffee into the cup and click the lid into place, but you force yourself to steady them as you hand it to him.
He’s blushing again, and you want to kiss it so badly, and he waves. “Thanks,” He says as he starts to leave. Your brain is torn between responses, one half reverting to your generic response and the other wanting to assure it him it was absolutely not anything he needed to thank you for, and you can feel the stupidity coming, but you cannot stop the words as they claw up your throat and you nearly shout–
“Your problem!”
He falters in his steps, turning to give you a confused look, and you’re honestly disappointed the earth doesn’t quake and part to drag you directly to the pits of hell, because even that would be less painful than having to maintain your professional demeanor like you didn’t just say the absolute stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your entire fucking life.
Jungkook just nods and strides out of the coffee shop, bell dinging in his wake.
The screech you unleash in the break room a few seconds later is inhuman and chilling, and yet Rose doesn’t seem at all fazed.
“I would say you should just talk to him, but clearly you can’t even do that like a normal person.” She pats your arm as you bang your head into the table, and you consider the option of getting new friends.
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You’re no stranger to wild Jungkook sightings. You both go to the same university, you both have similar classes, you both take full advantage of the dining hall at every opportunity, you both use the library. It’s hard to go ten feet on campus without seeing someone you know, and it’s even harder when you’re actively looking for that person everywhere you go.
So you’ve already seen him a couple of times after the Your Problem Incident - and you may have turned around and completely avoided even thinking about it, but who’s going to judge you for that, really - when you walk into an extra-credit lecture for one of your science classes to immediately zero in on the familiar grin.
You’d foolishly believed this would be a popular lecture and as such would be held in one of the big lecture halls, the ones that seat 100+ people, but no. Of course not. This was in a regular ass classroom, with regular tables and regular students and regular everything, including the dumbass that regularly stars in every single one of your daydreams. The impulse to turn and run jolts through you, but before you can do exactly that, Nayun is calling your name and waving you over to the seat she saved just for you.
Right in front of him.
Several people turn at her call, but you focus your gaze on the chair and refuse to look to see if he’s looking at you. You refuse, you will not be that girl, you have standards, dammit, and grades to keep up, and immense public humiliation to pretend never happened.
You have to pass him to sit at your chair since Satan himself designed the classroom and put the door at the back of the room, as only a literal demon would do. You focus on not falling flat on your face, as you’ve been prone to do when Jungkook is in your range of vision, and as such you’re wholly unprepared for the way his scent floods through your brain.
You’re able to sit before you collapse entirely, legs shaking because he smells so fucking good. You’ve become accustomed to the boys’ volleyball team, who’re known for always wanting to hang out right after practices but not ever wanting to shower after practices. You’ve been friends with guys before. You are very close with several of the guys on the volleyball team. You’ve been around college dudes for three entire years. You know how guys smell, you know they all tend to get wrapped up in whatever boys think about and neglect their own hygiene unless gently reminded that no, Taehyung, girls do not like it when a guy is sweaty.
Apparently, one dude didn’t get the memo, because Jungkook smells like fucking heaven. Clean linens and summer flowers and rainstorms, with a lingering and faint whisper of chlorine that shoves you into the nostalgia of high school summers at the pool with your friends. It’s glorious and wonderful and you’ve never been close enough to smell him before, which you also never thought would ever go through your brain.
You wish you could say you’ve never thought of how he might smell, you really do. But the truth is you are a girl in love, with an overactive imagination and a lot of time spent not writing essays. You’ve imagined a lot of things. And yet. Even in your wildest daydreams, there is no possible way you ever could have expected it to floor you the way it did.
Nayun is saying something and you’re nodding along, but she could be telling you the secret to life itself and you would never know. You’re too focused on him. You can’t look at him - a blessing and a curse, because now you may be able to pay attention to the lecture, but you’ll also be too distracted to think about anything but if he’s looking at you - but you can hear him. You’ve heard him speak before, you’ve built up somewhat of a resistance to his voice and the way it slides along the air, which is such a sappy romantic thing to think but here you fucking are.
You have not, however, heard him speak for such a long period of time about the continuity errors in Boku No Hero Academia. You don’t even know what the fuck that is, never heard the phrase in your entire life, but he’s so passionate about it that you can’t help but listen. He’s making all sorts of points and giving all kinds of examples and you want to nod along just to encourage him. For all you know he could be wrong about every single instance he mentions but fuck, he just sounds so sure of himself and so absolute that it has you wanting to agree.
The sheer confidence in what he’s saying has you getting weak in the knees. He’s such an absolute fucking weeb, and yet it’s always been so sexy to you when someone knows their shit and can prove it. You could have gone your entire life without knowing that that particular kink extended to fucking anime.
The professor walks in shortly after and you are blessedly saved from more of Jungkook’s rants about anime inconsistencies. You’re impossibly wet and you curse yourself for the millionth time for somehow falling for the biggest dork the planet has possibly ever seen. You focus all of your attention on the lecture, doing your best to take notes even as you find yourself doodling the best (read: atrocious) representations of Jungkook in the margins of your notebook.
You groan on the way out. You’d spent the full hour and a half taking sporadic notes between doodles of Jungkook as a prince. You still couldn’t decide if you were imagining the feeling of someone watching you, either. Nayun just laughs and leads you to the dining hall for dinner before you both had to head to practice.
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You are blessedly free of Jungkook for exactly four days. It is, in fact, a new record, since the first time you saw him.
It’s turned your life into a hellscape and you hate it.
You look for him around every corner and past every door, and more than once you’ve caught yourself expecting him to walk through the door at the coffee shop for absolutely no reason. You’ve only ever seen him there the one time. There was literally no reason to expect him to show up ever again, and yet each time someone walked in, you responded as if it was the 1500s and the king himself had entered the building.
If you’re being honest, though, your biggest issue with not seeing Jungkook’s dumb ass for four entire days is that it is just long enough for you to start to expect not to see him. It’s just enough time for you to get so accustomed to not seeing him around that you stop turning corners and looking for him immediately. You don’t immediately think 'this is it’ when the bell above the shop door rings. It takes a second to kick in, a delayed response that is still habit but one on its way out.
You miss him, that is definite. You find yourself wishing that he would show up out of the blue one day, spouting some nonsense, just for the sake of hearing it again. His rants about which Bleach character would actually win a fight because 'well, according to the manga,’ his tirades about how the revamp of Voltron is nowhere near as genuine as the original and is clearly pandering, you just…miss it. You never understand a goddamn thing he’s saying but it’s so fucking attractive. He’s so passionate about all of it and he’s so knowledgeable that even the discussion you overheard in the library about the top ten most powerful moves in the entirety of YuYuHakusho had you dripping and running for your apartment, and you miss that.
At this point, though, you should know the universe fucking hates you.
It’s late, close to 2 am, you haven’t slept in too long because you had an away game that afternoon that you lost on a fucking bullshit call and then had to stay to watch the boys’ team play. They, of course, crushed their opponents, which you were proud of, but it only made your defeat that much more bitter. You were still pissed about it when you rolled into work that night, Rose lagging behind to talk to the coach and Jimin glowing beside you with how well his team had done.
You’re tired, you’re pissed, you’re starving, you have a test in six hours that you haven’t studied for, the cafe is mercilessly dead, there’s a guy in the corner building an actual literal scale model of a castle, and all you can think about is the bullshit ref insisting that the ball touched Jisoo’s elbow after she made contact and completely fucking over the last serve of the game in favor of your opponents.
Jimin, the light of your life and angel among men, had gotten your food before your break. It isn’t fancy, two quick drive-thru burgers with fries and a drink, but it may as well be the nectar of the gods with the way you’re inhaling it. The angel and future father of your immaculate conception babies sits on one of the stools against the counter, chin in his hand as he watches you eat. He looks torn between horror and fascination and you can’t blame him for it. It must be a sight to behold: you, behind the shop counter, elbows planted for maximum efficiency, mouth stuffed full of French fries, ripping viciously into a burger as you continue to go off about the bullshit that was your match that day.
Really, you wouldn’t be this mad any other day. But the combination of so many shitty things - hunger, exhaustion, stress, frustration, not having seen the love of your life Jeon Jungkook in y e a r s - has you absolutely livid. You’re well past the end of your break by now, but Rose knows all too well how you are and is graciously letting you vent until you’re less ready to rip the head off the next person that comes in the door.
You express the sentiment to Jimin, who laughs, the fucker, and fail to realize that someone has, actually, just walked into the coffee shop. You’re halfway through your sentence - “I swear to God, Park, if I see that fucking ref again, I’m gonna rip his balls off and shove them so far up his ass that he starts to digest them, what kind of bullshit even was that, her elbow was nowhere near the ball, that foul never would’ve stood if we had been on our court,” - when it registers that Rose is taking an order. You glance over, out of habit more than anything, and proceed to attempt to inhale the food crammed into your mouth as you gasp.
Of course, of fucking course, Jungkook would show up while you’re like this. Your hair is a mess, still damp from the post-game shower, you’ve got some kind of stain on your shirt from the food that’s absolutely smashed into your mouth, and you’ve just been basically shouting expletives all over your workplace, which he definitely heard. It’s made worse because he’s staring at you, eyes wide behind his stupid round glasses, and his striped shirt with fucking ridiculous overalls. You’re torn between planting one on him since he looks so fucking cute and bewildered, decking him straight in the face because where the fuck has he been, and just bolting straight out of the shop because the guy you’ve liked for two fucking years witnessed all of that and you want to die.
You stare at him and he stares at you, looking as shocked as you feel. Jimin is just looking between the two of you, a shit-eating grin overtaking his face as he starts to connect dots you never ever wanted him to connect, because-
“Jungkook-ah, I didn’t know you came here!” Jimin says, grinning at the younger boy and one of his very best friends. He’s got a glint in his eye that you recognize and you contemplate not for the first time if you could actually impale him with a coffee stirrer.
“Oh, yeah, well…” Jungkook stutters and you hate that it’s so cute. “The others close to my dorm are all really busy at this time of night, y'know, so I like to get coffee on this side of campus so it’s still coffee and not watered down when I get back to my dorm.”
“Why don’t you just drink it here?” Jimin asks as he stirs his own coffee that had long since gone cold, as if he had every right in the world to offer up your coffee shop to a literal God among men. “It’s quiet, you could probably get more work done here than in your dorm. I remember you said your neighbors have been keeping you up.”
Jungkook turns red and looks away. Rose takes the opportunity to slide his iced coffee across to him and he takes it with a smile that makes your heart melt. You watch the exchange with more focus than you probably should, and the food is forgotten in lieu of your future husband right there in front of you for the first time in days.
“I guess I could,” Jungkook eventually says, eyes darting all over. They rest on you every few minutes before quickly flying away, and it makes you even more self-conscious of the stain on your shirt and the way grease has no doubt pooled around your mouth. You grab a napkin to try to clean yourself up as Jungkook continues. “I just don’t know if I could focus here, y'know, there’re a lot of…distractions.”
The silence that follows the statement is deafening, only broken by the quiet huffs of the guy building a castle in the corner.
Jungkook turns even redder and ruffles the back of his hair. It’s impossibly cute and you’re halfway to offering to ruffle it for him, either between his sheets or in the alley out back, when Jimin cuts you off.
“Well, you should consider it, at least. I always have the best times here, even with all the distractions.” Jimin sips at his coffee as he speaks and you get the very distinct sense that he’s teasing Jungkook about something you don’t know. The younger boy just smiles and gives a quick bye to Jimin and Rose. You like to think his smile softens as he looks at you, and the way he says your name as he waves will forever be embedded into your mind.
He’s gone before you can respond and you’re glad, sure you must be at least as red as the strawberry syrup. Jimin whirls on you the second Jungkook is out of sight, Rose doing her best to pretend she isn’t mortified for you.
“I cannot believe that you didn’t tell me - me - that the guy you’ve been pining after all these years is Jungkook.” Jimin sounds scandalized and betrayed and his face just makes you think of- “Top Ten Anime Betrayals, really.”
“Fuck, this is exactly why I didn’t want you to know! I used his codename for a reason.” You whine, dropping your head to the countertop with a resounding thud.
“Oh, yes, because Dumb DumbDook is oh-so-subtle,” Rose mutters. You ignore her.
“I could have been doing wingman work this whole time, though! Imagine how much further along you’d be if I’d been able to hype you up every time I hang out with him. You’d be able to talk to him, five words at least.” You smack Rose when she laughs.
“No, absolutely not. There’s no way it’s gonna happen, Jimin, I can’t set myself up for that failure.” You shake your head and go back to your food, though you’re much less angry after seeing your weeb. “Besides, we’ve got like…nothing in common, what would we even talk about?”
“Are you serious?” The deadpan is what catches your attention, and when you glance up, the look Jimin is giving is scathing. “I’ve heard you gush about his nerd rants, alright, you said yourself you could listen to him talk for weeks without getting bored of hearing his voice.”
“Conversations are a two-way street, Jimin. What the fuck could I contribute to that?”
“Uh…you’re kidding me, right? You didn’t see that face he made while you were doing your whole 'I’m gonna shit talk the ref because he made a call I didn’t like’ thing.”
“It was bullshit and you know it, he never would’ve done that shit for the other side.”
“Point stands, dude. Kook could listen to you go off about your sports shit for just as long as you could with his anime shit. I’d put money on it.”
“You’re delusional, Park, but I’m gonna let you live in this fantasy world because it’s nice to have company here.” He scoffs but doesn’t press the topic, which you’re thankful for. Instead, you fish your study guide out of your bag and hand it to him so he can quiz you about the test you have in four hours.
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It seems that Jungkook takes Jimin’s word as law because he starts to show up more and more often. At first, it was just the coffee shop, where he would order his iced black and then leave with a shy smile that had you melting. Then he was at the library at the same time you were, one table over and typing furiously away at his laptop. You assumed it was for a class until he disappeared and returned with a printed copy and you caught the “Neon Genesis Evangelion: A New Order, Chapter Five” at the top.
You won’t lie, you did judge him just a bit for that because you don’t even know anything about the show but no way in hell would you be caught dead printing your fanfic on wireless school computers when cloud hacks are a thing.
He appears at your favorite takeout place, too; not that he saw you since you dove behind a fish tank to avoid getting caught. You’d watched carefully through the water as he waited, looking around in the meantime as if in search of something. He almost looked dejected when he left, though you didn’t know why until you got your food and found out they were out of crab rangoon like you hadn’t just been playing peekaboo with one in the fish tank for twenty minutes.
The thing that really gets you, though, the one that grinds your gears, is how he makes the coffee shop his thing. He just keeps showing up, night after night, and while at first he just left with his coffee, he apparently decided that wasn’t enough, because now he stays. He parks himself at the corner table near the outlet and taps away at his laptop while you try to do any semblance of work. He’s so distracting. He makes the most adorable faces - the brow furrow and slight frown when he’s focused and trying to figure something out, the clenched jaw with tongue in cheek when he’s irritated or frustrated, the cute ass bunny smile that makes you want to jump off a bridge and/or push him off a bridge.
Honestly, if you’re being truthful, you could’ve gotten used to that. He’s quiet and doesn’t talk much and even though you can feel him nearby like a sunflower to the sun, you could’ve managed eventually.
The issue is that his nerd friends start joining him, and they are not quiet. They are loud and argumentative and enjoy debating their dweeb things and they especially enjoy dragging Jungkook into said dweebates, if you will. Which in and of itself is not terrible. You’ve had a literal debate team in here practicing, you’re accustomed to that kind of thing.
No, the issue is that Jungkook is like the king weeb. He seems to know everything about everything complete with sources to back it up and even if he doesn’t know something he can either find out in ten seconds or he can bullshit his way to being right. And it’s so goddamn sexy. He just fucking…owns the other nerds, no matter what the subject is, and he’s so confident and sure and he gets sassy with them when he knows he’s right and they’re wrong. The body language, the expression on his face, the way he just stomps them into the dirt…it gets you hot and bothered every fucking time, and it’s a problem, because you’re at work. It is not socially acceptable to kidnap someone into the break room to fuck their brains out because they just won an argument about whether Yu Gi Oh or Pokemon was a more successful trading card game.
It’s made even even worse because Jungkook has started to pay attention to your rants. Every time you have a game or watch one with the team, you and Rose spend at least part of your shift talking about the ups and downs, what can be improved, what you specifically need to work on and how you can do it. One night the two of you spent upwards of an hour debating whether Lang Ping or Mireya was a better overall player and why, and when you finally stopped to restock the coffee beans, Jungkook was staring at you with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.
Of course, that was when you turned and hid in the storage room for the rest of your shift, but the point fucking stands.
Jeon Jungkook is a menace and he is taking over your life and you really should be more mad about it. It almost comes to a head when Jimin drags you to a swim meet, which you have attended exactly zero times in your entire life because who the fuck cares about swim meets.
“Trust me,” He had pleaded. “I want to go to support some friends, but I’m gonna be bored if I have to sit alone on the bleachers.” You’d eventually caved when he promised to buy you food, and now your ass was planted on the most uncomfortable stand seats you’ve ever been on and you were about to pop a blood vessel because Jimin was being so fucking infuriating about everything. He’d pulled you straight from practice, not letting you change or shower or anything, and he’d been trying to goad you into a debate the entire time you’d been waiting for the meet to start. It was legitimately starting to get you riled up, even as you stretched your legs out, thighs spread wide as your fingers massaged the muscles in your familiar post-game routine.
“For the last fucking time, Jimin, no, the Canada/Mexico save was not better than the fucking Italy/France save!” He rolls his eyes, but he opened this can of worms so now he has to suffer with you. “It was flashier, sure, with the sliding and the moving of the barriers, but the Italy/France save was more technically sound and less likely to result in any kind of ref interference. They were both good, sure, but there is no way you can truly believe that the flashier and less technically sound and less safe of the two is actually better.”
“Oh, your boyfriend’s waving,” Jimin says as he smiles and waves, eyes turning into crescents as he does.
“What? I don’t have a-” You stop when you look. You really should have expected this because life is a cruel mistress and the universe itself is even crueler, but here you were. Rendered speechless by the sight of Jungkook. In swim pants. Shirtless.
“You’re drooling,” Jimin comments dryly.
“Fuck off, it’s not my fault he’s sculpted by the gods.” You don’t even bother to look at Jimin, too focused on the way Jungkook’s back flexes as he pulls himself out of the water. Time legitimately slows, water falling off of him and trailing down abs you did not know were there, and your heart honest to God stops beating. “What the fuck is he even doing here?”
“He’s on the swim team,” Jimin smirks and calls Jungkook over before you can shove your hand over his mouth. “Kook-ah, good luck! You’re gonna do great!”
“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook says with an excited grin as he jogs over. You don’t think you take a single breath in the five minutes they chat. Your chest may actually explode, and you’re tempted to dive into the pool not two feet away to cool off. Jungkook steps back like he’s going to leave, giving you a small smile as he does.
“Wait, Jungkook, remind me, how did you get into swimming? Someone was curious,” Jimin nods ever so subtly to you but you can’t even find the strength to be upset because Jungkook’s chest is right there and you want to run your tongue along his muscles.
“Oh, there’s actually this anime called Free! I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, it’s really good, but it’s about these swimmers. They complete and a lot of it is them learning how to get better at their techniques so I thought, 'well, that can’t be that hard can it?’“ You let out a quiet sob. He’s just…you clench your fist in your lap and sigh. He’s just such a fucking nerd. Jungkook shoots you a somewhat worried look but continues. “It’s how I learned archery and boxing, too. I saw them in manga and got really interested and figured if the characters can do it, why can’t I?”
“God, that’s so fucking nerdy,” You mutter. It doesn’t register that you spoke out loud until you see Jungkook’s reddening face and hear Jimin’s soft choke. “In a good way! I mean, I think it’s…it’s really awesome that you just saw it and did it, that’s really…” Don’t say sexy. “…cool.”
Jungkook stares at you, cheeks reddened, and you struggle not to start digging your own grave here and now in the middle of this indoor pool area. You’re about to stand and do exactly that when Jungkook’s face brightens and his nose crinkles and the most blinding grin you’ve ever seen in your life takes over his face as his shoulders bunch up. Your eyes are probably actual fucking hearts now, it’s easily the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen on a human male as tall and buff as he is, and it kind of makes you want to shove him in the pool.
You really don’t have to, though, because he just shakes his head and turns to go back to the swimmer’s benches or whatever they’re called in swimming. He’s ruffling the back of his hair again and watching the ground, but he keeps turning back to beam at you and Jimin. You see it before Jimin does, and both of you start to call for him when his heel slips and he falls completely back into the water.
Every face in the area turns to look at where Jungkook is surfacing, wiping his face and slicking his hair back out of his face. The sight of it nearly sends you into heart palpitations because you honestly didn’t think he could get more fucking attractive but you were wrong. You force yourself to calm down because Jimin is too busy rolling on the ground beside you to be of any use in resuscitating you if your heart actually gave out.
“Ah, nani,” You hear Jungkook mutter as he climbs out of the pool and you wish you had a brick to hit yourself with because of course, of fucking course, he looks so fucking good and is so fucking bone-meltingly hot and still says weeb shit like ‘ah, nani’ when he falls into a goddamn pool.
You’re honestly legitimately fucked and the fact that you don’t even care anymore says a lot more about you than you want it to.
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It all actually comes to a head nearly a week after the swim meet. The sight of a wet and dripping and half-naked Jungkook doesn’t leave your mind, forever burned into your retinas, but even more wonderful is the shy, bashful Jungkook that greets you the next day at the coffee shop. It’s almost like he thinks you’re going to tease him, as if he didn’t see you shoving your whole mouth full of junk while cursing out a ref, as if he didn’t fully hear you tell him ‘your problem!’ with a happy grin and death in your eyes the first time he came into the shop.
It’s just…it’s so fucking cute that you physically cannot contain it anymore, and you find yourself bemoaning your state of perpetual adoration with Jisoo and Rose while you all shower after the latest match.
“I’m just going to suffer for the rest of my life aren’t I?” You say, speaking louder than you typically would in order to be heard over the several showerheads currently running. “It’s too much for my heart to take, absolutely too much, he’s too fucking…ugh, clenches fist, he’s too fucking cute.”
“Did you just verbalize the ‘clenches fist’ meme?” Rose shoots from her own stall. You shoot a face at the wall separating you, not that she can see it. “Listen, you know how I feel about this. You need to make a move because that boy never will. He’s a mess.”
“Wow, who else do we know that’s also a mess at all times for the guy they’ve liked for years?” Jisoo comments from her own shower across the way. You groan and kick your stall door, which only results in a muffled curse and you cradling your toe as you balance precariously on one foot.
“Do not injure yourself, we have a tournament next weekend,” Rose says offhandedly. You huff.
“Why would I even make a move? He’s got…Hatsune Miku and anime girls and shit.”
“Oh, of course,” Rose says. “I forgot, every guy would willingly give up a gorgeous, real-life girl willing to fuck him senseless for a pretty cartoon. Silly me.”
“What I don’t get,” Nayun calls from the locker room proper. “Is why you think he isn’t interested. He gets a chub every time he so much as looks at you, and don’t think Jimin didn’t tell me about the swim meet. The boy fell into a pool.”
“Yeah, because he’s a goddamn idiot.” You shake your head and wash the conditioner from your hair.
“What if we dare you to do it?” Rose’s voice echoes from too close. You turn and see her silhouette against the plastic shower curtain. She takes your confused silence as permission to continue. “Seriously, if we dare you to ask him out, will you?”
“What the fuck,” You say, sticking your head out of the curtain to level a glare at her. “I’m not ten years old, why the fuck would I do something just because you dare me to?”
“Bet, then,” Jisoo says as she wraps her hair in a towel. Your eyes must be wide as saucers because she laughs. “Bet on it. If the boys lose this game, you have to ask him out.”
“No no,” Rose says, and a familiar and all-too-dangerous grin spreads on her face. “If the boys lose this game, you have to confess. Do the gift and the letter and the whole fucking anime thing for him. If they win, we’ll drop it, and listen to your moaning and groaning for the rest of forever without complaint or comment.” Jisoo and Nayun look much too excited at the prospect, but you’ve been watching the boys play all season.
“What kind of bet is that? The boys haven’t lost a game all season.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?” Rose says, grinning as she saunters over to put her street clothes on. “Five minutes before game start.” You curse and rush to finish your shower, determined not to run laps for being late again.
As fate would have it, you do have reason to worry, because apparently, the rival university recruited some fucking professional athlete super mutants or some shit. It’s a close game, the boys only losing by one, but with the level of skill they’ve been playing with all season, it should’ve been an easy win.
And yet.
You’re standing outside the boys’ locker room, waiting patiently for Jimin. It’s a routine you got into when you first met, just after you’d both joined the respective teams. He would wait for you and you would wait for him, as long as it took, especially after a loss. You’re still in shock, still reeling from the game itself. You would almost think Jimin had found out about the bet and thrown the game, just to get you to shut the fuck up about Jungkook, if you didn’t know him.
If you didn’t see the dedication he put into the game, the perfection he expected of himself and his team. It rivals even Rose’s, and you can hear him yelling from where you stand, slamming what is probably his fist into a locker several times before he falls silent. As much as you had riding on this game, as pissed as you are that you lost the bet, you know it’s minuscule in comparison to the way Jimin feels, and you can’t even summon up enough energy to fool yourself otherwise. You’ve known him too long.
When he finally does emerge, you help wrap his knuckles with a clean bandage and ruffle his hair. “It’ll be alright, Park,” You tell him, quiet. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you sling your arm around his shoulder to lead him to your car. He’s quiet the rest of the night, even as you eat shitty fast food burgers in your car, even as he sits at the counter at the coffee shop, textbook open in front of him but not reading it.
“So I bet the girls that I would do an anime confession for Jungkook if you lost, you wanna help me plan it?” You ask him towards the end of your shift, long after said dork is gone from the shop. It’s the only time you see Jimin smile all night, but it’s worth it for the way his eyes crinkle and he starts outlining ideas.
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“Did you even sleep last night?”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Jimin responds as he chugs the rest of his coffee. Calling it coffee is generous, if you’re honest because it smells like he put twenty espresso shots in a cup and added some sugar. You force back a gag and shudder at the thought. “Everything’s in place?”
“This isn’t a bank heist, Jimin, I’m giving him a fucking box and a letter.” Even behind sunglasses you can tell the look he’s giving you is withering. “Whatever, yes, everything’s in place.”
“Good. Target sighted. Commence mission.”
You huff, grumbling as you move forward to the door. Of the cafe. Where you work. Where Jungkook is sitting, surrounded by his dork friends and heatedly arguing about something you no doubt have no clue about. Looking absolutely delectable, despite just being in a regular ass fucking jacket and a beanie that almost matches his skin and his hair looks so soft that you want to rub your face in it and also maybe bury your fingers in it while he’s between your legs.
You open the door and are immediately hit with the sound of Rose choking on her drink, the sudden conversation about which dps character is better - what the fuck that means, you don’t know - screeching to a halt, and every single person in the shop staring at you. Which is only like three people that aren’t Rose, Jungkook, Jimin, or the six people around Jungkook, but still. You force yourself not to throw up and move, cursing the itchy and uncomfortable dress the entire way.
Really, it was Jimin’s fault. You’d been brainstorming ways to confess and how to make it so perfectly Jungkook that he at least had to respond. He’d been the one to suggest dressing up as Hatsune Miku, which you, of course, nixed immediately. You weren’t about to spend who knows how much on a fucking wig and costume of one of the most popular cartoon characters of the modern age, not when you were only going to use it one fucking time.
So here you fucking are, dressed up like god damn Haruhi Fujioka, in an itchy yellow dress that doesn’t move where it should and feels like fucking sandpaper against your skin, that Jimin just happened to have on hand, like that wasn’t super fucking weird, and now everyone at your place of employment is staring at you and the small white box in your hands with a little pink envelope on top of it and you can hear Rose’s muffled laughter as you step further into the shop.
You stare at the ground as you walk, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before you’re staring down at Jungkook’s Timbs. You take a deep breath, and then another, and then another before you look up. He’s openly gawking, jaw nearly on the floor as he looks you up and down. Not a single soul is making a noise in the shop, so your voice rings out loud clear as you say–
“My chest hurts when I think about this person. When this person is happy, I am happy. When he smiles, I feel like crying. I distinguish his voice better than other people’s. I think this person is respectable. I want to become this person’s strength. I have scored more than 80 points, and it’s official. I-” You stop, cursing the fact that you’re doing this at three in the fucking morning on your day off in your workplace all because of a fucking bet and the fact that you couldn’t shut up about Jungkook’s stupid fucking face for more than two minutes without being in danger of combustion. “I like him, and I hope that he feels the same.”
You shove the white box into his hands and turn on your heel. Without looking back, you march out the door, grabbing Jimin on the way even as Jungkook calls after you. You keep going, walking quicker than you ever have to get to your apartment as fast as possible. Jimin just laughs as he follows you.
“I can’t believe you actually did it, holy shit. I hope he likes the chocolates, you worked really hard on them.”
“This is going to end up on the internet, I just know it, and I’m stating right now that this was not how I ever wanted to fucking tell him.” Jimin laughs again and hands you the coffee Rose had made you. When you finally make it back to your apartment, he helps you take the dress off and gets the pint of ice cream out of the freezer so you can wallow in peace.
“You don’t even know what he’s going to say,” Jimin protests, though he heaps his own spoon with ice cream in the process.
“I walked up to him in a jank cosplay of a shojo manga character and confessed my fucking love for him, Jimin.” He balks at the look you give him. “I don’t care how much of an otaku he is, he’s gonna think I’m fucking weird.”
“Well, don’t count yourself out just yet, alright?” Jimin ruffles your hair and you swat at him. “You never know. Maybe he’s really into Ouran and you just don’t know it.” You groan and bury your face in a pillow in an attempt to smother yourself. It doesn’t work.
It still hasn’t worked the next day when you wake up around noon to find Jimin gone and your dishes done for you. You grumble about it since you had every intention of doing your own dishes, but you send him a quick ‘thanks for washing my grime bitch’ because no matter how capable you are, you never want to do them.
It’s later that night when you’re fresh out of the shower and getting ready to head to your practice except for the fact that you can’t find your fucking keys that there’s a knock on your door. You open it without looking and dive back into the couch, bent nearly in half while you dig through the cushions. “Hey, Nayun, I’m almost ready, I just have to find my keys. I think Jimin threw them somewhere last night, after that fucking debacle at the shop-” A choked noise that definitely does not sound like Nayun reaches your eyes and you bolt upright, eyes wide.
Jungkook stands in the doorway to your apartment, wide eyes darting up from where he most definitely was staring at your ass and his face bright red. “Jimin gave me your address. Um…can we talk?”
You really want to say no. You want to tell him that no, you can’t, because you have volleyball practice, as he can tell from your uniform, and you absolutely cannot be late because Rose will literally use your entrails to make a new net.
Instead what comes out is, “Sure!”
You wave him in and close the door behind him, shooting off a quick text to Rose to let her know you might be late or may not show up at all, you’re not really sure because motherfucking Jeon Jungkook just showed up at your door. All you get back is a string of the cry-laughing emojis, and you curse whatever deity decided she should walk this earth with mortals.
“So,” Jungkook says. It’s long and drawn out, like he doesn’t really know where to go from here, but you’re distracted because he looks so good. Matching grey hoodie and sweats that are just the right side of baggy, standard Timbs, hair pushed to the side slightly to show off a bit of forehead. God, what is the world coming to that you’re this worked up over some fucking forehead?
“So,” You echo.
“Did you mean those things you said yesterday?” You hesitate and he takes it as an answer in itself. “Listen, I…I get it, y’know? You’re this super cool volleyball star, and I’m a big nerd who swims, haha, let’s tease the kid about his crush, but…it didn’t really seem like you were teasing. And now I’m confused because I can’t tell if you actually meant any of that or if you were just…dared to do it.”
“I was. Kind of. It was a bet, actually.” Jungkook’s face falls and you wince. “No, not like that, it wasn’t. Fuck, okay, it wasn’t a mean bet. I made a bet with the girls on the team that if the boys lost their game, then I would confess my feelings to you in some big dramatic anime way, like all that shit you like, right, and then the boys actually lost their game, so I had to do it, and then, wait.” Your brain catches up. “Did you say you have a crush on me?”
Jungkook’s face is still slightly pink, but he’s got the most tentative bunny smile on and he looks so unbearably fond that your heart is breaking. “I did,” He says softly. “So you really have feelings for me?”
“I’ve been in love with you for more than two years,” You blurt. You immediately want to take it back, want to suck the words back in before they can escape and embarrass you further, but it’s too late. “I mean…I was an orientation leader with Jimin right before my second year and you were in his group, and I saw you talking to some people and you were just really super cute and you have a really nice smile and I was kind of hooked and then later that year we were both at the dining hall and I was sitting near you and this guy said something about some anime and you were all, ‘really, because if you’d bothered to watch the show then you’d know blah blah blah’ and it was the single hottest anime takedown I’ve ever seen.”
Jungkook is silent through your babble, though his smile just grows and he fluffs the back of his hair. He looks around your apartment briefly, like he’s looking for words, and he’s got the prettiest flush on his face and you want to kiss it but he hasn’t said anything.
“I went to your first volleyball match that year, and you spiked a ball into a girl’s face,” He admits. You remember that match, mostly because- “And then you argued with the ref for almost ten minutes about whether or not you deserved a penalty for it because technically she was the one that tried to hit the ball with her face, you hadn’t tried to hit her in the face. I’ve never been so turned on by sports in my entire life.”
“I once spat water out my nose because you said hi to me in the dining hall.”
“I fell into that pool because you looked really fucking hot in your uniform and I couldn’t process the fact that you thought my anime shit was cool.”
“I want to lick your abs.”
He stops at that, and for a second, for a single second you think maybe you went too far, but then he’s glancing around at the apartment as if he’s actually looking for something now. “Is there anyone else here?” He eventually asks. You can’t even finish shaking your head before he’s on you, pressing his mouth to yours in a feverish kiss.
You want to say that it was soft and sweet and gentle at first, but it wasn’t, at all. The two of you had too much pent up sexual frustration for that. Instead, his lips move against yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect, and his hand on the back of your neck is unforgiving as he tilts your jaw to get deeper into your mouth.
“Fuck, Kook,” You moan, hands already roaming along his sweatshirt. “Please take it off, I’m begging you.” He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling against your lips and it sends a wave of arousal crashing through you even as he strips his hoodie off to reveal nothing underneath. You feast your eyes on the muscles he keeps hidden away, hands hesitating as they start to run along the skin. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, seems to actually bask in it, and he chuckles again as he lets his hands fall to your hips.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” He whispers in your ear, and you find yourself shaking at the way it feels. Erotic and sensual and hot as fuck, you want to return the favor, but you find yourself at a loss.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” You ask, pushing against his chest and walking back with him until his knees hit the couch. “Do you know how often I’ve thought of this?” You push again and he falls back onto it, hands coming to grip your thighs as you straddle him, and you make sure to grind your hips against his as you move to whisper into his ear. “How often I’ve touched myself thinking of you?”
Jungkook moans, and you want to etch the sound into your fucking skin, it’s absolutely glorious. He says your name like it’s a curse and you’ve never wanted someone more. You grind yourself against the stiffness you can feel through his sweats, your own volleyball shorts leaving little to the imagination. You’re absolutely soaked, and you know it’s going to be a bitch to wash but you could not give less of a fuck right now.
He rolls his hips up to meet yours and it’s your turn to moan, hands coming up to brace on his shoulders as your tongue slides along his neck and down to his throat. His breath hitches when you graze the skin there with your teeth, so you repeat the action. His hands tighten at your hips and slide to palm your ass; you never thought a guy’s hand on your ass would feel as good as it does, but you also never thought you’d be making out with Jeon Jungkook on your couch instead of going to practice.
“Fuck, Kook,” You moan into his mouth as he slides his right hand up your shirt to cup your breast. It’s more difficult than it usually would be, as you wear your sports bras to practice, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. “Need you.”
“Don’t wanna fuck you on your couch yet,” He replies between the slide of his tongue against yours. “Your room, wanna make you come in your bed first.” Your legs tremble at the thought and you push yourself up. It’s hard to stand, your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook doesn’t even seem to notice it as you turn. His chest is pressed against your back immediately, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other gropes your ass. His mouth is harsh on your neck and you can feel the bruises forming but at this point, you don’t even care.
You press yourself into him, and you can feel him. He curves, you can already tell; the heat radiating from the hardness pressed into the swell of your ass is delicious, and another wave of wetness seeps into your shorts as you think about what it’s gonna be like with him inside.
“You have no idea what these shorts do to me,” He whispers, nipping at the skin of your neck one last time before he slaps your ass - hard. You yelp, more in surprise than anything, but before you can say anything he’s pushing at your hips to force you through the apartment.
You’ve only made it to your bed faster once before this, when you thought you were being chased by an ax murderer that turned out to be a coat rack.
Jungkook isn’t gentle when you get to your room. He doesn’t even pause, just flips you around and shoves you onto the bed. It shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, and you’re quivering a little because of it. He slides between your legs, hands running slowly up your thighs, and it seems that now he’s decided to take his time.
His touch is feather-light against your skin. You can barely feel his hands as they slide up your thighs and over your hips, around your waist, and between your breasts, but you can’t ever deny where they are. You’re hyperaware of him, and the smirk on his face tells you that he knows it. The competitive side of you, the one that makes you so fucking vicious during games, swells; he needs to know you’re not one to take it lying down, and he needs to know now.
Your legs move up around his waist and you push, using all your weight to flip the two of you so he straddles you once more. He’s rock solid against your ass and you grind back into it. His hands slide along your waist again and he pouts a little.
“Wanted to taste you,” He whines, fingers dipping just below the waistband of your shorts. You hook your thumbs in alongside his and pull, letting the material slide down just enough to tease.
“So do it,” You tell him. He looks confused for a second before recognition washes over him. His dick twitches behind you, but you pay it no mind. You rise up enough to slide your shorts off, a true feat of excellence considering how tight they are, and when you settle back down on your knees, his tongue runs across your slit. You gasp at the feeling and he takes this as permission to continue.
Whatever you expected him to be like in bed, every sexual fantasy you’ve ever had about him, none could ever live up to the reality of Jungkook’s tongue sliding between your folds to flick your clit. You moan, nails digging into your thighs.
“You like that, princess?” He asks, muffled by your thighs and pussy. You nod before realizing that he may not be able to see you.
“Yes, I do,” You tell him, and your nails dig in harder when he flicks it again. He continues, tongue darting out to tease you but not giving you enough to get you where you want to go. You growl, and he laughs.
“Maybe you should be kitten instead if you’re going to growl at me.” You shudder at the name, and when you look down with red cheeks, he has one brow raised. “Really? Kitten?”
“Shut up, I know you have a Hatsune Miku body pillow,” You tell him. He looks ready to protest but you lower yourself so his lips brush your folds. He takes the hint, thankfully, and lets his hands curl up to grip your hips. “Put that fucking mouth to work, Jungkook, or so help me-” You’re cut off by an unexpected moan. He slides his tongue along you once more, from clit to hole, and you whimper.
You can literally feel the smirk against your pussy and you rock down onto him. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit and back down to your hole. You grind your hips down into his mouth, desperate for more friction, and you feel soft breaths against you as he chuckles. You whine and he takes pity, angling himself better before sliding his tongue tantalizingly slow into you. You clench around him and are left unsatisfied. As wonderful and skilled as it is, it’s not nearly big enough to do what you need it to. Still, it feels damn good as he thrusts it in and out of you, good enough that when he starts to pull away, your hands dart down and tangle in his hair to keep him right where he is. You can feel your orgasm coming, it’s so close you can taste it, and when he slides a finger over your clit, you break.
Your hips stutter in their rhythm and you slide yourself to the side so he can breathe properly once more. He’s got a grin on his face and looks entirely too pleased with himself. He moves to lay between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your torso and thighs with every breath, and the fondness in your chest swells.
You can see him straining his sweats, it has to hurt, and yet here he is, showering you with kisses and sweet nothings instead of immediately trying to get off himself. What a refreshing change of pace.
“Thank you,” He mutters with a laugh, and you realize you’d been talking out loud. “I do really, really want to fuck you, though.” He trails kisses up your neck to your ear and you shiver. “Would you like that, kitten?” You whine and arousal courses through you once more. He trails kisses back down and unsnaps your bra; you would have to remember to thank Jisoo for suggesting you get a clasped sports bra, because it’s never been helpful before but thank God you don’t have to try to peel yourself out of a regular one now.
Jungkook presses his lips against your nipple lightly, fingers ghosting over the other to stiffen it. “You didn’t answer me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to slide into that pretty pussy?” You whimper, doing your damndest to pull him far enough that you can grind against something that isn’t air, but he holds his body just far enough away that you can’t. He gives your nipple little kitten licks, his saliva making the air that much colder and your nipples that much harder.
“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” He mutters as he lets his free hand rest on your thigh, thumb swiping lazily over your hipbone. “Can you feel it? Because I can, even from here. You’re absolutely soaked, I could probably just slide right in. Do you want that, kitten? You want me to pound that little pussy of yours until you can’t walk straight?”
“Fuck, Kook, please,” You moan. Your hands slide along his body, looking for any kind of purchase and finding none. He’s enjoying himself too much, and you’re too desperate right now to do anything about it. “Please, Kook, please fuck me already. I swear to god, I’m gonna send your fucking Evangelion fanfic to your professors if you don’t get in me soon.”
“How do you even know about that?” He asks, momentarily stunned out of character. You give him a satisfied grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You lift your hips off the bed completely, letting them brush lightly against him. He stifles a moan and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, your entire body shivers with delight; he’s still that dumbass weeb but fuck, he looks like he’s going to absolutely wreck you.
“I’m gonna fuck this slut pussy of yours until you’re gushing, you hear me, kitten?” He says, kicking his sweats off. You don’t even get a chance to appreciate the sight of his dick before he’s lining up with your hole, the tip brushing against your clit in the process and making you moan. “I’m gonna fucking pound your pussy until it’s so fucking full you can’t remember your own name, let alone random shit about me. You’re gonna be begging for my cock, all day every day.”
“Fuck, Kook, yes, please, I want that,” You grind your hips up again and he moves, sliding inside of you in one easy movement. The stretch burns at first; he’s fucking huge, and he does curve, and it presses against every inch of you in such a phenomenal way that you never want him to stop. Your eyes must have rolled back in your head because when you open them, Jungkook has one hand stroking your cheek as the other supports his weight.
“Are you good?” He asks, soft and gentle. You nod, rolling your hips in a quick circle to let him know how good. He lets out another groan, soft and muffled, as if he’s containing himself. “You’ll let me know if you need me to stop?” You nod again. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so good for me.”
He starts to move then, dick dragging against your walls as he pulls back out slowly before slamming back in. Your moan echoes through the apartment, but all you hear is the soft call of your name from his lips as he repeats the motion. You raise your hips to meet his thrusts and it only takes a couple of minutes before you’re both panting. Your legs lock around his hips to bring him in deeper and he moans at the contact. He sits back on his knees and brings you up with him.
You’ve wanted to ride his dick for years, and it’s so much better than you ever thought. Every drag of his cock has you clenching, every thrust with this new angle has him hitting your g-spot and you’re seeing stars. He’s got one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady and the other on the back of your neck so he can bring you in close and kiss you deeply, whispering sweet nothings in your ear when he has to breathe.
The two of you move in tandem, hips gyrating against each other’s as you chase that high together. Having him inside of you feels like heaven and you never want it to stop. He starts to pull out and you shake your head, slamming your hips down onto his with renewed vigor.
“Gonna cum,” He huffs, and you press a kiss to his cheek.
“Good,” You tell him. His grip on you tightens and he slams into you harder. “Fucking cum inside me, Kook, please.” He moans, loud and unashamed, as he hits deeper inside of you with more force than you expect. You’re bouncing on his dick now, there’s no other word for it, and you fucking love it.
“Fuck, kitten, gonna fill you up so good,” He mutters. You nod, feeling the pressure inside of you tighten. “Gonna paint you with it gonna cover your pussy with my cum, want you to feel me inside you for days. Fuck, take it, kitten, take my cum inside, all of it, don’t let a single drop fall out.” He slams into you, again and again and again. Your throat is raw from the screams, you’re pretty sure he has scratch marks on his back, but you can’t bring yourself to care because, fuck, he feels so good.
He slams into your g-spot again, at the same time he kisses you deep and moves his hand to rub against your clit, and your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. You can’t even say anything, moans swallowed up by Jungkook’s mouth, but he knows by the way you clench and spasm around his cock, you can tell, because it only takes a few more shallow thrusts and he’s over that edge with you. You can feel his hot seed settling inside, spreading to fill you completely.
He lays you back on your bed, gentle, and slides out. His cum starts to seep out of you, you can feel it on your thighs, and when you open your eyes, he’s staring at the sight.
“Is this…something to be worried about?” He eventually asks. You shake your head and tap your bicep.
“Implant,” You tell him. “We’re good.” He nods and leans forward, and you feel his finger slide up your slit once more, gathering all of his cum before he pushes it back inside of you. When he’s satisfied that you’re as full as can be, he lays down next to you and tugs you into a lazy embrace. You take his hand and lick it clean, surprised at the fresh wave of arousal that hits despite your exhaustion. He smiles, cute and bunny-like, with the nose scrunch and everything, and you let yourself get lost in it.
He traces invisible shapes on your skin with his hands, all over your thighs and belly and arms and chest, and it’s an intimacy you’ve never had before. You watch him, eyes following each curve he makes, and trying to figure out what he’s drawing.
“It’s not Hatsune Miku,” He eventually says. You raise your brows at him and he grins. “I don’t have a Hatsune Miku body pillow.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. “Well, then, I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
“It’s Nami from One Piece,” He admits. You roll your eyes and grab a pillow to smack him.
“This is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.”
“I disagree.”
“What do you mean, you disagree?”
“I’ve got you, don’t I?”
The blush on your face gives you away even as you suppress the smile, but Jungkook lets you pretend, content to continue drawing on you with his fingertips. It’s the first time you’ve felt content and at peace in two years, and - you can’t believe you’re about to think this - you’re glad you put on that fucking cosplay.
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evolsinner · 3 years
Text
⊱┊31
tomorrow morning arrives.
i did my best attempt at covering up the bruises from yesterday night with some concealer and foundation... if my dad knew what that sick kid did to me, he wouldn’t have a healed bone in his body to rely on.
i stuff some essentials into a backpack and take a final glance around my room. don’t know if i’ll miss it, to be honest. i shut the door.
*ding.*
my phone lights up and i stop at the top of the stairs.
daddy🔐 good morning, love. how’d you sleep?
terrible.
me great xx
daddy🔐 you in any pain, babe?
heaps.
me none.
🎶my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours damn right it’s better than yours
i sigh and decline his call twice. if i pick up, i know i’ll burst into tears and i know he’ll get mad at theo all over again.
*ding.*
daddy🔐 this is just a moment, and we’re gonna get out of it, i promise. got you some oxycodone just in case. x
doesn’t feel like a ‘moment’ to me.
daddy🔐 eat your breakfast, take your time with your family. i’ll be waiting for you under the sycamore as usual. (:
i head downstairs to them sitting at the breakfast table. this will be difficult. i sit in my usual seat.
“hey, rosé,” maxi smiles with breadcrumbs sprinkled around his mouth.
“school’s coming close to an end,” dad picks up his cup, reading dailymail on his phone. “isn’t it?”
“yeah, yeah,” i reply, eating from a bowl of oats. “just a few more weeks.”
“excited?”
“since when did anyone like school?” i make a valid point.
he takes a sip of his coffee, chuckling, “class of 2018.”
“yeah, has a ring to it, aye?”
“sure does, mate.”
“hey, maxi,” i nudge him, “imma miss ya.”
“yeah, whatevs,” he downplays it, thinking i’m referring to when i’ll stay in the dorms for uni or something.
“oye!” i playfully punch him.
“you’ll come back, yeah? to visit?” the concern is quick to wash over his small pale face.
that was like a punch in the guts, an ache in my tear ducts and a beat skipped too quick. “of course, i’ll visit! i’ll need as many doses of ‘annoying you’ as i can.”
“pinky promise?” he looks up at me with these sad, sad eyes.
i was never one to break promises... “i um.. i promise that i’ll try my best!”
we lock pinkies.
“..y’know, rosé, i’d step on a lego for you..”
“no way? deadass?” i feel incredibly honoured.
he giggles adorably, “deadass.”
i pull him into myself one last time.
“stop, rosé! you’re messing up my hair again!”
“am i now?”
“quit it!”
“hun, c’mon now, don’t do that. you know how much he hates it.”
“yeah, soz, mum.”
-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-
“call me right away if you’re in trouble, alright?” in the teachers’ carpark, mr killian waits for me in some comfy clothing in his car. he texts away on his phone, making last~minute arrangements.
“yessir,” i shut the car door after myself.
people are already swarming inside the building which means that the day has started much quicker than i had anticipated. through all of the shouting, i could have sworn i heard theo’s voice echoing my name in the way my mum always says it and that’s just plain creepy!
wasting no time, i think to myself, what the fuck does larissa have first? c’mon, think! oh my god, yes, that’s right. she has history in block 326!
i slide open the door quietly and crouch to stop myself from blocking a boring BNW film the class is following, well, half of them dozing off. with the teacher too busy telling a student off in the back, i quickly sit down on the free desk next to larissa.
“what the hell are you doing in here?” she hisses. “don’t you have health or something?”
“i wanted to see you…” i reply.
"huh?”
“…because it may be the last time i’ll be seeing you ~ in a while, at least.”
“what?” her eyes pop wide open.
“i’m running away,” i inform her, my phone vibrates in my pocket. “with him.”
she rolls her eyes and heaves at the last two words. “rosé, do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?”
“i know, but~”
“but you need to think about this. you can’t just leave.”
“theo found out already so it’s not like we have a choice. and i could not stop thinking about this and, honestly, at this point, i don’t care about my brain anymore. the heart wants what it wants.”
“you’re being unreasonable. you’re just young and in love~”
“larissa,” i stare at her blatantly.
she sighs, her onyx eyes getting watery. “what the heck am i supposed to do without you? everyone here is fake as fuck. i need my best friend by my side so we can laugh at how dumb they all look.”
“awh,” i pout sadly, “stopp, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“ro?”
“yes?”
“i... i love you.”
“naw, la, i love you too.”
“no, i mean, like..”
my phone vibrates again and this time i look at it.
daddy🔐 we need to go. now.
“hey,” i slide off my seat, crouching next to her, “you’ll figure it out like you always do, okay? you’ll be fine without me,” and i hug her tightly. “promise.”
“but i lov..”
“you’ll be fine, i swear.”
“..there’s no changing your mind is there?”
“i’m sorry,” i cringe.
“and to think you were going through that ‘student x teacher wattpad’ phase. ugh, i’m dumb as fuck.”
“if it comes to it, just say you had no idea what was going on, say you didn’t know shit about sir and i, ight?”
“you know?” she pulls away. “i loathe him for stealing my bestie.”
i purse my lips apologetically.
“you better fucking call me every night! and if he ever tries to fucking hurt you~”
“yes, alright, alright! you’re my go~to. love you, best friend.” as i am about to get up, i remember something. “hey, one more thing. stay away from theo. just trust me, okay?”
she frowns, “why?”
i get an incoming call from mr killian and i quietly answer it.
“rosé, babe, you need to get out of there now,” he says with haste. “the security cameras outside my flat just alerted me. the police are at my place; they know.”
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cilldaracailin · 3 years
Text
Save Me
Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s,
Normal service has resumed on my blog and I am back to post the next part of this Robyn and Taron story.
Random side tangent though.... I bought this today!
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And I am ridiculously excited to get it and we won’t talk about how the shipping was nearly the same price as the product but I cannot wait to get my hands on it! It’s Care Bears! And original 80′s bears! Just living my childhood now!
Anywhoo, moving on. No major disclaimer needed for this part. Tiny bit emotional and a little angst but nothing else. Also I don’t know Taron.
Suze xx
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6
“Relief is a wonderful emotion, highly underrated. In fact, I prefer it to elation or joy. Relief lets the air out of the Tire of Pain.”
Once Robyn had tidied away the picnic blanket and she put the cups in the dishwasher in the kitchen, she took Taron’s hand and they walked back upstairs, the last to arrive, everyone sitting and chatting as Aiden got the next part of the course ready to go. They took the two seats at the end as before and Robyn’s nerves had settled until Aiden came to the part about bleeding and the different types of wounds associated with bleeding and when the trainer mentioned gun shots, he quickly stopped and immediately looked to her.
“It’s fine.” She assured him. “Go on.” Her hand squeezing Taron’s hard completely disagreed with what she actually thought and when his hand returned the tight grip, she knew he was feeling just as uncomfortable as she was.
Thankfully, Aiden didn’t linger on the subject of more severe wounds, concentrating on what they would most likely find in a creche. Ten minutes before four, he was handing out the pages with the quick quiz for the attendees to fill in, Robyn grinning when Taron asked for one too.
“I may as well. I have sat through it.”
Robyn finished the multichoice questionnaire quickly and looked to Taron as he hoovered over a and b on question seven.
“It’s c.” She whispered to him, seeing Taron grin and circle c.
“What is this one?” He asked pointing the question number two.
“A.”
“Thank you.”
Robyn looked to the left when she was elbowed by Emma sitting beside her. “Cheater.”
“He wasn’t here for the first part of the day.”
“Sure.” Emma smiled. “That’s your reason.”
With all the quizzes collected and corrected, everyone passed the refresher course and were then handed their certs, Aiden quickly hand drawing out one for Taron too, giving it to him with a grin and handshake.
“Thank you all for coming today and giving me your full attention. I know it is not an easy course to take but everyone gave their all and I very much appreciate that. Now enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
A babble of chatter filled the room as a happy mood of being free from weekend training circled the air. Robyn turned to Taron and gave him a tiny smile, suddenly feeling a whole new level of exhaustion fill her. Keeping it together during the training, she could finally fully breathe again but that shame that had been pushed to the side that morning when Taron appeared was quickly creeping back in.
“Stop it.” Taron could see her overthinking once again, now that she wasn’t distracted by the course and he leaned a little closer to her, knowing the increased volume of the conversation in the room would cover his words. “You are not to let yourself fall back into the guilt I know you are feeling. I am happy to be here with you. Too much has happened for us today to go backwards.”
She nodded in agreement and then acknowledged the staff who walked past them saying goodbye as they had some hurry in their step to leave the playroom and make the most of what was left of their weekend. Soon it was just her, Taron and Emma left in the room along with Aiden as he tidied up after the course. Once the room was somewhat empty, Robyn rolled her neck and letting go of Taron’s hand covered her mouth as she yawned.
“Why don’t you and Taron head back to yours.” Emma had noticed how neither Robyn or her male friend had even tried to make a move once the course finished and they still sat on the little chairs. “Been a long day for you both.”
“I will help you put the room back together.” Robyn stood up and went to pick up the chair she was sitting on but was stopped by Emma.
“The girls can do it on Monday. They will have lots of time before the children come in. Take Taron and go home.” Emma tilted her head a little, her eyebrows motioning towards Taron.
Robyn easily read the body language from Emma and knew she had to face the fate of Taron’s clear disappointment as he spoke to her outside earlier. “Yeah alright.” She turned to Taron. “Ready to go?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded. Desperate for some privacy and his chat with Robyn, he also really wanted a shower and some sleep. Getting to his feet, he looked to Emma. “Thank you.”
Emma smiled a little. “No need for you to thank me. It was nice to see you again.” She hoped Taron got the hidden meaning behind her words and as he stepped forward to give her a hug, she knew he did.
Once they said one last thank you and goodbye to Aiden, they headed downstairs and while Robyn collected her belongings from her locker, Taron waited in the office. He heard a clash and clang as she dropped something and when the curse came from her lips as she dropped her keys again, he stepped into the hallway, watching as she juggled her belongings, reaching forward to take her purse before she dropped it too.
“Robyn?” He caught her keys just as the slipped from her hands too and he was left holding all of her things except her coat.
“Shit sorry Taron.” Robyn walked past him into the office and dropped her coat on her chair. “Don’t know what is going on with me.” She took her things from him, putting everything into her handbag, except her keys, leaving them on the desk.
“I have an idea.” He said kindly and he stepped in to give her a hug. “Adrenaline is gone and that tiredness is really settling in. Thoughts of things to come.”
“I hate that I did this to you.” She spoke into his chest.
“You have done nothing to me except protect me but you just went around it the wrong way and here in your office is not the place for this conversation. Let’s go back to yours.” Taron placed a soft kiss on her head. “And I am driving.”
Robyn lifted her head from him. “You are driving?”
“Yes.” He picked up her keys from the desk. “I am not letting you drive home like this. I know I am tired but your tired is so different to mine. I will get us back to yours and don’t even try to argue with me over it.”
“Whatever you want rocketman.”
He smiled as she used his nickname. “Great. Let’s go.” He picked up his sunglasses and hat, putting both on before swinging his bag over his right shoulder.
With everything in her hands except her keys, Robyn pushed the door release button and let them out of the creche, making their way to her car. She smiled as Taron crossed her path, getting to the car first at the driver’s side, unlocking the car and throwing his bag on the back seat, Robyn slipping into the passenger side. Strange having someone else drive her car, it was something she never thought Taron would ever have to do but inside she was happy for him to take over the short drive to hers, trusting him completely to get them there safely. At the moment, he was definitely the perfect person to have behind the wheel. She watched him adjust the seat a little, before he pulled his seatbelt on and then started the car, Robyn turning the radio down. The drive was quick and quiet and as the car rolled down the cul de sac of where Robyn lived, they both gave Lizzie, her mam a wave as they passed by her childhood home, Lizzie outside talking to the neighbours. Robyn cringed at the thought of her mam seeing Taron in her car and driving it too only imagining the questioning she was going to get when she saw her mam next.
As Taron parked the car outside her house, making sure the hand break was pulled up properly, normally what was a happy feeling inside at having Taron in her home, knowing it was some decent rest for him, was replaced by an overanxious and troubled sickening feeling for Robyn. She waited for Taron to grab his bag and then once he had locked the car, let him unlock her front door and turn off the alarm.
Once inside, Taron pulled off his glasses and hat and left his bag on the island and stood in the kitchen waiting for Robyn to hang up her coat. She slowly made her way to stand beside him, knowing full well what was coming, her eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at Taron.
“So, I want you to go into the bathroom and run yourself a nice hot bubble bath.”
Robyn’s head shot up. “What?”
“You heard me.” Taron moved a little closer to her. “It has been a hard morning and you just need to re-energise but also heat up.”
“Taron…”
“What I want to say will take me about a minute and it needs to be said when we both have clearer heads and taken some time for pumped up emotions to calm down a bit and preferably in a cuddle in my corner of the couch. We need to make sure words are not exchanged when we are still stumbling through what happened today. I know right now, my mind set isn’t perfect and seeing you perform the CPR has made me understand why you didn’t want to tell me about the training but I still needed to know about it so what I want you to do, is go and run a nice bath, put some music on and then after I take a shower we can sit and work some niggly things out. Then we put one some crappy TV in your room and sleep.” Taron placed his hands on her cheeks. “If you don’t run it, I will and you know I don’t know how to make the bath salts melt properly.”
Robyn smiled at him under his hands. “I would love a bath.”
“Go. I will find something to amuse myself with around here.”
“I have no doubt about that. Thanks Taron.”
“Take as long as you need. Is cwtch on your couch?”
“Of course.” Robyn answered him.
“Think I might go and catch up with him.”
“Feel free to raid the fridge Taron.”
“Baked goods?” He asked his eyes opening wide.
“Maybe.” Robyn side stepped around him to her countertop beside the fridge and pulled a plate towards her with a round cake cover on top. Taron came to stand beside her and as she lifted the lid, heard the gasp of excitedness from him.
“You made the chocolate cupcakes with honeycomb!” He reached forward to swipe at the pale chocolate frosting on top of the cake, eating the light frosting from his finger. “And you made them without me.” His voice held a tinge of sadness.
“When I don’t sleep, I bake.” Robyn answered with a shrug. “I also didn’t know you were coming and I wanted to practise them before I made them with you. Just to be sure.”
“Tastes good.” Taron picked a piece of honeycomb and ate it. “Delicious. I know what I am going to do now when you are in the bathroom.”
“Cwtch can’t have chocolate.” Robyn looked to him. “Don’t feed him cupcakes.” His smile was beautiful and the first one all day where his dimples appeared. “I don’t want to wash him.”
“I promise, I will be the one eating the cupcakes.”
“Good. Make sure you explain to cwtch that he will get his corner back too.”
“My corner.” Taron corrected quickly. “Cwtch was kept in a drawer under your bed before I came along.”
His answer made Robyn smile and she loved being able to have the little jokes and silliness with him. It was upsetting that it had been missing for them all day. “I am going to go now though I have a feeling I am going to come out to you covered in chocolate, in a chocolate coma on the couch.”
Taron shook his head. “You won’t. Go and take some time to relax.”
With a nod, Robyn walked away from him in the kitchen and headed for the bathroom through the laundry room, closing both doors behind her. It hadn’t been an idea that crossed her mind herself but after Taron made the suggestion of taking a hot bath, it was all she could think of and at the bath, got the plug in and hot water flowing quickly, adding an over generous amount of coconut bubble bath into the water, white foamy bubbles swirling in the water straight away. The tropical scent floated through the bathroom and as the water continued to flow, steam rose from the deep bath. Robyn walked into her bedroom, frowning at the mess she had left it in, the bed unmade, clothes thrown across the place. Even though she hadn’t really spent much time in her bedroom over the last few nights, it was still a state. She picked up a few random items of clothing and rolling them into a ball, threw them into an empty cubby hole in her wardrobe, then routing out one of her matching pyjama sets, laid it over the silver radiator bars in the bathroom and turned it on.
The bath was filling nicely and she unzipped her work fleece, throwing it into the open laundry hamper, turning to the mirror and sighing. She looked wretched and it was going to take more than a cosy sleep with Taron to rid of her the dark circles under her eyes and a lot of hydrating masks to sooth dry skin. She bent down and opened the cabinet drawer under her sink and flicking through her face masks, pulled out a pink sheet mask, perfect for rehydrating tired skin. She turned her attention back to the bath, getting to the taps just in time before the water reached the point where it would slop over the side once she got in. Going to her bath bomb wicker basket on the window, she picked up one she knew would match the coconut scent of the bubble bath and taking it from the paper packaging, threw it into the water, hearing it fizz. Once stripped and her clothes in the hamper, she eased herself into the water, wincing a little at the heat but as her body got used to the temperature of the scalding water it was glorious. Lifting her hand from the water, she pressed the button to start the bubble jets and left them on an easy sprinkle setting and then opened the face mask, placing the moisture filled sheet on her face and then lay her head back.
“Alexa, play Robyn’s piano favourites.” She called out into the bathroom, immediately the electronic device granting her wish. “Alex set an alarm for twenty minutes.” Alarm set and music on, Robyn closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind, to stop herself from thinking about everything she could. To forget how she had betrayed Taron’s trust and how she had a lot of grovelling to do for him which also involved as many head massages as he would like.
Taron had already eaten two cupcakes and was on his third as he stood in front of the piano, admiring all of Robyn’s framed pictures, particularly the ones of him and her at all of his red carpet appearances that she had accompanied him to. By far his favourite was the one Stella had taken of them in the hotel room and it was clearly Robyn’s favourite too as it took pride of place among all the photos of her family and friends. He was happy to have a little walk around, saying hello to her fish, looking out into her garden, smiling at the memory of sitting outside last year eating breakfast. The couch was calling to him but he was waiting to sit down because he knew once he sank into the comfiness of her corner couch, it wouldn’t be long before he had a nap and he wanted to stay awake until he just got his point across to Robyn that from today, things would have to change between them.
Eating the honeycomb from the cupcake, Taron had spent a good ten minutes wandering around her living area before he had to give in to some of the weariness he was feeling and sat down on the couch, nowhere near the corner but closer to the glass doors. He had just got settled when there was a knock on the front door.
“Robyn?”
Taron’s head turned to see Lizzie walking in, her face in slight surprise at seeing him sitting on the couch.
“Well, hey Taron. I thought it was you I saw in Robyn’s car. Driving it too I believe.” She closed the door and walked in towards the couch. “I didn’t know you were coming for a visit this weekend.”
“Well, it was a last-minute trip.” Taron stood up. “Just quick one.” He walked around the couch to greet Robyn’s mam with a light hug. “A real quick one.”
“Robyn normally tells me when you are coming over. It has been a while.”
“Just had a last-minute free day.” Taron shrugged. “Easier to get to Kilcreen now that I am in Belfast filming.”
“Now that she did mention.” Lizzie said with a small smile.
“It’s been busy but great being closer. No planes.” Taron tried to sound as upbeat as he could. “Always a plus.”
Lizzie saw Taron fold his arms over himself, the clear dark circles under his eyes and how he was faltering on his feet. “So, let me guess. My wonderfully stubborn daughter decided it would be in hers and yours best interest not to tell you about the first aid training she had this morning and but someone rang you to tell you and my first guess would be Claire but I am sure it was Emma and you came to Kilcreen to stand by Robyn as once again she insisted on taking on everything herself and it has been a horrible morning for both of you where neither of you got any sleep last night and Robyn is struggling once more with the frightening things that happened to you and her last year and you poor thing are here to help her but suffering through it just as much as she is.”
Taron’s mouth dropped open a small bit but his eyes closed as he nodded his head.
“I swear that daughter of mine. At times like these she is her father’s daughter. Not related to me at all. Come and sit with me.” Lizzie placed a gentle hand on Taron’s shoulder and they walked to the seats at the breakfast bar. “Sometimes I wonder if a sibling would have been good for her. She always had her cousins around, they only live next door but she is so stubbornly independent that maybe having a brother or a sister would have just opened her up more to the idea of sharing feelings and then since Keith…” Lizzie stopped to look at Taron who was avoiding her eyes. “Well, that fucker changed her into this broken scared girl and unfortunately since then she has always been out to close into herself. It wasn’t until she met you that I noticed a change in her but it seems she has been back to her old ways.” Lizzie reached for Taron’s hands. “I am so sorry she is making your life a little troublesome. Her heart is definitely in the right place just her mindset still needs to be shifted.”
Taron gave her another small smile. “She is not troublesome at all. In fact, she is wonderful.” The words came from his lips before he could stop them and knew his tired face blushed. “What I mean is…”
“I knew I liked you the first time I met you in her garden.” Lizzie smiled at him. “But the way she has treated you this weekend is not right.”
“She was under a lot of stress this morning.”
“Still no excuse for what she did Taron. Considering how close you two have gotten and how much she loves you, it really was very unfair on you though. She didn’t stop to think how her pig-headedness would affect you and not even a second thought to giving you a simple phone call. You came such a way for her and I am sure it has put you out some.”
“Not at all. I figured something out with work.” Taron insisted.
“I am sorry Taron.”
“You don’t have to apologise for Robyn. I actually admire her stubbornness; how independent and strong she is. Granted at times, she really pushes herself too far and honestly, I was hurt by what she did today.” Taron looked to Lizzie, afraid he was going to offend her. “I know why she did it and I am not mad at her.” He quickly said. “But I just need her to see that I am here for her, especially when it comes to things that involve me, like the CPR. I want to be there for her. She has done so much for me.”
“You sure you a man?” Lizzie asked with a chuckle.
Taron returned the chuckle. “Last time I checked, yes.”
“You have a good heart Taron.”
“Blame my mother.”
“Now Taron, I have spoken to your mother and she is a lovely woman.”
Taron nodded. “The best. Lizzie, I don’t want you to be mad at Robyn either. She is already feeling shit about not telling me and I am going to talk to her about what she did but honestly, I think something may have changed for her today. I saw a different Robyn earlier, one that finally seemed to understand just how much she was actually hurting herself more than anything.”
“But she is hurting you too and she can’t do that Taron. I can’t imagine today was any way easy on you too. Had to be hard watching the training.”
“It wasn’t nice.” He answered. “I saw the CCTV footage, I know what she did but it was so close to me in the creche and so very real and even though I am tired and need to sleep, I am sure I will have a few unpleasant images in my head for a while, might find it hard to drift off.”
“And get back to work.”
“Actually, they might help with my character.”
“It was still something you could have been forewarned about, something you could have talked through together rather than just being thrown into it.”
“Robyn threw herself on me to save me all those months ago, it was the least I could have done for her and to be honest, I do think doing the CPR for Robyn and for me, was good for us. Hopefully the start of the emotional healing we both need.”
“I hope so Taron because I have seen Robyn broken before and I can’t bear to watch her go through it again.”
“You already told me how strong she is and she is a serious survivor Lizzie and like I said, there was a little bit of a change and realisation after the CPR. I think a little light bulb might have gone off for her.”
Lizzie was so thankful for the patient man sitting beside her. “I really hope so but a lot of that is down to you Taron. You are the one perfect thing going for her at the moment and I really don’t want that to change but if she keeps blocking you out, I am worried that it…”
“It won’t.” Taron interrupted her quickly. “I am not going anywhere. Believe me, I am too involved now to go anywhere plus if she keeps baking me chocolate cupcakes, I can’t see a way out.” He joked.
Lizzie placed her hands on Taron’s face, finally making him look at her properly. “You have given her so much, already helped her more than I can explain but I don’t want her treating you like this because you deserve the same love you give her in abundance and believe me Taron, she does love you but as you also know, has a lot of demons to conquer.” She leaned into gently kiss his forehead, Taron smiling as it was the same delicate gesture Robyn always gave to him. “Thank you for being so kind to her, for treating her right.”
Taron placed his hands on Lizzies. “Your daughter did something for me that I will never be able to repay her for.”
“You have no idea how much you have done for her already Taron.” Lizzie took her hands from his face. “She still hasn’t stopped talking about that tent you made for her and that bracelet hasn’t left her wrist.” She was so glad to see a smile fill his face. “And I cannot even begin to explain to you how much her confidence has grown, how those little weekend trips to see you just excite her. It’s new and it’s wonderful and I just need to thank you for giving her back her spark, for helping her get it back.” She moved to give him a hug. “And don’t be afraid to give her a little bit of hell for what she did.”
“Lizzie…” Taron tried to break the hug but Robyn’s mam hugged him tighter.
“She listens to you Taron and I honestly think, if it comes from you, it means so much more than coming from me or her dad.  I know how much she loves you and of everyone in her life at the moment, you are the one person she will not want to disappoint.”
“Just a little word.” He agreed. “A small one. She already knows.”
“I am sure she does Taron but make sure she knows. I don’t want her to lose you.”
This time it was Taron who hugged Lizzie tighter. “She won’t. I am sorry to say but she is kind of stuck with me and hopefully for a very long time.”
“I think her dad and I might just be ok with that.”
Taron laughed. “My mam is pretty chuffed too.”
“Someday we are going to have meet your family.”
“I very much look forward to that day.”
Their heads turned as they heard the music in the bathroom stop.
“Guess that is my cue to go. I don’t want her to know I was here.”
“I won’t say a word.” Taron agreed. “Thanks Lizzie. I needed a little pick me up.”
“I can only imagine but I think Robyn might be able to help with the rest.” Lizzie stood up and walked around the breakfast bar, stopping to look to Taron. “Ask her for a head massage. I have heard you like those.” Lizzie left him with a little wink and wide smile, another deep red blush filling Taron’s face as she left.
Lizzie had only left when the bedroom door opened and Robyn walked out, looking more refreshed and slightly happier in herself, wearing the matching white ski pyjamas he had found in her old bedroom when he had snooped through her shelves.
Robyn was so glad she had set the alarm because she had found herself dozing and the jingle woke her up, with a little splash, the water now luke warm, a lot of the frothy bubbles gone. Carefully getting out of the bath, she hopped into the shower to wash the glitter residue off from the bath bomb but also to wash her hair. Slipping into her warmed pyjama’s she was thrilled to have washed the day off, glad it was mostly done with and as she sat drying her hair, felt very apprehensive about what Taron had to say. Disappointing him was a suffering she didn’t want to have to go through again but knew he needed to have his say and was going to let him, hoping she could keep herself together to listen because seeing Taron in pain was her worst fear.
When she walked out to her living area, he was swinging around on one her breakfast bar stools. She walked over to the bar, smiling as he continued to twirl around.
“Having fun?”
“Lots.” He answered spinning once more. “Have a nice bath?”
“It was perfect.”
“Feeling warmer?”
“Much.”
“Wearing your Eddie pj’s?”
“Not my Eddie pj’s but yes.”
“No shorts?”
“Not for the moment.” Robyn walked around the breakfast bar to stand beside him. “The bathroom is all yours.” She looked over his shoulder to the plates with the cupcakes, noticing some missing. “Your tummy happy too?”
“Very.” He agreed with a grin. “They were yummy.” He got down off the stool. “I am going to go and shower.”
“Take as long as you want. I know you love that rainfall shower or I could run you a bath if you would like.”
“Thank you but no. I will stick to a shower.” He walked to the island and picked up his bag. “I may have to borrow a few things in your bathroom. I am not too sure what I packed in here this morning.”
“You know you can use whatever you want.”
Taron nodded and started to walk away from her but turned back. “I like your pictures. On your piano.”
“Me too.” She answered him. “Go and shower.”
He nodded at her and walked into her bedroom, dropping his bag on the bed. He pulled his jumper off and dropped it beside his bag, his shirt landing on the duvet next. He zipped open his bag, rummaging inside and sighed as he realised what he had packed. One clean pair of boxers and some sweat pants. Thrown at the bottom of his bag was a can of deodorant and a toothbrush. It seemed that packing in a rush and haze of disorientated worry and annoyance had not worked in his favour and he realised he was going to need to borrow more than a few things. Walking into the bathroom, he opened his belt as he went, inhaling the gorgeous feminine scent left in the neatly organised wash room from Robyn and her bath. He turned on the shower and stripped down, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. He was going to have to ask Robyn would she mind if he put a wash on if he was going to have any clean clothes for tomorrow.
The shower was definitely needed and more beneficial than a bath and that powerful rainfall shower just pounded on tired muscles. He quickly washed his hair, used Robyn’s lime shower gel and as he stepped out of the shower, saw the towel waiting on the heated radiator for him, Robyn still looking out for him in the smallest of ways. It was so warm on his chilly skin and once dried he put on the one pair of boxers he brought with him and the grey sweat pants. He picked up the black jumper and his shirt from the bed and headed back into the bathroom to pick up the clothes he had left on the floor and walked into the laundry room and put them in the empty laundry hamper. He grabbed a fresh towel from the shelf and was towel drying his hair as he walked back into the living room, Robyn standing in the kitchen at the hob at the counter.
“Could I borrow a t-shirt?” He asked walking over to her. “I seemed to have left everything behind in Belfast.”
While Taron showered, Robyn whisked up some eggs, cooking them slowly in a saucepan and had some bread in the toaster waiting to be pushed down. She felt a little hungry and knowing how many cupcakes Taron already had, figured he would like some food. She turned when she heard his voice, her heart fluttering as he walked towards her in just his comfy sweatpants.
“My t-shirt?” She asked him.
“Technically one of mine but yes one of yours but as I gave it to you it will fit me and perhaps, I could borrow it for tonight? Or the hoodie?”
“Sure of course. You stir the eggs and I will get it.”
“Eggs?” He asked coming to stand beside her, taking the blue spatula from her hands.
“I thought you might have been hungry.”
“A little.”
“Eggs ok? I can make you a sandwich.” Robyn quickly said, worried her simply choice of food wasn’t the right choice for him.
“Eggs are perfect.” Taron nodded as he kept stirring. “No need for sandwich. I will happily eat some eggs and toast, maybe a cup of tea.”
Robyn gave him a little smile. “Let me go and get the t-shirt for you. You watch the eggs.” She held her hand out for the towel he was using to dry his hair and he handed it to her. She then walked away from him and through the laundry room, dropping the towel into the laundry basket, seeing his clothes already in there, making a mental note to pop a wash on for him when they were finished talking. She made her way in through the steamy bathroom and to her wardrobe. Reaching into the cubby hole that held her pyjama tops, she found Taron’s blue t-shirt he had given her mixed in with her other band t-shirts. She carried it back out to the kitchen. “Here ya go.”
“Thank you.” Taron passed the spatula back to her and fluffed the folded blue material out, slipping into it, inhaling the wonderful fresh scent of fabric softener as he pulled his head through. “I literally brought four things with me.”
“Bit of rush to pack this morning then.” She asked him as he smoothed down his t-shirt over his chest.
“Yeah and in a very sleepy haze.” Taron leaned his left hip against the counter.
Robyn pressed the toast down and handed Taron the spatula so he could continue to stir their eggs. “I promise you will sleep well tonight.” She moved to the kettle and lifting it from its perch, filled it at the sink, then clicking it back in place and switching it on.
“As I always do in your bed. Any chance I could put on a wash too?”
“Of course Taron. I saw your stuff in the hamper. You know you don’t have to ask.”
“Great. Thank you.” He let her take over the stirring of the eggs.
“Want me to help you?”
“No thanks. I got it. Want me to put your stuff on too?”
“Please.” She called back to him and he walked to the hamper in the bathroom and gathered up her clothes. Once at the machine, he pushed all of her bits in, his clothes after. He then added the powder and fabric softener, getting the machine going. Robyn had shown him how to use her washing machine before and he was a whizz at it now and once he was sure it was whirling round, made his way back out to Robyn in her kitchen.
“Want some help?” He asked coming to stand beside her again.
“Can you do the toast?”
“Of course.”
It took them five minutes to dish up two plates of hot scrambled eggs and triangles of buttered toast, with a pot of tea for Taron and they sat together at the breakfast bar, both eating in silence, both finishing off all the food in front of them. Robyn wasn’t surprised to see that Taron had cleaned his plate and finished most of the tea in the teapot but more so that she had eaten everything as well. It was the most food she had eaten in two days but now that the food was gone and they moved to wash up, she could feel the guilt and shame filter back into her as she dried the last fork, putting it in its place in the cutlery drawer. She knew Taron needed to have his say, that he definitely deserved to defend himself, but she hated that he had to do it and really wasn’t looking forward to see that horrible sadness in his beautiful eyes again.
As Taron dried his hands, he could see a change in Robyn and that light heartedness that filled the room earlier was gone and they hadn’t spoken a word to each other in the last twenty minutes which wasn’t unusual for them. They had sat in silence together on many occasions but it was so obvious Robyn was once again back in her head and torturing herself.
“Come and sit with me.” He said gently, taking her hand with his left, dropping the tea towel on the sink. He led her to the couch but avoided sitting in the corner, instead sitting near the edge guiding her past him so she sat his right. “Robyn…”
“Taron you don’t…”
“Just let me say one thing.”
“No Taron.” Robyn placed her hand over his mouth, stopping him from talking. “Just no.” She took her hand away from him and waited a few seconds to see if he was going to interrupt her again. When he didn’t, she continued speaking, turning around to face him. “You don’t have to explain it to me and honestly I don’t think I can listen to you tell me again that my selfish actions have hurt you because that is the one thing I never ever want to hear you say again or for me to ever do to you again.” Robyn took a quick breath, trying to keep ready to fall tears at bay. Knowing that she had hurt him, that he admitted to her that she had done so, was something she was never going to forget so easily. “I know you know I am sorry but there shouldn’t have been something for me to be sorry for. It was so easy for me to slip back into my old ways, when I promised you two weeks ago that I wouldn’t do that anymore but old habits are hard to let go of but let me tell you something, I never ever want to see the hurt in your eyes or in your voice again.” Robyn reached for his hands and cupped his two warm hands between hers. “It is not an excuse for what happened but I am still getting used to having someone like you who isn’t my family or friends and you probably figured I don’t tell them everything either.”
“Robyn…” Taron started but stopped when Robyn shook her head at him.
“I just need to you to understand how disappointed I am with myself for hurting you so. I was so caught up in my own misery that I never thought how you needed to know about the training, about how it would affect you too and that is wrong Taron. It is wrong for me to just cut you out, to be so unaware of your feelings and own emotions from the CPR and of all the people around me, you are one I don’t ever want to treat like that.” Robyn rubbed his hands with her two thumbs. “You have been nothing but kind to me and you only deserve to be treated with the same respect you give me and I know my words are probably shit at the moment but I give you my word, when I say I will tell you everything and share with you all these important things you need to know and let me start with assuring you that I have not had one nightmare since London and that’s why you haven’t had a late-night phone call from me. I wasn’t lying when I said it was daily visions but I think now they just might be gone. Before the CPR it was all I could see but once we finished, they vanished. I think it was the anxiety attached to the CPR and when that was done, a serious weight was lifted from my shoulders.” Robyn gave his hands a light squeeze. “But if they come back, I will tell you.” She let go of his hands and sat back on the couch, running her hands through her hair, looking to him, trying to put as much sincerity into her words that she could manage without crumbling on the couch in pity. “I swear Taron, I value and regard you in the highest esteem and I will never forgive myself for how I have behaved and treated you, being silent and not sharing with you and if you want to rant at me some more, I know I deserve it but Jesus Taron I will never ever let you down again or have you leaving work to come and talk to me because I know how important your work is to you and how much this movie means to you and you shouldn’t have to leave to come and chastise me for acting like a child and…”
Robyn found her words cut off as she was pulled into a tight hug, Taron’s two strong arms wrapped around her back tight as he closed the gap between them, turning to face her so he could hug her hard. She melted into him and slid her face in his neck, breathing in that wonderful fresh scent from his clean skin and hair, locking her arms around his back too.
Taron had watched Robyn go into one of her endless speeches and instead of her usual words of encouragement, she was straight into another apology to him and he could see her doing her very best to hold her tears in and keep her voice steady, feeling how hard she was squeezing is hands, not even noticing she was doing so. He knew she was sorry and as he had said to her mam earlier, could see the change in her and had a feeling that finally something had clicked with Robyn and her mindset had finally shifted to where she knew she could and must trust him and he wouldn’t hurt her in return so it was very easy for him to hug her, ending her apology and he hoped the firmness of the hug was enough for her to realise that all was definitely forgiven.
“No more tears, no more apologies.” He said into her shoulder. “I know.”
“Taron, if you…” Robyn began but he stopped her by tightening the hug.
“You have just said everything I wanted to say to you so I am not going to repeat it. It’s been a hard day for both of us and now we put it behind us and move forward and if we really want to go into people leaving work to chastise the other, don’t forgot you skipped a day’s work to come to New York to me. We are even and you and me have been through way too much to let today change us. You know I forgive you and you know you don’t have to apologise any more to me.”
“But Taron we can’t just leave it like this. I hurt you so much.”
“You did and you know this. I am not made of steel and I can feel just as much as you can and I know you didn’t mean too. It was the pressure of the course and taking it all on yourself and not leaning on others for support, leaning on me but I trust that from now on, you will talk to me. I am only a phone call away and a two-hour drive now too and Robyn I really think we are quits on the who has ever made the other person feel worse. Let’s not forget Paris either. Both of us have made mistakes but we are going to move on. I know you are sorry chicken. I am always here for you. That is never going to change. Please just don’t shut me out again.”
Robyn moved her left in circles around his back, while her right trailed up into his hair. “I won’t. I am…”
“Shh…” Taron soothed gently. “I know and it’s done. I don’t want to hear any more talk about it. Been a shit day for both of us and now we are definitely putting it behind us and moving on.” He moved his head to give her cheek a little kiss.
Robyn felt her whole body finally relax and she smiled at his little kiss. “Thank you.”
“Just make me more chocolate cupcakes.”
They both laughed, that light mood returning.
“I will make you whatever you want and hand deliver it every evening to your set if it is what you want.”
Taron moved away from her and back into his place on the couch. “Is that a promise?” He asked with a wide grin.
“Whatever you want rocketman.”
“Cookies.” Taron answered before she even finished speaking. “White chocolate chip cookies.”
Robyn laughed again. “Done.” She sat back into the couch, feeling Taron move closer to her so their shoulders were touching. “I will make some for you to bring back with you.” She turned her head as she saw him nodded happily in agreement to the cookies. The tough conversation wasn’t as tough as she thought it was going to be and all she knew was that she had never met a man like Taron before who was so willing to accept her flaws and give her the best hugs she had ever had.
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hautetae · 3 years
Text
summer holiday update
as i have made it very clear, i am having a very wavy summer- lots and lots has been happening both good and bad
two weeks ago was the euro finals.
england vs italy
1-1
penalty shoot.
italy wins
and that's when i felt shitty as ever
u see i would never have thought i would become such a football fanatic, i cannot lie i am very much embarrassed i have had such an emotional attachment to the football and even the fucking players
i kid u not i was in a depresso mood after we lost, i had loved the team so much it may as well have been the most perfect english team we had
i wanted england to have the opportunity to prove other countries wrong that we were as good as them, maybe stretch to say we were the next germany and portugal
and then luck came in
it was a fucking dirty match i hated how we ended the match on a penalty
anyways good for italy for winning, but on another note i am proud of my players they have done so well💕
saka,sancho and rashford u guys did your very best, i may have been angry at rashford because it was open goal, but he didn't deserve the hate whatsoever
i guess we close the chapter on football now,but i'll see hopefully most of the boys in the worldcup next year xx
that was sunday-let's go through my week
acc before, i went to E's house for a silent disco and i loved it very much- sucked that i was on my period :(( and stained my pants but thank the fuck lord cold water is the solution to stains, btw U cringes me at times, she legit wanna be drunk all the time- girl who's hurting u that bad
she's now away and i'm sad i didn't meet up with her before hand, she's most deffo annoyed at me for that but i hope to owe it up to her
i've also started a new show: sex and the city!!!
ok so i binged watched 90% of s1 in one day because theepisodess are like 20 mins long- how blooming short
but now i'm on a slow and i don't have a 🍀feel🍀 to watch it
i might watch it tonight
i met up with A,my childhood bestfriend who's stuck with me thanks to our mums being besties- isn't that so sweet
we met up at her house and I met J, she's cool and i liked her- i guess a part of me wished i was like her but only slightly, i'm mine own bitch and thats on periodt.
i'm going to meet her sometime this week hopefully but i have quite a bit going on this week
and then me and S went to brick lane and lemme tell u that was the bestt shopping trip ever, liek i have bought so much but that was the best one i had gone to in my opinion becuse of the thinsg i got.
i found a custo barcelona top for £20 and i just fell in love with it, it's funky but i just have such nice vibes with it (i'm listening to kali uchis and it just adds to this sweet spanish summer i want)
and then i got this takashi murakami cherry blossom louis vuitton bag
woooo what a mouthful BUT TRUSTT it is the best thing i have bought and thats on period
the last thing i have was uhm well ✨free✨- juicy couture pants
me and S are matching in the drippiest thing ever isn't that so cool
best day ever
i honestly felt like carrie bradshaw, with my obsession with clothes and just acting rich and fancy and boujee, when really i am broke as fuck ahhhhh
its now a fucking heatwake and im going to melt why are england houses so ARGHHHH- at least i have wooden floors and rn im in the coolest room in my house
so i guess i have spoken about all the positives in my summer, but my life just doesnt become anymore perfect with problems
.especially family ones
my dad this summer is just so irritating his mind is just not right
my gran has covid,and just yesterday night she went into icu
with all due sympathy and prayers, i don't feel anything for her mainly because i had such a distant relationship with her howeveri ever wish for anyone to pass away
that of course has mentallyt captrivated my dad- and when i sayhe has become mad he is madd
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scottfuckingreed · 4 years
Text
Better with you - Montgomery De La Cruz
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ANONYMOUS SAID: ‘I have an idea for a possible future Monty story. I don’t know how to say it without it coming out the wrong way so I’m just gonna go ahead anyway lol, something where the reader cheats on her boyfriend with Monty and they have their own little thing on the side because Monty just makes her feel so good like not just in a sexual way but in other ways too. Kind of like how Jess loves Alex, but it’ll never compare to Justin’
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Warnings!: quite a bit of swearing and those sexual things (also Bryce is mentioned but not in much detail)
“Hey!” Y/BF/N says as his arms wrap themselves around me and kisses me on the forehead. “How’s it going?” I somewhat force a smile up to him. It’s not that I’m not happy to see him, it’s just hard to smile in such a shit place. School of course. “Pretty good actually. I just finished some things up with Tyler. It’s finally getting somewhere.” Y/BF/N is friends does photography with him, so they’re pretty much best friends. Which is nice - I love Tyler - but drama seams to follow Tyler. So it follows Y/BF/N. And so it passes me too. “You have a free period next, right?” I nod at his question. “Lucky! I’ll meet you in our usual spot afterwards?” A quick peck lands on my lips, and then he’s suddenly walking away.
I sit in the cafeteria. It’s usually overcrowded and too loud, but there’s only a handful of people not in class right now. Which is a relief. Starting to peel my orange, I glance up to notice a certain ‘Montgomery’ walking my way. “Y/N! Fancy seeing you here,” he places himself on the opposite side of the table. I shake my head, a smile slowly cracking. “Wow Cruz, you say that as if you don’t sit your ass in that seats pretty much daily at this time,” his eyebrows raise. “Alright Y/N. I just wanted to say hi to my best friend jeez.” I shove a segment in my mouth, pushing it to the side of my mouth for a second. “Aren’t you meant to be in some Literatue class or something right now?” His eyes light up. Sometimes I think I should just not say anything to Monty, but I like Monty. “See, I knew you cared-” he pauses, grabbing the other half of my orange from the table. “And I ain’t gonna use it, so what’s the point?” I look at him in somewhat amazement as he casually eats my food. “I mean, fair enough,” I shrug. I should be used to this. This has happened almost every day for a few months now. Why? I don’t know. It just did one day, and then it was almost like a routine. “Thanks for that, I’ll see you later?” I nod at him, although I know I shouldn’t.
“Are we hanging out later?” I ask my boyfriend. “Sorry Y/N, my mum needs me,” I nod slightly. Internally sighing, the answer is everything I expected. Don’t get me wrong, I love him for being close to his family, but I get that response every time I ask. We’ve had sex twice. You may think, what’s wrong with that? We’ve been dating for a year. It’s fine though. I can’t exactly say ‘leave your mum’ can I? Unfortunately not.
Instead I go to Jessica’s. The fact that Y/BF/N doesn’t make *that much* of an effort does kinda get me down, and Jess always knows how to snap me out of those thoughts. So I can’t help but get excited as I pull up to her house. Hardly parking, I see her body rush towards my car and throw herself into the passenger’s seat. “Perfect timing, let go!” She smiles way too massively at me. “Where are we going?” I laugh nervously. “Bryce is having a small get together.” I can guarantee it won’t be a ‘small get together’. Bryce does parties, and they’re always PARTIES. “I thought-“ “Nah, now drive girl!”
We walk in, and it’s exactly what I expected. This ‘small get together’ is at least 50 people. “Welcome ladies!” Scott smiles and runs up to us with a red cup in each hand. My automatic reaction to this gesture is to smell the cup, and let’s just say I didn’t have to get my nose too close to smell the thickness of the alcohol. “Jesus, what’s in this?” I ask, making Jess laugh. “I’m not sure. Monty made it,” he shrugs and gets lost in a crowd of people. “Drink up Y/N,” Jess taps the bottom of my cup. “I’m driving, and I can’t image how many units is in this one cup.” Her eyes roll. “Suit yourself, I’m finding Justin!” I doubt I’ll see Jess again tonight.
Drinking this - whatever he wants to call it - is a bad idea for me, so I go into the kitchen and find myself a drink. Just as I sip my water, I get a text.
Hey! Xx - Y/BF/N ❤️
I almost immediately respond.
Are you able to get away?x - Y/N
I see those 3 dots pop up, meaning he’s typing. Just as I thought I could escape, his response was exactly what I didn’t need to hear.
Sorry Y/N, it’s a bit late. I’ll call you in a bit though?xx - Y/BF/N ❤️
‘Call me in a bit’? Is he taking the piss? Damn I feel special. ITS ALSO 8:30 LIKE WHAT? I roll my eyes, which make them land on the back of Monty’s head. I shake my head as his eyes meet mine, and can’t help but smile. “Montgomery! I heard you’ve supplied the drinks tonight,” he shrugs and raises his eyes with a beaming smile. “You know me Y/N, it’s nice right?” As I press my lips together, his face forms a shocked expression. “I’m offended, have a sip,” he passes me his drink. I know I shouldn’t drink tonight, but honestly I just wanna have a some fun. My hand wraps the cup - leading Monty to nod at me with a devilish grin. It’s hard to even put the drink in my mouth with the stench, but I chug it anyway. “Shit,” he laughs ‘impressed’. “Fuck that’s so gross,” I cover my mouth with my hand trying not to urge. “I’ll take another one,” I add.
After the first cup, I was already tipsy. And that shit was like half full. So after my next full cup I was pretty drunk already. Which is exactly what I needed. “I thought it was gross?” He laughs as he notices me going through my fresh cup quite fast. I respond with a shrug. “It’s growing on me,” I go to grab him on the shoulder, but I miss, making me stumble forwards. Two hands latch on under my forearm steadying me upright. “Shit,” his chuckle is quite cute- NO. I don’t mean that. I don’t know why that just popped into my head. My finger begin to stroke his arms. That needs to stop. Apart from the music and the screaming and the ‘fun’ going on around us, it was silent. It was the first time I looked into his eyes for more than a quick glance. And unfortunately I’ve just finished another cup of strong ass liquor. “I feel like I wanna kiss you,” I blurt out, my hands immediately cover my mouth. Nothing else can slip out. “Sorry,” I giggle. “I’m just lonely,” oh my god Y/N SHUT UP! “You’re not lonely Y/N, you have a boyfriend.” My mind and mouth start working faster. “Boyfriend? Y/BF/N doesn’t even fucking touch me- shit,” I hush myself.
Next thing I know is I’m being guided out of Bryce’s house. “I’ll take you home,” he breathes. I frown at him. “Driving drunk is dangerous Montgomery don’t you know this.” The smile on his face appears so faintly, and it’s unreadable. Especially in my current state. “You pinched my drink. Did you see me have another one?” No. No I didn’t. Why didn’t he? “Take my car then, and I can’t go home.”
We get to Monty’s, but I don’t realise where I am until I’m inside. “This isn’t what I meant...” I huff. He throws off his Liberty jacket and kicks his shoes in a corner. “You can sleep in my bed,” he hooks his arm under mine to walk me to the bedroom. Hang on. “I have a boyfriend Monty, so no sex,” my hand goes on his chest as a warning. “I’ll try not to fuck you.” At this time, that was good enough for me. It shouldn’t be. Ever. “I appreciate that,” I fall into his bed - which was automatically the comfiest bed I’ve ever laid on. Suddenly my shoes are off and I’m pretty much tucked in. “It’s just hit me,” I sit up too fast, making my head spin. “I don’t know what’s gone on in this bed,” my stomach starts to turn. “You can only imagine,” he shrugs. And suddenly I’m offended? Just go to sleep Y/N.
The next morning
I wake up fully aware of what went on last night, and frankly embarrassed. Not embarrassed that I flirted with Monty. Not even that I’ve ended up at his place in his bed. I just feel guilty. Like I cheated? But I know I didn’t. I shouldn’t of done what I did, but I didn’t do anything wrong. Did I? I walk out of the bedroom, and notice Monty in the kitchen boiling the kettle. “Good morning, coffee?” I shake my head at him with a smile. “Thank you, for last night by the way. My parents would’ve killed me,” I let out a small laugh before tying my hair up in a ponytail with a spare hairband on my wrist. Glancing up to the clock on the wall, I sigh massively. “Shit, I should probably get home. I can drop you to Bryce’s to get your car if you’d like?” I offer. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later.”
Getting myself to school on time was no problem, but as soon as I entered the building it felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. Until I see him. “Hey! How was your night?” Y/BF/N kisses my forehead, not my lips. “It was alright, I drank a little too much to be honest,” we begin walking down the corridor. As cringe as it sounds, all I wanted was him to hold my hand. Is it that hard? Really? “I bet your parents flipped then,” he chuckles. This is it. I have no reason to lie - really. I didn’t do anything wrong. But it sounds wrong. “Actually, I-“ I pause. “I stayed at Jess’ so they don’t know,” I watch as he nods. His facial expression immediately looks relieved. “Jess told me, I just wanted to make sure.” My heart stops at his response. What the fuck does that mean? He asked Jess before asking me? That’s not right? Yet I say nothing... because I can’t find a reason to.
It’s that time again. That one free period. I’m expecting Monty at any moment now. I hate to say it but I quite look forward to it. It’s somewhat a breath of fresh air. “I was wondering when you’d appear,” I smile as he sits himself in his seat. Going quiet, I swirl my fruit around the pot with a fork. “Are you okay?” His face serious. I take a breath. “I wanted to apologise for last night actually. I shouldn’t of said what I said,” I dodge his gaze, which is extremely hard. The silence remains, but only for a second. “Did you mean it?” I could play dumb and be like ‘mean what’ but I know. It’s been running on loop for the past 16 hours. “It doesn’t matter whether I meant it or not. I have a boyfriend.” “So you did?” He smirks. I’m not gonna mention the effect of the smirk. I guess you can imagine. I let a small smile appear at the side of my face. “Maybe...” sober flirting is NOT okay Y/N! I try to remind myself over and over but it’s so tempting. My heart suddenly sinks. “Can I ask you something? I want a serious answer,” his eyes widen, yet he still nods. “Is it odd that my boyfriend asked Jess where I was last night, then asked me to double check?” His eyebrows raise. “He was trying to catch you out. That’s a bit-“ “I know.” Control your breathing Y/N. I start to feel extra heavy on my heart, which means I’m probably about 30 seconds away from breaking down. “He’s never been like that before,” I mutter. “Y/N. You need to realise that I’m probably more in love with you than he is,” my head shoots up, making him cough. I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat; it actually skipped about 17. “Don’t say shit like that Montgomery- he’s never even said it,” I laugh to break the awkwardness. “You’ve been dating for ages Y/N. You deserve better than that, always.” I watch as he lifts himself out of his seat. “Monty-“ I try and stop him. “I need to go, I’ll text you.”
Several sentences run on loop through my head for the rest of the day. Every breath that exited Monty’s mouth was just - confusing. Shoving my head in my locker, a lot like I see Clay doing a lot, seems just like the escape I need. Except it’s not an escape. I’m still in this shit hole. “Hey!” I get poked in my side gently by Y/BF/N. It’s been about an hour and a half since I spoke to Monty. So it’s been an hour and a half of me working myself. And right now I’m pretty fucking angry. He catches me roll my eyes. “Honestly, Y/BF/N, I wouldn’t wanna talk to me right now,” I warn him, as my heart starts to race faster and faster the more I look up at him. “What’s this about then?” A chuckle leaves his lips, and I contain as much as I can. “Maybe the fact that you don’t fucking trust me,” although I don’t think he should trust me, he has no reason to not. “Who said that?” He’s such a nice guy. I swear he is. I don’t wanna hurt him. “You!” I raise my voice but take a breath before continuing. ‘When you asked Jess where I stayed last night,” it’s almost a whisper. He lets out a big sigh. “I know what those guys are like.” Those guys. Everyone knows what most of those guys are like. Some of those guys are nice, to me at least. And some of those guys are Scott and Monty. That’s pretty much it. “And me? You don’t know what I’m like?” In the corner of my eye I see Monty laughing with Bryce, Zach, and Scott. A sudden urge comes over me to end this conversation. “Look, maybe we need some space,” I lie. As if we need more space. “Y/N,” his arm wraps around my forearm. The sad truth is that’s the most action I’ve got in a long ass time. “I’ll ring you tonight, I need to go.” So I close my locker, turn around, and catch Monty’s eye before walking out of school.
Refusing Jess’ offer to drive me home, I just think and pretty much talk to myself all the way to my house. I’m lost. Not actually physically lost, but I am lost. I’m only bought back to reality when my phone dings.
‘Really Y/N?’ - Y/BF/N ❤️
I can’t help but roll my eyes. This is what I have to do to get attention from my own boyfriend? No apology, because he hasn’t done anything wrong. He could say ‘let’s talk about it’. Why would he say that though? I go to text him back but my phone starts to ring.
“And what do you want Monty?” I smile down the phone. I’m very glad I’m on my own right now. “I was just seeing if you’re alright.” I sigh at his words. To think that’s all I want Y/BF/N to say. To show some affection! That would be nice. But Y/BF/N isn’t Monty. “I guess so. I’ve just got home.” He begins to talk about some random ass shit - stuff we wouldn’t usually talk about - while I unlock the front door to my house. Throwing my bag down on my bedroom floor, I get a text. Damn. Why am I so popular today? “Why has Bryce just texted me?” I laugh, mostly to myself. “He’s probably trying to get you to come to his house party tonight.” I freeze. “Wasn’t there-“ “Yeah, but his parents are out of town for a few days I think,” he sounds unimpressed. Monty? Bryce’s best friend? Is sounding unimpressed with Bryce’s actions? That’s a first. “Why’d you sound like that?” “I told him not to text you. Don’t let him pressure you into it,” it’s as if Monty knew every word that would make me like him more, more than I should. “I really enjoyed myself you know, I don’t think I mentioned that,” I admit, and silence falls across the line for seconds that feel like minutes. Then appears a cough. “Well, in that case, I’ll pick you up. If you want that is.” I can only read Monty’s face at the best of times, so trying to judge his voice is a fat ass struggle. “It’s-“ My body wanted to use the ‘it’s a date’ line. THAT would be embarrassing. “Okay then.”
Clothing. Such a funny thing. When it comes to Y/BF/N I find myself not really caring what I wear, so I feel somewhat guilty for caring now. ‘It’s a party’ is an excuse, but I’d be lying. He’s never shown much interest unfortunately. So here I am, rummaging frantically through my wardrobe and drawers to find something cute. I find a dress, that is probably a bit short, but ‘it’s a party’. Should I curl my hair? No. That looks like too much effort. But... no. I decide just to brush it. With a knock on the door, my head shoots to the clock on my wall. 8pm?! Shit. My legs and my heart speed up drastically and I hear my mum answer the door. Fuck no.
I walk downstairs and witness the embrace between Monty and my mother. “Ah Y/N, I was just meeting...” my mum pauses and gazed at me in hint of ‘what’s this guy’s name?’ “Monty,” I sigh. I press my lips together to smile towards them both. “It’s so nice to meet you,” if there’s one thing you should know about my mum is that she’s very touchy. I would’ve warned Monty, but I hadn’t quite imagined them meeting yet - or at all really. She shakes his hand. I cough while I slip my shoes on, which are trainers so I guess they kill the dress vibe. I don’t care. Once they’re on, my mission is to leave. I need to. I know what she’s like. “Alright, I’ll see you later!” I give my mum a hug and open the front door as fast as I can. “Please come in quietly. It was nice to finally meet you Monty! I’ve been waiting to meet Y/N boyfriend for a long time now.” “Alright bye!” I rush. Fuck.
“I’m sorry about that,” I laugh as I throw myself in the passenger seat. The smile on his face is very comforting. “Nah it’s cool, I’d love to have a mum like that,” my heart sinks slightly. I’m not 100% sure what that means, but it’s definitely not positive. “Y/N.” Is all he says. “About Y/BF/N-“ “I know.” I stop him. Thanks mum. The engine finally starts, and we’re off, and I realise that I’m off to a party with Monty. I don’t think this looks very good.
A drink is pretty much thrown at me as soon as I walk in the house. It’s a lot like deja vu, except I’ve appeared with Monty today. Shit. I shouldn’t be here. My eyes lay on Jess. “Give me a sec,” I say, and wonder over to my best friend. Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me as if we haven’t seen each other in weeks. We chat about some random shit until it must sink in. “Wait... did you come with Monty?” She asks thick with confusion. “I did...” I say slowly. “Does it look bad?” I ask. I ask only because I know she’ll be honest. “A little, but honestly fuck Y/BF/N!” My jaw drops with a smile. “I mean it! He’s a nice guy and all, but he’s pretty shit to you,” she shrugs and chugs the rest of her drink. “At least Monty is shit to everyone but you.”
Wishing Jess never said those words, I find myself hung up on them as I hang out with the guy. I know Monty isn’t the nicest person to everyone, but when I speak to him I don’t care. Should I? I feel like I should. I take a sip of my drink, which isn’t a mix of everything this time, while I listen to Scott. He’s one of those guys that you just want as your best friend. I laugh at the funny thing he said. I’d mention it, but I don’t remember as I notice Monty calling me over to him with his hand.
Finishing up my conversation with Scott, I follow Monty outside. The sky beams clear. Not a star in sight. “Are you cold?” He asks. It’s also not warm, but it isn’t cold either. I say no, slightly afraid of how I’d have to act if he offered his jacket. “I haven’t seen much of you,” I’m unsure of what to say so I say that. It’s never awkward with us, but I don’t trust myself anymore. Why should Y/BF/N trust me when I don’t even trust me? “Awe did you miss me?” He nudges me with a gleaming smile. I stop myself from smiling as the guilt starts to flood in. “Y/N-“ “I’m fine. It’s just...” “Y/BF/N,” he interrupts. I let out a short awkward laugh. Sigh. “I feel like talking about him with you will make things odd between us,” I gesture Monty and I. “And that’s wrong.” “It’s okay-“ “it’s not though,” tears - for some weird reason - start to form in my eyes. Blinking reduces the watering. That would be embarrassing. “He’s my boyfriend,” I let out in a whisper. “He’s a shit boyfriend if you ask me,” Monty huffs. Although I somewhat agree, Monty’s words stress me out a little. The truth hurts, and the fact that Monty is the only person to tell me that (other than Jess) is annoying. “Well I didn’t ask,” I didn’t want to snap at him, and my tone was too soft for it to. If anything I sounded pathetic. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says OUT OF NOWHERE. “Wha-“ I’m stopped by his lips. Lips so soft and sweet and just... perfect. His lips on mine, his fingers on his right hand tilting my chin up slightly. I’m truly swept away. My right hand goes up to the side of his face to keep his lips on mine for a little longer - and then I realise what I’m doing. Shit. I’m unsure of what to do as I pull away, so I just become completely speechless. Our eyes lock for 5 seconds at the most. Then I find myself running away.
“Woah, are you okay?” Hands go on my shoulder. More specifically, Scott’s hands, when he stops me in my tracks. “Fuck,” I let out in a breath. “Is there anywhere I can just go to breathe a second?” He walks me to a spare bedroom which is very clearly one of a few. I’m prepared to be by myself, but Scott takes a seat on the bed. My own fingers spread through my hair in a stressed motion. “I just kissed Monty,” Scott’s facial expression doesn’t change. I realise that this is Scott, and I shouldn’t be talking to him about this, but it’s also Scott - the actual nice guy. “And..?” He shrugs, shoving some small snack food in his mouth. “And I shouldn’t have.” “Do you have a boyfriend or something?” I snap my head to Scott after his words. “Y/BF/N..?” I ask slowly, and his eyes widen. “What, really? I thought he was gay,” I can’t help but crack a smile for a very short second. “Scott...” I shake my head. Honestly I’m just thankful Scott’s the way he is. How did he just lighten the mood with that? “I know I shouldn’t pry but he doesn’t really treat you in that way,” he pauses. “From what I’ve seen of course.” Oh of course. “Look Scott, I appreciate this but can you give me a second to be by myself?” I ask as nicely as I can. “Oh shit, yeah of course. Sorry,” he chuckles, and stands. “What do you want me to tell Monty?” He turns before he leaves the room. “Anything, but don’t tell him I’m up here please.” He closes the door behind him.
I pace the floor up and down approximately 50 times before Monty walks through the door. My heart stops. “I told Scott-“ “I know, but he’s my best friend Y/N,” he closes the door gently behind him, but he doesn’t enter the room fully. Only staying by the door. As if waiting for some sort of permission, I watch as he twiddles his fingers. “You shouldn’t of kissed me Monty,” I sigh. A step forward is taken by the boy in front of me. “I’m really sorry,” to be able to feel the apology from Montgomery De La Cruz is truly something. I’ve never seen him like this. I hate how much I like it. “You know I have a boyfriend, and you did it anyway,” Monty avoids my gaze at him, looking at the ground instead. Or the ceiling. Or the wall. “I just thought-“ “I know what you thought.” I stop him. I want him him to leave, but the thought of him leaving me right now was just heartbreaking. A few more steps are taken. “It’s unfair. It’s unfair on Y/BF/N, and you. And me.” When his eyes finally look at me - not at anything but - I just knew. The feeling of needing someone has never felt so prominent to me. So I act on it. My hands reach up to his head, I lift myself onto my tip toes, and pull his lips down to mine. His hands are gently caressing my waist within seconds. My legs lead us towards the bed. The feeling of his body slowly sitting down shouldn’t of been a cue for my body to straddle him, but I do. And then the make out becomes a bit more full on. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. I should be regretting this, but it’s actually perfect. The way he slides his tongue into my mouth, and the way his hands are slowly making their way lower down my body, it’s a different feeling. In this moment, I’m starting to realise how full I feel around him, and how almost utterly empty I feel otherwise. I let out a light moan as his hand reach my ass and move me - creating that friction feeling I’ve been missing. The smirk I felt under our kiss was adorable. I didn’t even need to see it, although I’m thankful I didn’t. This boy doesn’t need to wrap me around his finger any tighter.
My hands move themselves to the bottom of his tee, and that’s when I freeze. I break our lips and balance my forehead on his. Heavy breathes leave my mouth. “I’m sorry, I just-“ I pause to breathe and think carefully about my words. “I don’t wanna stop but I think I need to sort some shit out,” he nods underneath me, but he says absolutely nothing. This is not where my guilt should be. “I’m just a bad enough person already as it is,” I let out a chuckle once I see the side of his mouth turn up slightly. “Want me to drive you home?” I smile sympathetically at his words. His voice so soft. I hold the sides of his face and smooth his cheeks for a few seconds. His hand holds over mine, takes it, and kisses it. Blush. “Okay, let’s leave now,” I laugh, embarrassed of the hold he has over me.
Midday the next day
Since there was almost no drinking and definitely no drugs taken on my part, my head should be fine. But my head is FUCKED. Do I feel guilty? I feel guilty about leaving Monty last night, not Y/BF/N. And that’s making me feel guilty. So it’s about 7am and I’m walking to school. I hardly slept, I just thought the rest of the night. When I did finally fall asleep, I dreamt about Monty and how perfect last night was despite everything. I’m only walking to pass time. Driving would be way too quick. Although, my plan to have my mission planned by the time I get there, is a mission failed already. A 30 minute walk and nothing. Fuck.
In a crowd of people, I automatically spot 4 people. Monty and Scott are the first two, then Jess, and then Y/BF/N. My paranoia goes straight to ‘Monty’s told Scott and Scott’s told everyone else’, but I’ve never seen Scott or Monty like that. I know they’ve done it though. That makes me nervous. I go straight to Jess. She always knows what to say. “Hey... Jess,” I sigh. Usually me and Jess get lost in ourselves and ignore a lot of the noise around us, but not today. Not for me. Eyes were on me, even if they weren’t actually. “Are you- oh Y/N,” her eyes hint to my left. Y/BF/N. “That’s my cue to leave,” her words leave as does she. Thanks a lot. “We need to talk.” He knows.
We walk outside just around the corner. It’s not as if we’re in private. Nothing is private here. “We need to talk about yesterday,” he looks me dead in the eyes, which is quite intimidating. I’m such a shitty person. “I thought about it, and I understand why you acted the way you did.” His words sting. There’s nothing I can do. Admitting it out loud is so frightening so I say nothing still. He sighs. “The silent treatment? Really? You overreacted about me asking Jess,” he rolls his eyes at me. My gut goes from feeling sick, to really fucking angry. “Wow okay,” I let out in an angry mumble. “But I am sorry. I should’ve just asked you, and not Jess,” my eyebrows raise at his apology. “You’re a dickhead,” is all I can get out. My legs try to walk me away, but his hand clutch my wrist. “I’m trying to fix this,” his words, although exactly what I wanted to hear, were quite harshly spat at me as his grip grows tighter. “I think we need to be done.” Did I actually just say that? I’ve kept that to myself for too long. He lets my arm fall from his grip. I’ve never seen him like this. “You’re not breaking up with me, you’re gonna regret that.” The guy I watch strop away is not the guy I know? Who is that?
The bell rang about 10 minutes after Y/BF/N walked away, but I only just walk myself into the building. I find the guy I actually don’t mind bumping into leaning again my locker. “Hey Monty,” his smile makes me smile, which is so gross I know. “Are you okay?” He asks, nodding towards outside. “Yeah, I just, I’m so confused,” when I light my hand up to cup my forehead, I notice - as does Monty - the finger marks around my wrist. They’re ever so faint, but they’re there. “He tried to stop me walking away, it’s no big deal,” I say to his eyes. The facial expression was nothing I’d seen before. “Honestly, it’s nothing,” my right hand reaches up to his face to cup his cheek, then I realise where we are. “What did he say?” He asks. I wonder why he cares so much. It’s really attractive. “Can we talk about it later?” I ask, and his slow nod is extremely comforting. “Do you wanna ditch?” A wide smile spread across his face. “Monty...” I whisper, reciprocating the same expression. My back slowly flattens against the lockers neighbouring mine as his body gets closer to mine. “I think we should ditch,” he says again once his body is gently touching mine. Imagine just one person comes out of class right now. We definitely shouldn’t, but I really want to. “Okay,” I whisper, nibbling the inside of my lip. His hand slips gently into mine and he pulls me out of the shitty school. I’m a terrible person.
It’s as if it’s a whole other world with Monty. I can’t describe it fully, because I don’t fully understand it myself, but I got lost in him. “Where are we going then?” He asks about 5 minutes into driving. I raise my eyebrows towards him with a fat smile on my face. “You’re the one who said we should ditch!” He just shrugs. I face forwards, but I catch him smirk at me in the corner of my eye whilst scanning me briefly up and down. This guy is too attractive. “I guess we can go to mine, it should be empty.”
I unlock the door to an empty house. Like the gentleman he is, he slips his shoes off just to the side. “What shall we do?” He asks with bright eyes. “Hungry?” His response is obviously.
We decide to make some cakes - which isn’t exactly what I mean by food but it’s a lot nicer anyway. By ‘we’ I mean me. I weigh out all the ingredients while he just observes. “Are you gonna help?” I ask with a slight chuckle. “I’m actually alright just watching you,” he bites his lip after his words. “That’s creepy Montgomery.” “Hearing you say my full name turns me on,” my face goes from normal to very red. His face remains serious too, other than a smirk forming slowly. I ignore him (as much as I can) and go back to pouring the ingredient into one bowl and mixing. It only takes seconds before I feel his body directly behind mine. I feel as his fingers creep towards my waist, and his head slowly sinking to my level. I refuse to get distracted by him and continue mixing, and his lips proceed to my neck. Holy shit. He kisses it once, then twice, then an open mouth one. As he begins sucking and nibbling, my hand (as if a reflex) goes to the back of his head. I spin myself to face him. My eyes scan him as I breathe slightly heavier than usual. A few seconds of silence. “Fuck you,” is all I can whisper before wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. He slides the bowl from behind me and lifts me onto the counter. Although his body is as close as it can be right now, it remains not close enough. Our tongues battle and glide through each other’s mouths. It takes no time for me to realise how much I need him. I’ve been fooling myself all this time. When I grab the bottom of his shirt, this time I remove it as fast as I can. Wow. I take a second to absorb it all it. “It’s rude to stare,” he grunts, his hands smoothing my thighs up and down slowly. I look down at them, and look back up to his eyes. The sensation going through my body was phenomenal. He hasn’t even touched me yet. I grab the top of his trousers and pull him closer to me. Starting from his lips, I lay kisses down. Across to his cheek, down to his neck, and a few down his chest. I feel his heartbeat become irregular. The most attractive thing in the moment was the very apparent wait for the okay. His eyes scan my body, just like I did, except he has nothing to admire. Me on the other hand? Wow. The only signal I can send him is by unbuckling his belt. A sort-of glow forms in his eyes before finally moving.
My thong gets dropped on the floor near by. The guilt comes from me wearing my favourite underwear today, but I now have nothing to feel guilty about. Well... not this. I want to be here. I watch as he kneels down to floor, his face opposite my heat. Desperate for his touch. The breath that left his mouth became more and more fierce as he came close and closer, before finally making contact. His mouth wraps around my clit. I send my head back and my hand pushes to the back of his head once again. “Oh shit,” I breathe out in a moan. His hands wrap around my thighs, pulling my body closer to his mouth. My moans try to remain retained, which was a lot harder than I imagined. I just moan louder and louder ad he continues eating me out. As his tongue laps all over, I already feel like letting go. Not yet. I pull him up, shutting his confused look up with my mouth on his. My hands fumble at his belt again, but his large hands stop mine in their tracks. He pulls his lips off mine, our noses still keeping contact. “I need you,” I whisper. I feel as a deep breath leaves his mouth onto mine. “Trust me, I need you. But not here,” and with that he picks me up with one arm under my knees and the other hooked under my arms. As he somehow starts carrying me up the stairs, I get caught up in the moment. “Shit it’s like we just got married,” I smile and chuckle to show I’m joking. The smirk, the eyes, the everything on his face. “I’ll marry you,” I collapse my head on his shoulder, shaking it slightly. “Fuck,” I whisper, lifting my head and pushing my lips on his when we get to the top.
Being thrown on my own bed is the single most attractive thing I’ve ever experienced. He kneels between my slightly spread legs. Sitting up, I attach my lips to his chest, kissing ball the way up to finally being back on his lips. The kiss pulls his body down onto mine. The stupid belt is finally removed and I start to pull his trousers down and off. Naked. Montgomery De La Cruz is knelt slightly in front of me putting a condom on his dick while I shuffle in under my covers. I didn’t think we’d get here. Well... not this soon. “I thought staring was creepy,” his voice speaks, low and sexy. I wish the smirk wasn’t so natural to him. Most guys do it and it’s not it at all. He does it and... “No. Saying you were fine watching me was creepy. I’m just- admiring?” I suck in my bottom lip, nibbling at it just a little for him to notice. “Okay I’ll let you off,” he throws the covers over him, his face coming extremely close to mine yet not touching. My legs, as if by reflex, spread a little more when his tip brushes against the inside of my thigh. My heart races more. “If you wanna stop just tell me,” is the only thing he could’ve said to both calm me and get me more flustered inside. I nod. He starts to enter himself inside me - quite slowly and carefully - stopping until I give him another nod. Although I’m not a virgin, the discomfort was still there a bit. I cup his face with my hand, stroking his cheek with my thumb. I trail it down to his lips where he kisses it once. He freezes inside me for a few seconds once his length is fully inside me. “Okay,” I nod, pulling his face down onto mine before he pulls out slowly to push back in. I try not to moan already. He slips his tongue into my mouth, swirling and crashing it with mine mid moan. His lips kiss down to my chin, which is when his hand lifts my leg up and out. As my breathing hitches more, nibbles go across my neck to my ear. Woah. He takes my ear lobe between his teeth, pulling it down. That’s something I’ve never felt before. “Moan for me,” pillow talk is another thing I’ve never experienced, which leads me to grunt rather loudly. Mid-moan his lips reattach themselves to mine. I let my hands grip his back. My aim was to pull him closer to me, but all I do is scratch down his back. At first I feel bad, then I hear the moan from Monty that followed. That was me done. “Fuck,” I let out in his mouth. The pace is increased more, my arms wrap around his neck - almost hugging him into me. A hand grips my waist as if to say ‘I know you’re close’. I am. I so am. Holding back was in my plans. I spread my fingers through his hair as I begin to let go. “Monty,” I squeak between our lips. A release I’ve been waiting for, with the guy I think I’ve been needing. Once again, Monty’s thrusts increase one last time, this time for his own climax. The twitch inside me finished my frenzy around him. All that was left between us was sweat and heavy breathing.
I lay, my head on his chest, with his arm thrown around me like in the movies. The fingers on our hands intertwined together in an unsolvable puzzle. Chatting as if it was normal what we just did. It is normal. It feels normal. Which is the weird thing. “When’s your mum coming home?” He asks, placing a kiss on the back of my hand. “She’s working a night shift tonight, so you can stay if you’d like,” those aren’t exactly the words I wanted to say. “I should probably go home, my dad-“ “Please stay. I want you to stay,” I stop him with the words I truly meant to stay. Imagine staying overnight with a boy? True heaven I imagine. Especially since that guy is Monty. I tilt my head up to look him in the eyes. His lips, still soft and kind, place themselves on my lips again after letting out an ‘okay’. And suddenly it’s another makeout session. I know exactly where this is going to go. I’m gonna - if I’m not already - fall too hard for Montgomery De La Cruz.
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balizardsnakething · 3 years
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TW DRAMA AND ME ACTING ON MY EMOTIONS CAUSE OF THIS POST 
Granted I did post this after sending her an apology and I’m glad I now have official confirmation that she has seen said apology. The very fact that I have sent an apology means that I had got over the situation and just didn’t care about it anymore. I also tagged @toomanyfamdom because we thought it was ✨funny✨ and have gotten over the situation (unlike some). 
It should also be noted that I haven’t had any contact with Maddy since everything that happened and at least had the decency to send an apology and move on. Also, for the record, I had nothing to do with that list of toxicity. That list was put together and shown to me by my friends. I then continued to FORWARD THE SAME MESSAGE to Maddy because I disagreed with the list. 
Let’s see, shall we? Up first on the list of hell that I had nothing to do with (and disagree with) there is... “inconsiderate of time zones and peoples family life.” This eventually turned out to be accurate, not just for me but for many others. Madison would organise events like DnD games at UNGODLY hours in the morning (because she is in American time zones) and when us British people were unable to turn up she would kick them from the game and then proceed to shame their character for an hour. Granted her uncle did pass (im very sorry for your loss), but that had nothing to do with anything. Many of us (including myself) helped Maddy and were there for her, and I have plenty of messages to prove it. 
ANOTHER thing to do with time is when I was added to one of the greatest Instagram group chats in the world! However, my sleep was abruptly ruined when Maddy group-called the chat at 4am because she wanted to play Minecraft with a friend. Please direct call next time... thanks. 
Whilst on the subject of time family life, one of the most memorable things this girl did was shame me and attack me on one of the discord servers we were both on. What made this even worse was that I had an audition for a London West End theatre school which had the power to change my LIFE. And Maddy knew this and also knew that it was worrying me and that I was extremely stressed about it. You may say ‘oh, it's just a coincidence’. If you believe that please explain why said post tagged everyone and was posted 5 mins before my audition. Maddy knew this would stress me out, I spoke about the audition and my ability to read into things many times before and she knew this would get to me! A lot of the things Maddy did were petty shit, but then again, that’s who she is. 
Next up is... “shows blatant favouritism.” Well, it’s no surprise Maddy has so many friends! But which ones does she actually care about? My friends and I witness this first hand on many occasions, one of which being another DnD game where she was the dungeon master. Maddy made the turn order by (and I quote’, “the order is in who I love the most.” This caused some of us to feel a little uncomfortable, but we continued until Maddy put each character on a path to different destinations and explained which each path was. By the time it got to me, my dyspraxia/dyslexia couldn't hold the information, and I asked Maddy to explain them all again. Maddy agreed and but then ended with, “You just used up you go, Charley.” I was so confused! Apparently, explanations waste a turn??? But this was fine by me until Maddy explained the destinations to another player, but this time, she let them choose where they wanted to go instead of keeping them on the bench, awaiting their turn. Maddy would also allow people to have longer goes/round claiming that there was more to their story. My turn would be around 2mins where someone else would be 5. Again, petty shit which still happens to make people upset. 
Note: It was not just me who felt this way! Many others slid into my dms because they felt upset with how Maddy treated others but not themselves. 
Up next is, “making your best friend feel like shit for making a joke”. Another reminder, this list wasn’t written by me, it was written by my friend who was watching from the outside. And this is very true. I would often make jokes with people about Donald Trump and America because their laws and president (not anymore) were stupid. This always seemed to annoy Maddy and hurt her feelings. I would often make a throwaway comment but end up feeling bad about it because Maddy would leave the call. I always felt like I was walking on thin ice with her because if I said something even remotely controversial, she would not speak to me and leave the call. This really hurt me because I cared about my friends a heck of a lot and never wanted to ruin any relationships with them. I would send countless messages to Maddy, apologising and crying to her, telling her not to be mad at me. THAT 👏🏻 IS 👏🏻 A 👏🏻 TOXIC 👏🏻 RELATIONSHIP 👏🏻 One joke shouldn’t be the be-all and end-all of a friendship,, but that is what It always felt like! Also, Maddy never specified it was a trigger until recently, and even after she did say it was a trigger, I held back so she could feel comfortable. 
The final thing is: “made you feel bad for your emotions.” Madison needs to learn that EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT and that people deal with things in different ways. Not everyone is smart, sensitive or skinny like she is. Whenever anyone hurt my friends, I would lash out and act upon my emotions because I didn’t know what else to do. This is something Maddy heavily criticised me for and something that eventually resulted in me listening to high-frequency sounds so I could get rid of my emotions and feel numb. My logic was that I didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again by jumping the gun and acting upon emotion. But thanks to others, I was pulled out of that loop, and I’ve learnt to use logic and reason as well as emotion. 
As for “breaking my heart”. Yes. Our friendship ending did hurt me, a lot. Just like everything with you, it is very one-sided. I was reaching out, listening and trying to help Maddy repair relationships with people whom she’d hurt. We both said equally bad things which made the ‘relationship’ toxic, and I would just like to point out that the name, ‘evil Maddy’ is cringe and I’m ashamed I was ever friends with you considering you used that in a callout post. /hj
---------------
Sarcasm aside, ima be real here because I am not afraid to tell my side of the story. So, @ thenameisnoone / Maddy. Here is a long-ass response to the post you made about me. xx
Look, I’m not going to call you out or use Politics_notmything to cancel you because I’m not like that. I’m an actual good person who really tried with Maddy and dis my best to change myself to make her feel comfortable. I left a group chat with all my friends for a week and blamed it on ‘family issues’ because I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. I made an entire Birthday PowerPoint for her, which included some of my best and favourite bootlegs. I made a genuine effort, but Maddy didn't really do anything else but tell me to “calm down” or “not throw everything away and give in to anger or despair and calm down until you can think rationally and make a logical decision”. 
And I’m glad I actually saw this because this is a classic Maddy move. She argues with people, builds up a situation then removes/blocks them, so they cant see everything she’s saying about them (i have proof of this from a server im in.) It has happened before, and she manipulated people into believing her side of the story. 
“I am allowed to block people who lie to me about serious topics even though they have trust issues which makes them unable, to tell the truth, if it hurts them. I am allowed to talk to people who blow up on me before hearing my side of things where they would have realised what they thought is wrong even though I dont get back to people until 3am and decide to leave them on delivered/read for days at a time when I am happily talking in other servers. I am allowed to block people who accuse me of shit-talking them with my friends who I introduced them to (and I never do that) when I have only defended them and said friends genuinely were being nice to them even if they have proof. I am allowed to block people. Period.” - Maddy 
And I’m not saying Maddy isn't allowed to block people. It’s a free world. Im just defending myself :) 
Granted, Maddy did defend me and say that this situation shouldn’t change anyone opinions on me, and I can say the same. Just because I had a terrible experience with Maddy, doesn’t mean she is a bad person and I encourage anyone online who loves women’s’ history and WATT to befriend her. 
But being honest, she did also call me a bitch on a Tumblr callout post, so I had to come and write this all down for safekeeping and reblogging purposes. Im not a bitch, and that is why I’m not using my following to cancel her. But anyway,  we both had some shit experiences with each other so you can read this and make up your own mind even though I did back her up with the previous call-out post, sent her my support, apologised and didn’t block her when she was at a bad time in her life or when she needed help. If anyone has a problem with me posting this, please contact me via DM. 
Sorry, not sorry ‘bout what I said. I’m just tired of your petty shit.
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softhaos · 5 years
Text
PURELY PLATONIC
pairing – joshua hong x reader genre – fluff  description – you never expected to find a new friend due to ranting about lee chan. you also never expected to find a dumbass spreading the rumor that you and joshua were suddenly a couple. alternatively, you and joshua are really just friends without benefits but uh, everyone else begs to differ. warning – none word count – 4,774 words author’s note – for once, i’m not writing a crackfic, i think? it came out so much more different than i initially planned (which was basically three months ago sdjjk) either way i hope you enjoy xx
set in the victorious universe | can be read as a standalone
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You are going to kill Seokmin. As soon as he fixes the mess, that is. You’d love to end his life right there and then, but his early death wouldn’t solve your wifi issue. There is no plausible explanation on to how Seokmin managed to cause a power outage in your apartment but the fact is: with no electricity available, there’s also no wifi.
Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. You could go several hours without wifi, that’s not an issue at all.
However, when you have to finish revising your article for the college newspaper and send in the final draft of your work before five in the evening because you value your wellbeing and don’t want Chan bitching at you for approximately a month, it becomes a very big issue. And as much as you like to joke about falling off the stairs, you don’t want to actually die due to Chan latching onto you and expressing his annoyance about your inability to report back in time.
You only have three hours left to edit the word vomit you produced and the next best location where you can work is the Pow Wow café two blocks away from the apartment complex. There really aren’t any downsides to the coffee shop: their coffee is heavenly and the internet connection works just as fine as your own. It’s a genius solution.
What you didn’t calculate into your brilliant masterplan is the peak time at Pow Wow. You realize that the moment you step inside the café.
The interior hits the mark of comfort and zero tackiness. Black and red pillows are lying on the couches and give the place more life besides the pale green and beige accents on the wall. There’s a reason why Pow Wow is pretty much considered the best café on campus grounds. The loud chatters blend in with the Bob Marley song that’s playing in a moderate volume from the speakers and become almost inaudible to you as you scan the place for a free table. The disappointment strikes you hard since all you are met with are unfamiliar faces. Whenever you spot a free seat, either the clutter on the table refrains you from claiming it or the person just returned from their refill back to their clutter. The odds are definitely not in your favor today.
At this point, you’re already dialing Mingyu’s phone number in the hopes that he could pick you up and let you abuse his (very shitty) wifi. Any internet connection suffices, you figure, and if the next best thing is Mingyu’s horrible wifi, you just have to suck it up. Your plan C for everything has always been Mingyu and so far, it has always worked out.
Except for this time, it doesn’t.
“Please leave a message after the–” you don’t bother speaking into the answering machine and slip your phone back into your pocket. Maybe you shouldn’t have expressed your desperate need to behead Seokmin, that’s possibly the reason why the odds are not in your favor at all.
Nonetheless, since you’re already here, you might as well get your hourly dose of caffeine.
“Anything else?” the barista – Minki is his name according to the name tag – asks as he writes your name on the cup before sliding it to his coworker. The overly bright smile that is bound to be a forced one never leaves his lips.
“A good wifi connection and some silence,” you shoot back intuitively.
Startled by the given answer, Minki raises a brow and nods understandingly. “Ah, I wish I could have those privileges too.”
He’s about to add something when one of the other workers call your name, a sign that your order is done. You send him an apologetic, fleeting glance before you scurry off and grab your drink.
Cup in one hand and phone in the other, you’re about to dial pretty much every contact you have in hopes that at least someone would be so kind enough and give you their wifi. You’re almost by the door when you suddenly collide against someone and stagger. But before you end up on the ground facedown, warm hands have a firm grip on your shoulders and prevent you from losing balance. Surprisingly, you don’t spill your coffee or drop your phone.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I–” your mind goes blank and the words lingering on your tongue are forgotten when you see his face.
“You sure?” he asks again, brows furrowed in worry. His jet black hair is messy from the wind and some strands reach down to his eyes. However, you still recognize him faintly even if his appearance is different than usual.
“You’re Joshua from Professor Ahn’s composing class, aren’t you?” you blurt out and immediately regret sounding so ecstatic. If it weren’t for your both hands that were already holding something, you would’ve clamped your mouth shut. Judging by Joshua’s startled reaction, you might have as well beamed at him.
“Uh…” he chuckles lightheartedly but is still weirded out, “Y/N, we’ve been in the same course since the beginning of the semester, which by the way, started a month ago.”
“I only ever see you with glasses, so excuse me for not recognizing you right away,” you improvise and scrunch up your nose when you brought up the glasses. Technically, you didn’t lie to him. Up until now, you’ve really only met him with specs perched on his nose.
You haven’t talked a lot with him – scratch that, you’ve never exchanged a word with him before. There has never been a reason for you to approach him and even if you wanted to approach him at the end of a lesson, he’d rush out the classroom as fast as the wind. If you’re not mistaken, he’s pretty much the first person to be present before the lesson and the first to leave the lesson.
Joshua seems to believe you and rubs the back of his head. “I really do look different without glasses, huh? But back to the point. You looked awfully stressed just a moment ago.”
“Karma,” you deadpan, “Or long story short: A friend of mine trashed my wifi, he’s fixing it at the moment but I have to submit my article for the newspaper in a few hours unless I want Chan haunting me.”
Joshua feels the pain to well and cringes at the mention of Chan as if you had set off a foul memory of his. “Chan can be… a handful.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Who does he think he is, running around and acting as if he were God?” at this point, you already lost track of time just ranting about the head editor of the official college newspaper. You must’ve been complaining about your life dilemmas for so long that one guy rudely tells you to not block the way to the exit. That was the incentive for Joshua to pull you away and one moment later, you’re sitting right in front of him.
You’re about to let out all your pent up anger about Seokmin on him when he interrupts with a small smile and hand gesture.
“If you want to rant on, I’ll be glad to lend you an ear. But seeing as it’s five pm in a few hours and you still haven’t sent in the final draft to Chan, I suggest you work on that first.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” you mumble after a moment of silence. That doesn’t stop you from pulling out your notebook and setting it on the smooth wooden surface.
Your comment triggers a wholehearted chuckle. Joshua slightly tilts his head back but quickly recovers after taking a sip from his refill. “Chan’s wrath? Been there, done that. I wouldn’t even want to have the people I dislike go through that.”
“That bad?” you inquire playfully.
“Think Professor Jang’s wrath but a little less Professor Jang.”
You almost choke.
“That’s it. I really have to pull myself together,” you say monotonously and open your article about this year’s talent admission contest. A quick glance at the clock suffices to get your gears working at lightning speed. You still manage to swallow a frustrated groan when you look at the word vomit and suddenly realize how much editing is really needed for this piece.
You may have successfully refrained your voice from exposing your misery, however, your face speaks for itself. You don’t bother to look up or you refuse when Joshua asks, “Need help?”
“If you can help me edit this article, you’re my lifesaver,” you shoot back instantly while keeping your eyes glued to the screen.
Joshua snorts in response. “I used to work on a project with him. Several times, actually. I don’t usually speak highly of myself, but I am confident that I know what floats his boat and what doesn’t.”
This time it’s your turn to let out a burst of laughter. “People still use that saying?”
“That’s Chan’s language when he’s feeling really artistic.” Joshua grins before he stands up and occupies the chair beside you. In the blink of an eye, he’s suddenly leaning towards you and meddles with your laptop so that he can also view the screen. You don’t miss how his eyeballs almost fall out of their sockets as he quickly skims through the words. “Did you write a novel or something? And you’re crazy enough to edit this monster by yourself?”
“Look, I get carried away easily–”
“Samuel Kim deserves better,” he reads out loud and you feel the blood draining from your face.
“...and I tend to be very subjective,” you trail off. Suddenly, editing your article by yourself seemed like the better option. Maybe even having Chan pestering you is the better–
Okay, that’s definitely a lie. You’re not going to finish that thought.
“Let me just share the link so I can access the draft from my own laptop,” Joshua suggests as if he were asking for your permission first. That seems to go down the drain as his nimble fingers are already working fast while he’s speaking. It doesn’t bother you though.
What follows after he accessed your article from his own device is comfortable silence. Besides the occasional comment from his side concerning your statements about some contestants (he was very persistent about the runner-up Ha Yoonbin in particular) and the background chatter, the main sound you perceive is your fingers feverishly hitting the letters on the keyboard.
The two of you are so engrossed in editing the article that you barely process the time. It’s when Joshua returns to the table after grabbing a refill for the two of you that you wonder how long you’ve been working on the text. Your heart stops beating when you realize that you only have five minutes left before the deadline.
However, after skimming through the visibly shorter word vomit than before, you deem the article as fair enough and send Chan the final draft.
With the weight finally lifted off your shoulders, a wave of relief washes over you.
“Joshua, you're my lifesaver. I'm dead serious here,” you say while gazing at him with an equally serious face. “By the way, thanks for the refill. Wait a sec, I'll grab my wallet—”
“It's on me,” he cuts you off and sets the cup on your table before you can refuse. “Seriously, it's no big deal. I'm glad I could help.”
Your eyes flicker from him to the cup and then back to his face. Shooting him an incredulous stare, you set your fist on the table to prove a point. However, he doesn't seem impressed judging by the quirked brow and waits for you to elaborate.
“It doesn't work like this. You don't spontaneously help me out with an over 20,000-word article and buy me a coffee. On top of that, you don't want to be paid back? That's unacceptable!” you declare and demonstratively repeat your action.
A fond smile paves its way onto his face. He attempts to say something but always pulls back in the last moment. So after what feels like a moment of silence too long, he proposes, “Fine, if you really insist, then you owe me one. I don't know when it'll come in handy but let's say I need some help with an assignment for composing class, you'll have to help me out. Deal?”
“Fine by me. But what about the coffee?”
Joshua’s eye twitches. It's a faint movement, barely visible if you don't pay enough attention yet you still pick it up. You refrain yourself from pointing it out though.
“How about you buy me one coffee as we continue our discourse about things Chan does that annoy us some other day?” he inquires after a while, fingers tapping an irregular beat on his cup.
You detect the playfulness in his tone but you also know he isn't completely joking regarding this matter.
A smile erupts on your lips.
“Text me whenever you're free or feeling like it.”
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You really did spend several hours at Pow Wow ranting about Chan and his antics. Along the way, you might have found more topics you could collectively complain about or praise that led to a second platonic date.
And a third.
And more after.
Sometimes your conversations even escalated into a debate about the talent admission contest a few weeks back.
(“Ha Yoonbin should've won and any other opinion is invalid!”
“Well, in the end, you're Boo Boo the Fool because believe it or not, Yoon Jeonghan won the contest fair and square!”
“I don't deny his talent but Ha Yoonbin!!!”)
Either way, new topics led to more meetings and at this point, you lost count of the number of times you and Joshua have hung out. He’s easy to banter with and to an outsider, it may seem as if you two have known each other for ages. It’s borderline scary how quickly Joshua picks up your humor and therefore, it also doesn’t take too long for you to clown him the way you clown Seokmin–
You admit you clown him a little less than Seokmin. Nonetheless, his reactions are priceless and it’s not your fault that he gives you enough material to tease him about.
“One day, the broken glass song will rise again,” you promise him, observing his every reaction.
He groans in response and hides his face behind his hands. “Don’t you dare bring it up again.”
“How can’t I? Your meme-worthiness is on the same level as the backpack kid!”
He gives you a death stare but it comes off as a pathetic attempt of a glare, almost whimsical even. The cold look never suited him in the first place, you think because his features are all soft and it’s simply impossible to look unapproachable with his face.
“Don’t compare me with him, Jesus Christ.”
You chuckle lightheartedly and raise your arms in defense. “I was just messing with you! Okay, fine, I’ll shut up about it.”
“Thank you.”
“For now.”
Joshua looks like he’s about to kill you. His eyes might not say so but the rest of his actions do. You don’t miss the way his hands grip his mug tighter, causing his veins to show up slightly. However, he keeps his artificially sweet smile and resorts to changing the topic.
“Jokes aside, I need some help concerning a song.”
That catches your interest. “A song, you say?”
“I feel like some of the lyrics are off,” he explains and finishes his coffee. “Besides, you still owe me that.”
He’s right. While you have spent a lot of time together, the situation where he would need your help hasn’t arisen up until now. Of course, you haven’t forgotten that – even if your memory wasn’t the best, you couldn’t ever forget that he helped you with your article.
That’s how you end up in his bedroom of the apartment he shares with Kim Taehyung, another Seoul Arts student whose major you don’t recall. All you know is that he’s very invested in stage plays but is never the main role of any play. Oh, and he mixes very delicious cocktails.
Joshua’s room is fairly big, but it’s surprisingly very clean. His bed is neatly made, there’s no clutter on his desk by the window, there’s no book missing on his shelf and the several guitars he owns are standing side by side, right next to the closet.
Your eyes flit through the lyrics Joshua handed to you while he’s busy tuning his guitar. The lyrics are cute, endearing even – what else do you expect from a love song titled “falling for u”? It seems as if Joshua’s love (or addiction) for coffee is so strong that he even included it in his lyrics.
“So tell me truthfully–” you look up and smirk “– who is the muse for this song?”
At that moment, Joshua’s cheeks take a faint shade of red. “There is none,” he mumbles and adds in a louder voice, “Anyway, should I sing you the song?”
“Don’t bullshit me,” you scoff because there’s no way that he just came up with the lyrics without a person in mind. The words are too personal for that matter. “If it makes you feel more at ease, I promise I won’t tell anyone and if I do, I’ll buy your coffee until the end of the year.”
As if he doesn’t believe it, his eyes go wide. But as fast as he widened, he squints as you suspiciously just as swiftly. “You do know I drink a lot of coffee. Your wallet is going to suffer,” he points out slowly.
You roll your eyes and prop your chin on your palm. “Of course I’m well aware of that. That’s exactly why I said it.”
Joshua studies you hard, conflicted whether he should really trust you or not. His muse for this song must really be someone he’s really crushing on, you figure. While it is some very valuable information and definitely something you can tease him with, you’d never go behind his back and pass it on to others. That’s a big, red no-no.
“Fine, but you really can’t tell anyone else,” he warns and you nod frantically while you move to a sitting position on his bed.
“So uh…” he rubs the back of his head and avoids your gaze, “It’shmmnhung.”
You cock your head to the side, thousand invisible question marks floating over your head. “Who?”
Joshua stares at you, silently asking you if you were serious and turns as red as a tomato. However, he sighs once and repeats his sentence much clearer. “It’s. Kim. Min. Kyung.”
Your last functioning brain cells only process the name slowly. You blink at him dumbfoundedly several times until you finally matched the name with a face. When the realization finally hits you, you nearly fall off the bed.
“What?! You do know she has a girlfriend, right?! This–” you screech while waving around with the lyric sheet, “–is downright a confession, so what were you even thinking?!”
“Of course I do!” Joshua replies in the same frantic manner before elaborating, “This song was written before Minkyung and Yaebin got together and yes, I’ve stopped crushing on her. She was just the inspiration for this song and I find this song too good to dump it.”
“Good.” you nod appreciatively and cooled down from the shock. “I mean, not only good that you’re not going to be petty and break them up or something but good that you’re confident in your songs too.”
“I try to.” he shrugs.
“It’s a start.” you wave your hand as a sign for him to start singing. “Now show me what you’ve got, Mister I-try-to-be-confident-in-my-songs.”
You’ve never heard Joshua sing before, so naturally, you’re mesmerized by his voice from the moment he starts singing. His voice isn’t all too powerful and you doubt he can belt like Seokmin, but his tone is smooth and sweet like honey and the guitar just complements his vocal color. The song is simple in itself but you can already imagine the number of people listening to this while they study.
“I’m falling for you–” he sings with closed eyes and you note the small smile taking over his lips. He really must’ve liked Minkyung a lot.
And suddenly, the door flings open.
“Shua, can you believe? Jeongguk managed to get me tickets to that one show in Hongdae– oh?” Taehyung struts into the room, blue hair messily falling above his eyes but he instantly stops in his tracks when he sees you on the bed while Joshua’s sitting on the carpeted floor.
“–once again.” Joshua’s voice slowly drops into his normal talking voice and shoots him an incredulous stare.
“Uh, I didn’t know you had a guest. You should’ve texted me.” Taehyung’s eyes flicker from you, then to his roommate and then back to you. But once he has calmed down, he puts on a bright smile and addresses you. “I’m Taehyung by the way. I’ve seen you around campus, you’re an acting major if I remember correctly?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” you admit and return the smile. “I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N, huh? Isn’t Joshua just great at singing and composing?”
“I mean, it’s the first time I hear him sing so I can’t be the judge of that yet–” you earn a huff from the said boy but don’t react to it, “–but so far, he’s promising.”
“You hear that, Shua? You’re promising!” Taehyung beams at an irritated Joshua. “If only he was just as promised when it comes to getting a relationship,” he sighs and lays a hand on his chest as if he were in deep pain.
“Oh, cut it off, Tae. I’m perfectly fine.” Joshua rolls his eyes in a playful manner.
“Well, with this song, he definitely would have someone by his side by now,” you singsong and scrunch your nose. This was a golden opportunity to pull the former Minkyung crush card on him.
Joshua seems to take the hint and tries to silence you with a subtle glare. “Stop that–”
“He would?” Taehyung asks curiously, gaze switching from you to the other guy.
“Tae, stop asking and Y/N, don’t answer–”
“Definitely, if only things were different. Right, Shua?” you stick out your tongue at him as an act of rebellion.
By now, Joshua’s ears have taken on a shade of red and he can no longer hide his embarrassment. The scowl that follows just contributes to it. “I did not ask for this clownery.”
“Fine, I’ll leave. Have fun, you two!” Taehyung says, points finger guns at his roommate and sends him a suggestive grin before he leaves you alone and closes the door quietly.
“By the way,” Joshua speaks up a few moments later, “You’re the only one who knows the crush thing – not even Taehyung knows. So I’d really appreciate it if you kept it for yourself.”
That new information genuinely surprised you. You were quite positive that he also knew and would like to dig deeper. However, you know that he has his reasons for not confiding in his roommate so you refrain from doing so.
Instead, you just coo, “Aw, so I’m the only one trustworthy enough to know of your former crush on Minkyung. Cute.”
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You’re pretty sure you weren’t drunk last night and married a stranger you met. You’re pretty sure you didn’t even go out last night.
But the handful of people congratulating you for landing a boyfriend makes you doubt your memory.
You’re busy packing out your lunch when Seokmin startles you from behind.
“I thought I was your best friend!”
“What?” you shriek and look at him flabbergasted, spoon almost slipping out of your grip.
“I can’t believe I heard the news from someone else,” he whines and occupies the seat beside you with a hurt and slightly offended expression.
“Hold up.” you freeze and squint at him. “What are you even talking about?”
“You dating Joshua and not telling me first! That’s what I’m talking about,” he groans as if it were the most obvious thing ever and sulks even more.
This can’t be happening again for fuck’s sake–
“Joshua and I are just friends,” you explain cooly and probably for the 30th time in a span of three hours.
“Oh yeah, and that’s why Taehyung found you in Joshua’s bed and flirting with Joshua when he came home,” Seokmin grunts before he raises a questioning brow at you and leans in closer. “Unless he’s not telling the truth?”
Your jaw almost falls open.
Oh. So Taehyung, huh.
“I mean, he saw me sitting on Joshua’s bed...” you start as you recall your first meeting, “...but that doesn’t mean–”
“So you’re not denying it!” Seokmin cuts you off with a slam on the table. You flinch at the loud smack but luckily, nobody else in the cafeteria seems to notice. The place is quite loud anyway, so no one was going to pay attention to you anyway. “I’m truly happy for you but I’m also disappointed in you for not coming to me first.”
The timing couldn’t have been any better. While Seokmin resumes sulking a fucking lot, a familiar figure enters your peripheral vision. At some point, Seokmin notices your disinterest in him and follows your line of sight.
“Hey, there’s your boyfriend,” he points out.
You don’t even bother correcting him and slowly set down your spoon. “If you excuse me,” you mutter halfheartedly before you get up and walk towards Joshua, who’s standing alone.
No words need to be exchanged for you to leave the scene and talk alone in silence. Just like you, he wears desperation and tiredness on his face and you conclude that he must’ve been bombarded with congratulatory wishes too.
Once you have found a somewhat lonely spot on campus, you go straight to the point.
“Nobody is buying my words when I say it’s a misunderstanding.”
Joshua doesn’t answer right away. He takes his time to choose his words carefully and sort out his thoughts. The sigh of exasperation that leaves his lips after a while makes his frustration clearer.
“God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have–” his mind is a jumbled mess right now, you can tell, and he readjusts the glasses perched on his nose before starting anew. “Taehyung–”
“Look, it happened, okay? It’s not even your fault.” you shrug but can’t help but sigh too. “I admit, it’s annoying that everyone is now talking about it and I doubt they’ll shut up soon.”
You settle into silence. But unlike the previous times, this silence is deafening and downright heavy. There’s no comfort in this void as you just stand there and try to figure out what to say next. Normally, you would either crack a joke or resort to a different topic, but neither seem like the right option.
The silence is deafening and downright a burden and remains one even when you’re the one to speak up first.
“This may sound bad but I swear it’s not as bad as you think. Plus, I think it’s the only way to get out of this mess.”
“Hm?” is the only sound he makes to let you know that he’s listening.
“Why don’t we just go with it?”
You dare a peek at him and find him sending you wordless questions. His brows are scrunched together and he looks so helpless, trying to understand your proposal.
“Nobody will believe us if we keep denying it. We might as well act as if we were dating and after a while, break up,” you elaborate and look away. Now that you said it out loud, it’s really a ridiculous solution. It’s blatantly stupid and idiotic and the worst idea ever–
It’s the only idea you have though.
You want to say something but he beats you to it.
“So you’re saying that we should fake date.”
“Yup.”
“We just have to hold hands to make it believable and then fake a breakup. That should work out. We don’t have anything to lose anyway, now do we?” Joshua smiles weakly in an attempt to lighten the mood. You go along with it.
“Is that a yes?” you raise a brow at him, the corners of your mouth slightly tugging upwards.
His eyes twinkle as he links his arm with yours.
“I prefer boyfriend, but whatever floats your boat.”
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statsvitenskap · 5 years
Text
BONE!
my first Ace Attorney fanfic. i'm not all that good at writing fanfiction, since i'm normally the fanart type, but i saw this video by @edenleicester, and had to try it out(i changed the characters from their video a bit though. it's more or less the same). i copied most of the dialogue from this B99 clip.
link to ao3 version here.
reblogs > likes!
September XX, 20XX
XX:XX p.m.
Los Angeles Prosecutor’s Office
Klavier Gavin stood in the hallway of the Prosecutor’s Office. He and defense attorney, Apollo Justice, chatted while sipping from their drinks of choice. All was going well that day; Apollo had won his latest trial and Klavier had met another cute girl, much to Apollo’s dismay.
“Gavin,” he hissed, how do you know she's the one for you? She's probably just using you for your fame or something-”
“Nonsense, Herr Forehead!” Klavier smiled. “She's different from the others. I can tell… from her eyes.” The man's eyes went distant, as if seeing the girl in front of him then. Apollo rolled his eyes and looked away, only to choke on his water.
Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth were walking into the Prosecutor’s Office, arguing like their lives depended on it. Having spotted the men first, Apollo quickly turned away, scared for his own life. Klavier, on the other hand, smirked, knowing the younger man was scared of Miles Edgeworth, or at the very least, the prosecutor's skills. He quickly grabbed Justice's shoulder and pulled him back to where he had been standing originally. “Herr Edgeworth, Herr Wright! Guten tag! How is the lovely couple today?”
Miles Edgeworth went the slightest shade of pink at the mention of him and Wright as a couple. The poor man still wasn't used to the fact that he was Phoenix Wright’s boyfriend. However, he quickly regained his composure.
“We would actually appreciate a bit of insight from you two,” Edgeworth replied. He glared at Phoenix. “Wright and I seem to be in a bit of a…” He paused. “...predicament.”
Phoenix scoffed. “More like a fight,” earning a glare from the man beside him.
Klavier's eyes widened. When he'd wanted to mess with Apollo, he hadn't wanted to mess with his boss's relationship in the process. Apollo was standing beside him, sweating nervously. Klavier glanced at him for help, earning only a glare. “I'm sorry, sir, but we wouldn't want to get involved in your personal life-”
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “It isn't personal, it's a math problem.”
Apollo let out a series of frightened stutters while Klavier cringed. “Even worse.”
Phoenix sighed, using his free hand to massage his forehead in frustration. “Last night, Edgeworth and I had dinner together for the first time in two weeks, thanks to the cases that have been keeping us on our toes.”
“And someone thought it would be fun to spoil our date with an inane math problem,” Edgeworth interrupted, glaring at his spiky-haired partner. “to which his answer is wrong.”
“Enough foreplay, let's get to the numbers,” Apollo interrupted. Suddenly, when Klavier looked over at him, he had a notepad and pencil in hand.
“It's called the Monty Hall problem,” Edgeworth began. “Imagine you're on a game show. There are three doors, behind one of which is a car.”
Phoenix continues, “You pick a door. The host, who knows which door the car is behind, opens a different door, showing that there is nothing behind it. The host then asks if you'd like to choose another, unopened door. Should you do it?”
“No!” Edgeworth finishes.
“Yes!”
“It's simple math!” They both say at the same time.
“It doesn't make any sense to switch,” says Edgeworth. “The prize is now behind one of two doors, it's a 50/50 chance either way.”
“It's two thirds if you switch, one third if you don't. The probability locks in when you switch,” Phoenix retaliates. “We've been over this eight times!”
“Seven,” Edgeworth corrects him. “It's only been seven times. Now you can't even do simple addition.”
“Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth,” Apollo looks up from his calculations on his notepad. “but I think Mr. Wright is… well, right.”
Phoenix snickers at the pun, while Edgeworth glares at Apollo, causing the younger man to cower under the eyes of his superior. He quickly turns around, and walks out of the office. The other three men watch as he drives away.
“Wait… he was my ride!” Phoenix runs out of the office, yelling at the red sports car now far off in the distance.
Klavier grins. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, wasn't it, Herr Forehead?”
Apollo rolls his eyes and walks away to get more water.
The next day, Apollo and Klavier stood in the lobby, once again chatting. Both men had more or less forgotten about the incident of the day before. Edgeworth walked into the office alone this time, prompting a greeting from Apollo. “Good morning, Mr. Edgeworth.”
“No, it's not.” Apollo and Klavier looked at the older man in confusion. “I haven't slept because of that idiotic math problem. Now I finally understand Wright's side.”
“Ah, I see!” Klavier grinned. “So it's all better and we never have to hear about math again?” Klavier seemed to have a hatred for math that Apollo didn't quite understand.
“Quite the opposite, actually. Now, I see more than ever how incorrect he is.” Edgeworth smirked, recalling the previous night's events. (“Do I have to teach you 8th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you 7th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you-”)
The two younger men traded expressions, while Edgeworth finished, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to leave Wright a snide voicemail about teaching him kindergarten statistics.”
As Edgeworth walked away, Apollo and Klavier glanced at each other, confused. Finally Apollo shrugged. “Well, at least I didn't piss him off that time.”
“Honestly, those two just need to bone.” Klavier said to no one in particular.
“Gavin!” Apollo made a face. “That is your boss!” Klavier shrugged, smiled, and sipped at his water.
Edgeworth walked into the office the next day, only to find Apollo Justice under a table.
“Mr. Justice,” Edgeworth began, “may I ask why exactly you are… underneath a table?”
“I can't seem to find my bracelet, sir,” he replied.
Edgeworth cocked an eyebrow. “Have you seen where it went?”
“Actually,” Apollo came out from underneath the piece of furniture, holding a small diorama depicting three doors. “I think it's behind one of these doors. Why don't you pick one?” He asked, gesturing at the mini doors.
Edgeworth raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Mr. Justice, I would rather not bring this Monty Hall problem from my personal life into my work life as well. At this rate, the Monty Hall problem will take over my life in little to no time at all!” Apollo flinched and grinned awkwardly, scratching his neck.
Behind Apollo, Klavier sighed. “The math isn't the problem sir. These cases are keeping you and Wright apart. You two just need to bone.”
Apollo let out a scared whimper, and Edgeworth gave Klavier a look that left Apollo sweating, even though the look was not directed at him. “What did you say?”
“Don't say it again,” Apollo whispered, loud enough for only Klavier to hear.
Klavier smirked. “I said,” he raised his voice just barely, “you two need to bone.” Apollo flinched, and the look from Edgeworth escalated to a dark glare.
“How dare you, Prosecutor Gavin-” Edgeworth's voice raised with every word he spoke- “I am your superior prosecutor!”
With that, the man launched into a frenzy of scolding. He paced the room, later walking over to the hallway gripping the edges, and yelling, “BONE!” each time, with increasing intensity.
Nearly ten minutes later, Apollo and Klavier stood face-to-face, Edgeworth scolding the two with a dark red blush.
“What happens in my bedroom, Prosecutor Gavin, is none of your business!”
Another ten minutes later, he began yelling “BONE!” even louder than before. All the while, Apollo whimpered and curled into himself on the couch. Klavier tried to comfort him by wrapping an arm around him, though he couldn't seem to wipe that smirk off his face.
In the end, after a long time of shouting, scolding, and wildly gesticulating at the doorway, Edgeworth finally left Klavier and Apollo, Apollo’s face down on the coffee table in front of him. “Don't ever speak to me like that again.” He finished and left.
After the Chief Prosecutor had left the lobby, Apollo looked up at Klavier, hands shaking. “Your boss is so scary…”
Klavier chuckled, one hand on the other man's back. “Don't worry. He's much nicer once you get to know him.”
“Why did you do that, anyways?” Apollo whispered, leaning against Klavier.
“Herr Edgeworth was pent up. Now he knows,” Klavier grinned. “Maybe he'll actually do something about it this time around.”
Apollo sighed and put his head in his hands.
“Good afternoon, Herr Edgeworth!” Klavier grinned at the Chief Prosecutor entering the office.
Apollo sipped his water. “You're unusually late, sir. By the way, I contacted a math professor about the Monty Hall problem-”
“No need.” Edgeworth held up a hand, almost shooing the younger man away.
“You solved the problem?”
“No.”
The younger men glanced at each other from across the room. Apollo began blushing a deep red when Klavier began to ask-
“So you two-”
“Yes,” Edgeworth replied quickly and began his trek up the stairs.
Klavier grinned at the other man from across the room. A silence overcame the room until-
“Our bosses had se-”
“Shut up!”
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h-styles-babes · 7 years
Note
Can you do 13 and 23?
#13 “i could kiss you right now!”
So, I’ve combined these requests to give you this. Sorry it took a little long. I’ve been pretty busy with school, but i finally got a bit of down time to write this out. Hope you like it, and thanks for the request :) xx
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When Harry had called Y/N and asked her to meet him at a local cafe between their two flats just off campus, she figured it was just for a quick meet up like they usually did. So, she’d donned a jacket to protect against the biting cold of a late fall day in London and trekked her way the short walk from her flat to the warm shoppe.
Harry and Y/N had met their first year of uni during their very first class of the year, and they’d been pretty good mates ever since. It was the first time either of them had been in London for more than a day’s trip, both having been from other parts of England. Harry was from Holmes Chapel, a small village in Cheshire, and Y/N was from Malmesbury, a similarly small village in Wiltshire. They’d bonded over their humble upbringings and their similar tastes in music, as well as their love for baking. It also helped that they were both studying law and were in many of the same classes and made sure they were always together for any projects and study groups.
Three years in, they were thick as thieves, and they spent most of their free time together with the occasional added company of Niall, an Irishman whom Harry shared a flat with, and Y/N’s own flatmate, Penelope. Harry and Y/N remained the closest out of the bunch, though, and many mistook them for a couple, even though there’d never even been an inkling of anything other than platonic love in their friendship. They usually just laughed it off, and Y/N only really blushed when Penelope brought it up now. 
It was fair to say Y/N had a bit of a crush on Harry. She always had, really. His cheeky grin and his disarmingly green eyes were the first things she’d noticed about him the first time she saw him, and his charismatic personality and intense care for others were a close second, and that was only because he hadn’t spoken for at least ten minutes the first time they sat beside each other. The feelings she had for him got brushed aside within the first month of knowing him, though, opting for being a good friend as opposed to trying her hand at getting anything else. Looking back now, that had been the best decision she could have ever made, because Harry and her shared a bond that she didn’t even share with her mates that she’d had since she was a toothless little girl in primary. 
Y/N shook out her umbrella under the awning of the shoppe, already spying Harry through the large windows. He was at their normal table, two cups of tea already sat in front of him, and Y/N had to smile at the gesture. Harry grumbled every time Y/N stood at the counter to order, looking over the menu to find something to drink when he knew she’d just end up ordering the same thing she always did, so he took it upon himself to get it for her if he arrived first, avoiding the headache. Y/N really only did it to annoy him and see him flush a little when he got worked up over it, but she also enjoyed knowing that he knew her well enough to order what she liked. Harry had the patience of a saint when it came to anything else, but for some reason, Y/N’s ordering skills were his downfall. She found it hilarious. 
Harry ran a hand through his long curls, something Y/N had come to love. When her and Harry met, he’d had a pretty standard, shaggy haircut where the ends of his hair only really began to curl a bit, but Y/N was pretty sure he hadn’t cut it since. It was now just past his shoulders, forming full ringlets that always looked so lush and always smelled of the coconut shampoo he used in the mornings after his workouts. She’d teased him about its length when he first started growing it out, but she’d developed a soft part for his signature locks, and she quite enjoyed running her fingers through it when he’d lay his head on her lap while they were studying or watching some telly. 
“Hey, thanks for gettin’ this for me,” she said in greeting, dropping a kiss to the top of his head before she pulled out her chair. “Bloody cold out there.”
“Well, it’s December…” he reasoned, a smirk pulling at his lips. 
“Thank you, Harold. I had no idea.” Y/N rolled her eyes and blew a bit at the surface of the liquid in her mug. The scent of chai hit her in the face, and she hummed in contentment at her favourite winter-time tea. Technically, it was still only fall, but it was cold enough that she considered it to be winter. Honestly, she’d drink chai tea at any time of year, but the spicy scent from the cinnamon in it reminded her vividly of the winter months.
“How’s it going, love?” he asked, once they’d both settled. 
“Good, just finished up that essay we have due for Jameson’s class,” she shrugged. “Still gotta do the editing and resource page, but it’s done otherwise.”
“I’ve still gotta get my conclusion together,” he groaned, sitting back in his chair. He scrubbed his hands over his face before pushing one back into his hair. “Only got a few days left.”
“You’ll be fine, H,” Y/N brushed off with a wave of her hand. She knew Harry enough to know that he always stressed about things like this, only to pull through with high marks once he turned it in. She’d watched him stress and ramble about how he was going to do shit on something, only for him to pull absolute gold out of his arse and turn in an immaculate piece of work that deserved to be bloody published. It was incredibly annoying, but she found his worrying beforehand a little endearing.
“I know,” he huffed, leaning his elbows back on the table. “I’m just anxious for holiday, I think.”
They only had a week left before the term ended for Christmas and New Years, and they could feel the antsy-ness creeping up on them. Both were excited for the time off and get back to their families and have a bit of a relaxation before they went on with their last term before graduation. They were so close, but the break was much needed and felt like it couldn’t come fast enough. 
“One more week of exams and papers,” Y/N nodded. “Then we get to go home and pig out on junk and watch as much telly as we want.”
“Got my best mate’s wedding to go to, too,” Harry added, his tone suddenly becoming tense, fingers darting up to pull at his bottom lip. 
Y/N squinted her eyes at the gesture. Harry’s oral fixation only really presented itself when he was nervous about a situation. The lip pulling, biting at his bottom one with his front teeth, licking them, dragging his fingers along the corners—they were all his tells. Y/N was curious as to why he was nervous, now, though. Last she’d heard, Harry was excited about his friend’s impending wedding. He’d been asked to be a groomsman and he’d been elated to get to wear a fancy tux and spend a day with his mates from back home. She was unsure of where the nerves were suddenly coming from and why.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asked. “Yeh were so excited for the wedding just last week. Why are yeh nervous now?”
Harry cringed. He was about to have to spill his secret to his best mate at uni about the lie he’d been keeping up with his friends from back home. He’d also have to propose his ridiculous idea to her and hopefully plead his way into getting her to agree to it. He felt pretty shitty to have kept the story up for so long with his friends, but it had been innocent at first, and then just progressively gotten out of hand. He didn’t think it’d come this far, though, and he knew it was all his fault. He didn’t see a way out, really, and he was hoping Y/N would just agree so he wouldn’t be revealed as a liar at his best mate’s wedding.
“I’ve done something stupid.”
Y/N snorted. “What else is new?”
He scowled at her as she giggled over the rim of her mug. “I was only gonna tell yeh ‘cause I needed your help, but I’ll go elsewhere if you’re gonna be mean ‘bout it.”
She quelled her laughs, only a few slipping out as she apologized. “Sorry, sorry. What’s the problem, H? How can I help?”
“I may or may not have told my mates—on more than a few occasions—that I couldn’t hang out when I was back home because I was spending time with my girl.”
Y/N gave him a deadpan look. “Why on earth would yeh do that? Yeh haven’t got a girl. And can’t yeh just tell ‘em yeh broke up or summat?”
“I ran out of excuses to avoid goin’ to parties and pub crawls. My liver couldn’t handle it anymore,” he whined, a drama queen as always. “Tellin’ ‘em I had a girl was easier than just tellin’ ‘em ‘no.’”
“You’re an idiot. Still doesn’t explain why yeh can’t just tell ‘em yeh broke up. Happens in real life, H.”
“Problem is, I already told ‘em I couldn’t hang out the first night I got back because I had to pick my girl up from the train station then. Said she was visitin’ over the holidays.”
“You’re an actual idiot,” she repeated, shaking her head. Only Harry would get himself into this sort of situation with no way to back out.
“I know! I fucked up.”
“So how exactly am I supposed to help yeh?”
“Gonna need someone to go to the wedding with since I already fucked up and put down that I’d be bringing a plus one. Now I need a plus one. Just pretend to be my date.”
Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter in her chair. “You’re not asking me to pretend to be your date, Harry. I’d really be your date to the wedding. You’re asking me to pretend to be your girlfriend. The girlfriend that your dumb ass made up.”
“Yeah, alright,” he relented with a sigh. “I’m asking yeh to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for a few days. I’m going home on a Tuesday, the wedding’s on a Friday. Yeh can be back home by Saturday evening.”
“I haven’t got anything to wear to a wedding, Harry!” she protested. She was a jeans and jumpers sort of girl. The only dress she owned was one that was appropriate for job interviews and formal presentations. It was very business-like, and was definitely not something that was wedding-worthy.
“I’m sure Gem’s got something yeh can borrow,” Harry assured, already knowing his sister and Y/N were around the same size. Y/N had a few more…assets than he’d ever cared to notice about his sister, but they’d made it work before. Y/N had visited him in Holmes Chapel enough times to become friends with Gemma and swap clothes with her when need be. 
“You’re really gonna make me do this?”
“I’m not makin’ yeh do anything,” he reasoned. “I’m askin’ nicely. And you’re agreein’, because you’re my best mate and yeh love me.” He shot her a cheeky grin, hoping it would get her to agree faster. He really did have to get back to his flat to finish his paper. And he had work later in the evening, so he was in a bit of a time crunch.
“You’re really lucky that I do love yeh, Styles,” she grumbled.
“So, is that a ‘yes?’” 
“Yeah, sure. Like weddings well ‘nough.”
So that’s how she ended up on a train to Holmes Chapel with Harry the Tuesday after the beginning of their winter holiday. Anne and Gemma knew Y/N was tagging along with Harry to his mate’s wedding, but they didn’t know that she was pretending to be his girlfriend, as well. Neither his mum nor his sister were to be in attendance of the wedding, so it hadn’t been necessary to tell them. They just brushed it off as Harry asking Y/N to be his plus one and her getting to spend a little time with the Styles-Twist family during their break from school. 
Gemma wouldn’t be showing up until the next day, with instructions from Harry to bring a few dress options for Y/N. Gemma was more than happy to comply, and she promised her brother she’d bring a few things she knew his mate would like.
Harry and Y/N agreed to act as couple-y as need be in front of his friends, not uncomfortable with showing physical affection toward one another anyways, even though she huffed and rolled her eyes through a lot of the discussion, still unable to fathom just how stupid he was to have gotten himself into this mess. She’d play nice when they were around his friends, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take the piss out on him any chance she could get otherwise. 
Anne was all smiles and warm hugs when Harry and Y/N walked through her front door. Anne always loved Y/N, liking that her personality was a perfect compliment to Harry’s. She’d  once accidentally voiced her opinion that she thought Harry and Y/N would make a good couple to Harry, which he’d immediately shot down. Anne could understand that they were just good friends, but she really thought they’d be better in a romantic relationship. And she wasn’t entirely convinced that both of them weren’t attracted to the other. She saw the way Harry’s gaze would linger on Y/N whenever she was in the room, even if he was having a conversation with someone else. And she saw the way Y/N’s lips would perk up in a little grin any time Harry was around, even if he wasn’t talking to or near here at the time. Anne was pretty sure they were smitten with each other and just too blind to see it. 
Anne asked them about how school was going as she brewed up a pot of tea after they’d put their things away in Harry’s room. They took turns chatting about how studies were going and their anxiousness at finally being in their last part of school. Both Harry and Y/N would be carrying on to get their masters degrees, but it was nice to finally be done with their initial studies. They’d be qualified to get jobs in their fields, now, and actually utilize the skills they’d been learning for the last three years. They’d also be going to the same school again, still in London. They were glad to still have each other as support as they moved on to a different chapter in their lives. 
Y/N stayed in Gemma’s room that night since it was vacant, but the following day, after Gemma arrived, she stayed in Harry’s room. It wasn’t uncommon for them, sleeping in the same bed together, and no one else thought anything of it. At this point, everyone who knew Harry and Y/N were used to their comfortable dynamic. Gemma had initially teased them about sleeping in the same bed together the first time Y/N had come out to visit, but it was just that once. It was a little weird now if they didn’t share a bed.
Wednesday evening, Y/N and Harry got hooked into going to see his mates down at the local pub so they can all hang out in a relaxed environment before the wedding. Harry no longer has an excuse, since they’ve all got to meet his “girlfriend” at some point, and Y/N points out that it’ll be an easy way to get introductions out of the way. So, Harry and Y/N get dressed after supper and head down to the pub. When they’re about a block away, Y/N grabs onto Harry’s wrist, trying to get his hand out of his pocket.
“What’re yeh doing? It’s cold,” he whined. He put a jacket on before they left, but it hasn’t got any pockets, so he’d been forced to put his hands in his jeans for warmth, but it wasn’t enough. 
“Hold my hand, yeh knob,” she scoffed. “We look like we don’t even wanna be near each other.”
“That’s not true!” he protested. “We’re nearly bumping into each other, we’re walking so close together.”
“Harry, you’re super affectionate. It looks weird when someone like you isn’t touching the girlfriend they claim to care about.”
She’s got a point, Harry realized, so he easily slipped his fingers between Y/N’s dainty little ones, surprised to find them so warm. She smirked as she took their joined hands and shoved it into the large pocket of her jacket where it’s much toastier than the outside air. Harry flashes her a content grin before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
When they made it through the door of the pub, Harry immediately spotted his mates, all sat together in a large corner booth. Liam sat in the center, his arm draped around Cheryl’s shoulders, holding her close to his side. They were the ones getting married this weekend, and they looked completely content to Y/N. She knew Liam was a year older than Harry, and Cheryl was a few years older than her fiancé, but you couldn’t tell that just by looking at them, Louis was there too, sat on Liam’s other side, his girlfriend Eleanor sitting next to him, their hands intertwined on the table top. Y/N had never met them personally before, only ever seen their social media accounts via Harry and heard stories, so when the group spotted the entering the pub, all their eyes lit up with excitement to finally see Harry’s girl. 
Harry extracted his hand from Y/N’s, only to wind it around her waist and settle it on her opposite hip in a move he’d seen the other lads do with their girls numerous times. If Harry and Y/n were stood together, he’d usually just throw his arm around her shoulders, but that seemed a bit too platonic in the moment.
“Harry! Yeh made it, mate!” Louis shouted to be heard over the chatter in the pub and the music that was playing throughout the room. “Almost expected yeh to flake out on us again.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he helped Y/N slide into the booth next to Cheryl, who grinned happily at the extra female company. “Fuck off, Tommo. ‘M here, aren’t I?”
“And yeh brought your girl!” Liam shouted happily, leaning across his soon-to-be wife to get a better view of the woman Harry had walked in with. “I’m Liam, and this is me missus, Cheryl.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Y/N reciprocated with a smile as Harry slid in next to her. “I’m Y/N. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you, love,” Cheryl beamed, and Y/N was a little surprised by her Geordie accent. She knew enough about Liam and Louis, but she’d never really learned much about their partners.
The group settles into a comfortable conversation while sipping on pints. Y/N easily answers everyone’s questions, keeping everything truthful until they ask about how she and Harry got together. She honestly tells them that they met in class their first day of uni, but she knows Harry’s only been using the excuse that they’ve been dating for the last several months, so she explains that they’d been good mates for awhile until it just kind of blossomed into something more.  
Harry had been prepared to jump in and manipulate the story a little bit if need be, but Y/N was handling it well on her own, so he slung an arm across her shoulder and sat back, listening to her tell the story of their fake relationship and watching his friends fall in love with her. He wasn’t surprised, honestly. He’d fallen in love with her within a few days of knowing her. He wasn’t really sure what type of love it was, though. He found her attractive, obviously—she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met—and he hung on just about every word she said, but she’d never shown any interest in him, so he’d kept his feelings platonic. He’d take loving her as a best friend any day over muddying their relationship with feelings that might not be reciprocated. 
About two hours into their night, Liam suggested a game of darts since all the pool tables were occupied. The couples were put into teams, and Harry smirked, knowing Y/N and him were about to wipe the floor. He’d discovered in their first year that Y/N was extremely good at darts. She’d explained that her family had a dart board, and it had been a bit of an ongoing competition with her cousins over the years. Harry can’t recall a time when he’d seen her miss her target, even when she was right pissed. 
They set the game up in elimination style, so the other two couples played against each other first. Before they began, Louis called out a bet, saying that whoever won overall wouldn’t pay for their drinks for the rest of the night, the tab to be picked up by the two losing teams. It wasn’t much, but it was enough encouragement to make it an actual competitions as opposed to six people just dicking around in a bar. 
Harry and Y/N sat back as they watched the other teams due it out on the board. Y/N snickered when Cheryl tossed it and it stuck into the wall just above the board, a squeak emitting from her mouth.
“How do yeh think they’ll react when yeh go up there and throw ‘em perfectly?” Harry asked, leaning into her to mumble the words into her ear.
“Think they’ll be a little mad we hustled ‘em,” she chuckled.
Harry shrugged. “Their own damn faults for suggestin’ the game. 
“Yeah, but they didn’t know I’ve basically been trainin’ my whole life for this moment,” she joked, bumping her hip into Harry’s.
He laughed and pulled her into him, their chests flush together. Y/N sighed at the warmth his body radiated to hers. He was always so cuddly and smelled so good that it was hard for her to refrain from pressing her nose into his neck and living there. Although, since the people around them thought they were dating, she couldn’t see why she couldn’t do just that. So, she pushed up onto her toes and buried her face into the juncture between his shoulder and neck, nuzzling her nose against his skin.
His grip around her shoulders tightened and she felt more than heard the chuckle bubbling in his chest. “What are yeh doin’, pet?”
“You’re warm,” she explained, winding her own arms around his waist, under his jumper. She thought he had a t-shirt on underneath, so she was a bit surprised when she made contact with bare skin, though she didn’t pull away. He really was warm, and she was basking in it a little bit. “And yeh smell really good.” He always smelled really good, but it wasn’t often that she was able to sample it straight from the source like that.
“How much have yeh had, yeh weirdo?” he teased her, but he just pulled her body closer to his. “Usually only get this cuddly when yeh’ve had a few.”
“Only the one,” she promised. “Can’t I just enjoy your warmth? Yeh know I’m always fucking freezing.” It was true. Something about poor circulation and a normally low blood pressure meant her hands and feet were always cold, and Harry was a perfect way to warm them up.
“Oi! Love birds,” Louis called, drawing their attention. “Li and Cheryl are shit, so it’s you and us. Get your arses over here.”
Harry and Y/N parted from their embrace and walked to join their new opponents. Y/N let Harry go first to lull Eleanor and Louis into a false sense of security. Harry wasn’t bad by any means, but he was just pretty average, kind of like how El was when she went right before him. Both racked up a decent amount of points, but Louis looked cocky as he stepped up and threw the darts. He got one bullseye, which had Liam, Cheryl and Eleanor cheering. Louis smirked over his shoulder at Y/N, like he was happy to know she was watching him beat her. Harry pursed his lips together to keep from smirking and giving away his confidence that he and Y/N were definitely about to kick their asses. 
The rest of Louis’s darts were well-aimed, but none of them were as good as his first attempt. When he handed Y/N the darts after he’d retrieved them, he sent her a playfully competitive wink with a, “Good luck, love.”
Y/N rolled her eyes behind his back, and Harry chortled at her reaction. 
“Yeh’ve got this, love,” Harry called out, sending his support and encouragement, even though he knew she didn’t really need it.
Y/N smirked at him with a slight lift of one brow, her silent way of saying, “I know I do. We’re about to win free drinks for the rest of the night.”
“Yeh can move up closer if yeh want, love,” Louis called out. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was trying to be helpful or taunting with his words. She’d noticed both Eleanor and Cheryl had stood about a half a meter in front of the mark that was set into the ground for the dartboard, but she knew she’d probably do some damage if she stood that close. She threw hard enough to make he darts into the little holes the first time.
“I’m good,” she assured without looking back at him. She squared herself up and took a dart in her right hand. 
“Watch this,” Harry muttered to Liam, who had taken a place next to him when Y/N had vacated it. 
Liam furrowed his brow at Harry’s comment, but turned to look quickly when he hear the thwack of the dart hitting the board. His jaw dropped when he say it sticking out of the center red mark of the board.
“Lucky shot,” Louis called out, though he sounded a little unsure of that. Harry shook his head with a little smile. Louis had always been really competitive, since he was usually the best at whatever game they were playing. He didn’t like to be shown up, and Harry could tell Y/N’s first bullseye was getting to his friend a bit. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when the next ones she threw were just as perfect. 
“Can’t wait until you two have to buy the rest of me pints,” he continued, trying to sound more sure of himself. 
Y/N barked out a laugh, and quickly threw the remaining two, sinking them into the board right beside the first one, all well within the red mark in the center. Y/N turned to see Louis’s mouth dropped open in shock, eyes trained on the three perfectly thrown darts still wiggling a bit in the board.
“I’ll take that pint now,” she announced.
The other girls cheered while Liam laughed at Louis’s put out face. Harry hopped off his stool and gathered her in a hug, lifting her a few centimeters off the floor. He laughed joyfully as she giggled at his boisterous reaction. He knew she was going to kick their asses, but he was still giddy about watching it happen.
“I could kiss you right now!” he exclaimed, still laughing and spinning her slowly. He was so impressed by her and he really liked that she’d put Louis in his place so effortlessly. It was a beautiful thing, really, seeing her take him down a few pegs so easily.
Without thinking, he brought her down and pressed his lips to hers, capturing her bottom lip between both of his. He hummed as his eye dropped closed, feeling her soft mouth against his slightly chapped ones. 
Y/N’s eyes widened at first at the sudden kiss, taken aback by the ease with which he did it. They’d never kissed before, aside from quick pecks to the cheeks and forehead. She’d always wondered what his berry pink lips would feel like against hers, and she was pleased that they were so warm and plush. She dropped her eyes closed quickly, only now remembering that they were surrounded by people that thought they’d been dating for months, now. It would be weird if they saw anything amiss with this kiss.
Their lips parted and met again quickly, slotting them even closer together than the first time. Y/N whimpered slightly when the tip of Harry’s tongue drug lightly against her bottom lip. Harry knew that meant it was time to disengage, though, not wanting to get into anything in a crowded pub with his mates watching them. 
Harry pulled back, his hands cradling her head, and he hadn’t realized he’d moved them from her waist at any point. His breathing was stilted, grappling for breath but also at a loss for it at the same time. Y/N eyes bore into his as they looked at each other, her lips parted slightly as she seemed to try to regain her own breath. 
“Oh, shit,” she whispered, so only her and Harry would hear. What had they just done? That was no pretend kiss to appease any onlookers. That was genuine and real and had a lot of emotions she hadn’t really knew were there between them. She’d always had a crush of sorts on Harry, but she never thought it’d been reciprocated. 
“Don’t run away,” he urged, stooping to press their foreheads together. “We’ll talk about this, yeah? Just don’t run from me, pet.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Okay, Harry.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging in relief. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”
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you-andthebottlemen · 7 years
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41 - AU
Request: Hey! I just read your vampire van story and it was AMAZING! I know you've probably got loads of other stuff to work on, but if you don't mind, could you right like a follow-up sort of story to it? I really enjoyed it! It doesn't matter if you don't want to though, I get that you're probably busy! Bye xx
So, this fic is a part two to my “Vampire Van” AU, link here.
This fic was really difficult to write mostly because I don’t like vampires and also I had no clue how to make it semi-believable and not cringe. Therefore, writing a part two was a challenge, to say the least. Decided to stick to my ‘is he or isn’t he??’ type thing. But here it is! I hope those of you who liked Vampire Van enjoy it xxxx
For the lovely anon who requested, those of you who read and enjoyed the first one and for @storiesaboutvan as I know Vampire Van holds a special place in your heart.
Also, dear anon, I am busy yes but I always manage to find time to write at some point so don’t ever think that you shouldn’t request or something because I may be busy! I am here to take your requests and I love it. Thank you again!!! Xxx
*****
Head pounding, you rolled out of bed and stumbled into the foreign en-suite bathroom, taking a good few seconds to adjust to your unfamiliar surroundings. You rifled through the cabinets with blurry vision, in search of something to kill the pain. Unable to find any medication or much of anything at all, you groaned and slumped over the sink with your head down and hands firmly gripped on the basin. You breathed heavily and fought the urge to throw up. After a minute or two, you splashed your face with ice cold tap water and looked at yourself in the mirror. Makeup free, skin breaking out and definitely not fresh as a daisy, you wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for days.  
“Looking for these, love?” Van asked, leaning against the door frame sleekly and holding up a box of paracetamol with a small smirk. 
You hadn’t heard him come in, so his sudden speech made you jump. 
“Fuck, don’t creep up on me like that!” you laughed, gently slapping his arm and taking the box of tablets from him as you walked past.  
“Sorry for going through your stuff,” you added quietly.
“All good, nothin’ to hide,” he winked.
After taking the tablets, you stopped to notice that Van was fully dressed, unlike you in your underwear and a sweaty t-shirt that you’d borrowed from him late the night before. After playing another round of pool, you’d continued drinking until you decided it was a good idea to go back to Van’s place. He’d insisted on getting the taxi to take you home, but you forced him to take you to his instead. You promised you wouldn’t drunkenly seduce him so he finally agreed; though he said it wasn’t very gentlemanly of him. You just laughed and pulled him confidently by the hand into the taxi with you. He’d given you a t-shirt and after kissing you goodnight, tucked you into his bed where you fell asleep immediately, soothed by his smell and the feeling of his cold lips on your skin.
“Where’re you off to?” you asked, walking back into his bedroom and sitting on his bed.
“Nowhere,” he replied, pushing slowly between your legs, “didn’t really sleep so thought I should just get dressed.”
You smiled up at him and went for a kiss, the both of you ignoring your sour hangover breath. Strangely, you didn’t mind looking your absolute worst in front of him. Usually, on a one night stand, or whatever this was, you’d not be caught dead in their bed the next morning yet alone sweaty, hungover and looking like you’d just crawled out of a bin. But Van made you feel safe and you could tell he didn’t think you were any less beautiful than you were the night before in your makeup and fancy clothes.
After pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. His hair was neatly, yet effortlessly styled so it hung gently and curled up at the back where you presumed it was growing out after a haircut, just as it was last night. Van grinned at you, revealing those sharp teeth once again. When you saw them, you were reminded of the events of the previous night like a flashback scene in a film. Cold hands. Pointy teeth. Vampire? Nah. 
You pushed back gently on Van’s chest so you could stand up. You’d decided you wanted a shower to wash off all the dirt and grime that came with a hangover and a night of sleeping in a stranger’s bed. You rocked on the spot slightly and Van put a hand to your waist to steady you. Again, you noticed the temperature difference between his skin and yours. You looked up at him and bit your lip.
“Can I go and take a shower?”
“Of course,” he smiled, “I’ll go grab ya a towel”.
Van let you pass and watched as you walked into the bathroom, his eyes had that slightly glazed, hungry look again. It turned you on. 
“I don’t know how to use the taps in here, I think you’ll have to show me...” you said innocently though it was clear you meant the opposite.
“Is that so?” Van replied with a smirk, crossing his arms and licking his lips as you turned to face him in the doorway. 
Looking at him standing there in his navy button up with the sleeves rolled at the elbows, his chest hair showing at the top where it was loosely buttoned, you couldn’t believe your luck. Who the hell meets someone like this randomly at a bar?
“I have also completely forgotten how to use shower gel, so yeah.”
Van chuckled and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way before he walked into the bathroom behind you and turned the shower on for you both; completely forgetting to go and get some fresh towels. 
.......
Once you and Van had emerged from the haven of hot water and steam, skin on skin and lips on every square inch of each other, it was obvious the two of you wouldn’t be parting ways anytime soon. 
Still in one of his t-shirts and now a pair of boxer shorts, you sat cross-legged on his couch and flicked through the TV channels while he made tea for you. While he looked handsome and attractive in his skinny jeans, button ups and fitted jackets, seeing him in black track pants and a white t-shirt was a whole new ball game. His wet hair clung to his forehead slightly and looked darker than usual, making his pale skin stand out. 
Despite the gloom of outside and the drawn blinds, you knew it was lunchtime without even needing to check a clock. Your stomach rumbled and the hangover induced hunger made you suddenly feel ravenous. 
“I heard that,” Van commented with a smirk from the kitchen. 
“How? It was so quiet!” you responded, shocked and grabbing at your growling stomach. 
“Want something to eat?” he asked as he set down the mug of tea on a coaster in front of you. 
“Yeah sure, I can cook us something if you like?” you offered; a meal being the least you could do after all his generosity. 
“That’s sweet but uh, no ingredients. I don’t have a fridge,” he responded awkwardly, moving his hands about in a weird twitching motion. 
“Oh,” you glanced over and saw he was right; a gaping hole in the kitchen where a fridge should be. 
“Why not? you asked. 
“Don’t have much of anything. I travel a lot,” he shrugged, brushing off the question. 
“Let’s order in yeah?” he suggested, “save ya from having to get dressed to go out,” he winked.
“Sure but I’m paying,” you told him but he wouldn’t have any of it. 
You and Van sat together on the couch scrolling through menus on your phone from all the different food places nearby that would deliver. Your shoulders were pressed together and your knees touching slightly. Van turned his nose up at almost all your suggestions, yet urged you to get whatever you wanted. He was very unusual and full of contradictions. 
“Fuck. Garlic bread, yes please,” you all but moaned with hearts for eyes.
“Um. No garlic bread. Makes ya breath smell shit,” he replied quickly. 
You raised an eyebrow, confused; earlier, your hangover breath was the opposite of a big deal. 
“Okay...”
After a few more minutes of umming and ahhing over the various lunch options, Van easily settled on some ghastly looking steak and chips meal and you went with the Italian style pesto pasta. 
He stood up to call the restaurant, holding your phone to one ear and placing his other hand on his hip. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice as he ordered; you could tell he was trying to speak clearly so they’d understand his accent. While you waited, you continued to flip through TV channels looking for something interesting to pass the time with until the food arrived. 
When he was done, Van handed you back your phone with a smile and sat down beside you, wrapping one long arm around your shoulders not, minding the drips from your still wet hair. You quickly replied to the few texts that had popped up from your housemates who wondered where you were and Van picked up where you left off looking for something to watch. 
“What the fuck?” Van mumbled to himself in a high pitched voice. 
You looked up at him and followed his eyes to the TV. 
“That’s toddlers and tiaras. Fuck. I know,” you rolled your eyes and put your phone down beside you. 
Eventually, you and Van settled on some nature documentary; daytime TV was boring as all get out. You leaned more into Van’s side and he tightened his grip around you. You bit back a smile and grabbed his empty hand confidently. He drew small circles on your skin with his thumb which made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you focussed more on those tiny details than anything else; the TV was just something to look at.
.......
“You’re seriously going to eat that?” you questioned in disbelief, pointing your fork at Van’s meal. 
Van’s steak was so rare that you were convinced it was seriously undercooked. The sight of it alone made you wanna hurl. Van just shrugged and dug into the red and bloody slab of meat happily. You held back a gag. 
As you chewed on your pasta, you thought about how you were acting as though you’d known Van for months, not a number of hours in which most of them you were drunk or asleep. You glanced over at him quickly and smiled. He had his legs outstretched and crossed with his feet resting on the coffee table, mismatched socks in full view. His hair which was now dry, was fluffy and wavy, making him look slightly younger and very soft. 
“What’re you lookin’ at?” Van asked knowingly when he noticed you staring. 
“Nothin’,” you grinned back, despite the probable bits of pesto stuck between your teeth.
“Okay,” he smirked, “thought you were thinkin’ about how good looking I am.”
“Definitely not,” you replied with an equally as smug tone and a matching cheeky glint in your eye.  
Van put his now empty plate on the coffee table and turned to face you, crossing his legs under him. He ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips.
“Think maybe I like you y/n,” he said suddenly yet you weren’t taken aback. 
"I think maybe I like you too Van," you placed your bowl beside his plate, "despite the fact you don't own a fridge, you don't like garlic bread, you eat undercooked steak and you're just a little weird generally."
Van’s face flooded with an expression that was a combination of faux-offence and head over heels happiness.
“Could say the same about you y/n,” he replied. 
“Then I guess we can be a little weird, together?” you said. 
“That we can, love.”
With that, Van took your face in his cold hands and kissed you like you’d never been kissed before and you knew that falling in love with him would be completely and utterly inevitable. 
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tobns · 7 years
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so even though i literally owe no one a single explanation, i wanted to take a second while i’m not doing much of anything and...ramble, i guess, about the last month or so. feel free to look at it under the cut, and even if you don’t read all of it, just peep at the first paragraph, it’s for you!
i guess i’ll preface this by saying TO ALL OF THE NEW PEOPLE WHO’VE FOLLOWED ME OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS: hi hello welcome to my blog i’m em and i love you, you are very special and worthy and amazing and i hope you enjoy my blog and the shit i post and know i consider you a friend and am here for you always if you ever wanna talk or need someone to vent to about literally anything from real world problems to fandom feels, i got you ♡
before i begin, if you read ANY part of this below pretty pretty please send asks in my inbox telling me what you think, alright??? ‘cause i do need opinions on some stuff below, so thank you thank you thank you in advance!!!
moving along!
so, number one: as you can probably tell, writing has been kinda slim to none around here lately, and i really don’t know what to tell y’all. i don’t have any kind of grand “oh i’ve been away!” excuse, my reasoning is pretty straightforward — my motivation has been low, i’ve been putting a little more time into exploring solo muses/characters, and as of the last week or so, completely had it with certain, toxic as hell fandoms. one of my really good friends makes youtube videos and she made a video this last week i resonated so much with, where she basically talked about how she was turning youtube into a chore and wasn’t having any fun with it. she was making layouts and trying to pep herself into actually Doing Shit and when the time came, she was completely disappointed with the quality or couldn’t bring herself to finish, and i was screaming “why is this my life??” the whole damn time because i absolutely could relate to it. watching that video made me realize that a) i was turning my fic writing/video editing into something like a chore, i was beating myself up when i didn’t do something on time and could never get it done when i forced myself to work on stuff and that’s so the wrong way to go about it, and b) i’m just not really passionate about what i’m writing now. i’m not. do i love cdg/grey’s? yes, i do, and i still have every intention to finish that story. but like i said, i realized earlier that this is not my job. no one other than myself is forcing me to crank out updates, and the reason i force myself to crank out these updates is because i’m scared that if i take time away from my stuff, when i come back to it, i’ve lost a readership. and it’s incredibly, incredibly hard finding a balance — i want an audience because what’s the point in sharing my shit if no one else is looking, but at the same time i also want to take my time with stories on days where i don’t feel motivated and want to be a little lazy and still maintain that readership, not have them jump ship. i and i’ve had it happen and it completely stripped my desire to even WRITE for a fandom away, and i love grey’s too much to ever want that to happen. but of course, lately all i feel inspired to write is slexie, which died out five years ago, so my readers are slim as is. see my dilemma? it’s a hard, hard thing for me to find a perfect balance with because i either work myself into the ground or neglect it entirely, but it all comes back to the root of this: i’ve come back to terms with the fact that this is not my job, i’m not answering to anyone other than me, i don’t have a paycheck on the line, i’m not under any other restrictions other than the ones i set for myself, and i’m just overall too hard on myself when it comes to something THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. it’s supposed to be FUN. FANDOM. IS. SUPPOSED. TO. BE. FUN.
and so that’s what i’m trying to do. have fun. write the stuff i want to write because i want to write it, not because i’m feeling obligated or pressuring myself to, but because i’m passionate about it and i want to write it. the saying’s true, if you’re passionate about what you’re putting your effort into, it shows, and i think that is certainly true for all of the fics that have seen any sort of remote success, save for a couple. when my heart’s in the right place, the reactions reflect, and even though that’s a very fucking blind process for me to trust, i’m gonna trust it. 
therefore, i have a fewwwwww little things i wanna let you know about if you do follow my creations
i’ll start with the short one: videos. 
i have not been inspired to make another fucking video because, once again, i keep comparing my shit to others and just not having fun, making it into a job and thinking more about the destination rather than the journey (a very big problem i have that i’m trying to work on). if i’m passionate about it, expect me to edit it. it may not be the greatest, most wonderful video on youtube you’ve EVER SEEN, but i just wanna edit stuff that makes me happy. expect videos for fics that i’ll touch on below, expect videos with more of my favorite musicians and shows and just less of the shit i don’t really want to edit. (this is me, repeating this phrase a lot in order for it to sink into my brain and register okay)
and...now for the not so short one (i’m trying to make this as spaced out, brief and organized as possible for your reading convenience if you’re still fucking reading this lmao): fics.
cdg is the only fic i am going to go forward with updating right now out of all the ones you see on my fic page (which i’m gonna update soon) i got a super sweet review a few days ago that really made me want to keep moving forward. when you’ll see an update? i can’t say. i’m gonna rework some of my outlines and then go from there, but it will be updated. have no fear. xx
i really don’t know if any of you remember/are interested, but ever since 2013, i’ve had an ongoing fic series (the only thing i’ve ever written a sequel for EVER) that’s a hunger games x avengers crossover. the first one is atrocious, honestly, second one is only slightly better, but i’m on the third sequel and lately, i’ve just been dying to do more with it, since i’m actually feeling good about the mcu again with spiderman and the new trailer releases? the fic’s called cataclysm, you can read the first chapter (from a year ago lmao) here if you’d like; to me, this was my fun way of combining super special fandoms for me together. basically, if you want a synopsis of what i did (back 4 years ago) was essentially write katniss into the mcu films. i wrote lights out four years ago and it is...cringe, there’s a good story there if you overlook my shitty deliverance, and i’ve always been pretty proud of the tone inferno took on, even if there’s some stuff i’d like to edit and whatnot. i’m going to try and continue on with cataclysm because it’s what i’m really pumped about right now, and i’ve got a few little things i’d love for y’all to help me with:
#1 — i obviously post this on ffnet, would you like me to also post cataclysm updates to ao3?
which leads into this — if i post to ao3, would you want me to import the other two stories into ao3 as well? fair warning: i’d probably give a solid day to tweaking and editing lights out and that’s it, i could take that fic apart and rewrite it to be much better but that’s simply not something i’m interested in nor do i want to spend my time on. like i said, i wrote it 4 years ago. it’s no longer my best, it’s kind of incredibly rough around the edges, and could i have done better with crafting the storylines and making things feel a little more natural? yeah, especially now that i’ve worked her into 3+ movie storylines and have had the practice. but that’s beside the point. you’d have to essentially take it as it is and i’d probably disable comments on the first two for my own sake of mind — ao3 gives me a lot of stress and it’s why i don’t like updating on there (oh look, more confessionals!) because i feel an immense load of pressure to impress and write up to a certain bar instead of writing true to my voice. 
please don’t expect any sg fics out of me for awhile. i haven’t talked much about this since the implosion of the fandom, but i’m just not comfortable right now touching any of it with a ten foot pole. like i said, it’s not fun for me, i don’t wanna write it and i’m not about to force myself and be miserable. 
depending on where i get, i have plenty of slexie/japril fic ideas that i’d love to put into use, and we’ll see how things go!
so yeah, basically, what you should take away from this is that i’m putting a fucking finish on stressing myself out so much; i’m going to go back to focusing more on the process instead of the result, and i’m just gonna have fun with shit. i look back on my posts 5 years ago when i was writing thg fanfics and god, while i was a mess, i could tell how much fun i was having in the process and i just wanna get back to that? and that’s what i’m gonna do
i love you guys, i love creating stuff and sharing it with you guys, and i love this blog. xxxx
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