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nnight-dances · 1 year

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REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can��t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

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universitypenguin · 3 years

Note

What happened to u? U okay?

Hello!

First off, thank you for your concern. I appreciate it and I needed it after the past two days. To answer your question - I'm doing great.

I don’t have a lot of context about your question, but I’m guessing your concern is due to my recent blocking spree. A day ago, I went through my followers list and found some minors. I’ve previously seen smut fanfic writers concerned by underage people interacting with their posts. Until I had to block a few of them, I wasn’t aware how uncomfortable it would make me feel.

Since the blocking spree, I've had a lot of thoughts. I'm about to spew them everywhere. You might regret asking me if I was okay. Sorry about that. No one needs to read this whole manifesto about my rollercoaster of emotions the past few days. But in the interest of transparency, I'm posting this very long note.

What I want my readers to know is the following:

Tumblr is both a place for fanfiction and a social media site.

When I interact with followers and write explicit content, I have to be careful about what I'm saying and who I'm saying it to.

I don't intend to block or purge my followers in the future.

As long as I appropriately tag and put warnings on my work, that is adequate protection for my blog. Everything I write containing explicit content is tagged.

However, I won't interact with users who don't have an age stated in their bio.

There have to be boundaries, given the content of my writing. But I've also come around to the realization that I'm not capable of policing every interaction. Tumblr is a public forum. Minors following me makes me uncomfortable. But by the same token, my work is clearly labeled at 18+ and so is my blog.

There's a lot of explicit content out there for minors if you really think about it. In my high school freshman English class we talked about the book "The Color Purple." Believe me, that was explicit and we were only 14. Any minor with a library card and a Google browser can access a lot more intense content than what I write. I hope they're all being safe, but I can't have a melt down blocking spree again.

I'm not a cop, I'm not a parent, and what minors consume is down to them and the adult responsible for them. If I know someone is a minor I'll block them, should I notice they're trying to interact with me. Otherwise, I'm not purging my followers ever again. It's too much drama. I'd rather leave Tumblr than do that twice. I'm tired and I'm starting to work on my post graduate classes, I work full time in a demanding job, I'm in the process of editing my novel, and trying to keep up with my personal life. Quite literally, I don't have time to block. Writing fanfic is supposed to be my fun time. Let's keep it that way.

Due to the fact that some people I blocked were later unblocked after I took a closer look at their blogs, I'm posting a full explanation below. A quick summary is this:

After only writing for three months, I'd amassed 500 followers. On Monday I blocked almost 200 of them. Then I reviewed my block list and editing down some people who were prematurely blocked. [I assume the anon is one of the unblocked who had me disappear from their dash. Sorry!] This blocking thing isn't sustainable. In the future I'll run my blog differently as far as interaction goes in an effort to be responsible.

Continue reading for the saga of:

The Great Blocking Spree and Existential Crisis of an Erotic Fanfic Writer.

The Blocking Spree:

On Monday I realized a thirteen year old was following me and interacting with my work. This creeped me out.

*Commence blocking spree*

Then I realized how daunting my followers list was. I had 500 followers prior to Monday. That day I blocked about 200 people (some of them prematurely - more on that later.) So after the daunting task of trying to assume, to check bios for ages, to review blog content and determine the user's age, I was tired. Today, I even took a moment to reconsider if I wanted to use Tumblr. Because if all this is my responsibility, maybe I don't have the time or dedication to manage it. When I can be chill, I try to be. This attitude also affected by blocking. It contributed to me unblocking people. When I was doing the blocking spree, I'd give people with no age in their bio a fair shot by reviewing their posts.

I blocked some bot accounts, then a bunch of blank blogs, some ambiguous people who very well could be of age. For the first 100 followers I was pretty aggressive. Then my attention span dropped off and I was a bit more ambivalent. I realized I was doing a crappy job of moderating and wondered what the point was.

The point was that the thirteen year old interacting with my work freaked me out. When I found two sixteen year old followers, it pushed me to continue the purge.

So on I go, blocking. I'm so responsible for doing this, right? But my methodology is crap. What is context for being an adult? Someone had posted about budgeting advice. I thought the budgeting advice was too good for it not to have come from an adult. But my father's a financial advisor and to be honest, I could have given that level of advice at fifteen just from osmosis. Someone had pictures of themselves entering their marijuana plants in the Oregon State Fair. Okay, you've got to be over 18. I didn't block them. Someone else complained about their stats professor and I didn't block them. But in retrospect, one of my high school friends got permission to take college level math courses when we were seniors. She was seventeen when she had a stats professor. The thought circles back - what am I accomplishing here? Next, I went back and unblocked someone who ranted about her Tinder matches being 60 year old men. I wondered if their post was even real. I've lied on the internet before. Nonetheless, I persisted and worked through all 500 followers. When I was done I had 312 followers left.

Post Blocking Spree Existential Crisis:

I know that all the blocking in the world can't stop a teenager who wants to read smut fanfic. I'm not much for posting on social media and I'm not used to a lot of anonymous interaction online. Honestly, I got rid of my SM accounts during college when I felt it was wasting my time. This is the first time I've really use a social media site to post content since college. My twitter account is unused, my Instagram is for close personal friends only, and my TikTok is for mindless consumption of cat videos. (I've trained the algorithm to feed me only cat videos, it's great and I highly recommend it.) I don't post on TikTok, so I don't consider it full use, just lurking.

Okay, Alice, get back to the point....

Right, being anonymous on social media. My blocks are a fence and it's based on self identification from the blogs that follow me. I have little faith in underage consumers to out themselves. I have even less faith in their honesty or respect for an adult's boundaries. They're at a stage in life where they want to push the boundaries. Telling them no is all but inviting them in. I did my blocking spree because I was worried about backlash from someone's parents. But what reasonable judge would come after a fanfic writer? Come on. Logical thoughts but me emotional distress was still brewing.

Why I am the one responsible for who clicks the follow button on my blog? I've always clearly identified what I write and tagged my work as smut.

That thought snapped me out of my whirlwind of anxious thoughts. So I started looking into the laws. My regular work involves medicine, not the legal profession, so I was lost. I found some state level laws that made me glad I'd gone on a blocking spree. California and Florida have specific language in their laws about 'providing minors with explicit content.' But what exactly is that? What I researched applied to the following activities: co-writing smut fanfic with other people, sexting, roleplaying and online messaging.

I run a fanfic blog with limited interaction. I've never done an ask. I don't roleplay on here and I don't want to.

The blocks weren't personal. They were partly based on the awareness that Tumblr is an interactive site and a place that's had a problem with child pornography in the past. But I'm not the smut police. I suck at blocking, and I doubt I did a good job of purging my followers list. This is when it hit me that boundaries are only what I can enforce. They've never been about how other people relate to me, only how I relate to them. (Wow. I've never sounded more like my mother in my life...) After this thought, I started considering what actions I ought to take if I wanted to keep posting fanfic on Tumblr.

My Post Blocking Spree Clarity...

It's up to me who I interact with. I don't have to reply to every comment and re-blog, but I'd like to. I'm stuck between wanting to write for everyone and handling interactions on a social media site that's mostly anonymous.

The fact remains: I can't be the smut police because I suck at it.

What I've decided is that I'll make it very clear on my blog that this is an 18+ space where I publish erotic fanfiction. Smut will always be appropriately marked. I'm not going to interact with reviews, re-blogs, and messages from accounts who don't have their age in their profile. I won't include them in my tag list either. The internet is a public forum. Just as with publishing erotica, once it's out there online for download, it's done. As a ghost writer and an author, I don't control who buys my original fiction, which is just as spicy as my fanfiction. (Trust me, it's explicit. I once had a romance editor tell me I should dial it back on the smutty parts of a novel because "it's a lot of sex for a non-erotica market.") The key difference on Tumblr is about interaction. And that's something I can control. I can decide when I reply to other users. What brought me around to this was the realization that even after the blocking spree, I can't review every single like I get. That's an amount of time and mental energy that's beyond me. Just the past two days have been exhausting and sapped my will to write. Which sucks because I need to go write the next chapter of "Restitution" before tomorrow.

I think the reasons I went on the blocking spree are nuanced. The thirteen year old freaked me out. So did the other underaged people who had ages in their bios. But it also relates to my work. In my job I've seen some nasty child abuse cases. Early on in my career, when I was a 23 year old new hire, I was working on an autopsy for a child abuse victim who'd been murdered by their parent. It was so terrible and graphic, I had to ask one of my older colleagues to take the case. This colleague didn't like me. But she took one look at my face and took the file. She closed out the review without a question and never brought it up again to anyone. I was very grateful. Where I used to work (and where this incident took place) was a major city that holds the unfortunate title of being the human trafficking capital of the US. And something I learned working there was that most human trafficking victims go with their captors willingly. In two years at that job, I never saw one who'd been kidnapped from a dark alley like you see on TV. They were all groomed on social media and thought they were escaping their families (who were often overbearing, toxic, or dysfunctional) for a get away with friends. It was a fun adventure with their internet buddies, until it wasn't.

In retrospect, the underage interaction I found on my blog made me react because of what I've been through. The autopsy case kept coming back to me today while I was at work and I've finally untangled my emotions enough to figure out what caused my melt down. When I was blocking, I was feeling an anxious motivation that I know can only stem from the stress I deal with at my job. Don't feel sorry for me about this - I know my work in medicine helps a lot of people and it's a tremendously satisfying career.

Our Saga's Resolution & How I'm Going to Deal With This In The Future...

- - - - -

In post block clarity, I offer this conclusion:

I'm writing on a public forum. My work is appropriately tagged as smut. In the future, I will also use the tag #no minors to help with filtering. I've always asked underage people not to interact. And on a public forum, what more can I reasonably do? Going forward I will only interact with those who have their age posted in their bio. But blocking sprees and policing every interaction isn't feasible.

I'll review how I'm going to run my tag lists as well. I need to think it over and let my followers know my decision as to if I'll continue using them. Because tagging is definitely interaction and my current tag list was not screened at all. *face palm*

Finally, to my readers who have blank blogs or don't have an age listed. I respect your right to privacy and I'm careful with my personal information as well. But I've also had an uncomfortable two days. If you've lasted through this venting session until now, you must understand that I'm upset by underage interaction. I'm setting my own boundaries and going forward, I'll own my side of the internet. No interaction from me, unless I know your age. Full stop - no exceptions. I think it is reasonable for me to suggest that you leave something on your blog that signifies you are not a minor, whatever that may be. Someone who I didn't block that stands out in my memory had a bio that said "90s baby." It was simple, direct, and left no doubt they were over 18. No age reveal and not even a name. If you put something like this on your blog it'll help explicit content creators feel more comfortable about their interactions.

I went on a spree this Monday and I admit to being heavy handed and aggressive about pruning followers. I had an emotional reaction due to work stress and I didn't think things through logically. I'm relieved for the chance explain myself and set new boundaries that I'm capable of sticking to in the future. But remember - the block button is on my side of the screen. At the end of the day, you might be unhappy with me for the block, but it's my button, it's my blog, and I'll use it as I see fit.

Thank you for reading.

#tw vent #tw child abuse #tw trauma #tw violence #tw human trafficking #penguin blog update #new rules #i'm sorry #its been a long week #I almost left tumblr over this #blocking spree #clarity #smut #no minors #smut fanfiction #smut writing #smut blog #I talk about my work trauma from medicine #boundaries

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

Flower | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 2.8k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh...incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is going to be a drabble series. It’s not planned out, it has no planning. It will be written as and when I get the inspiration for it. The Flower app is inspired by the Bumble app in which women make the first move on it. This is just purely something to try and get me back into enjoying writing again so...please show it and me some love because I already love this Hoseok? I haven’t proof read lol

Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...download the app and go. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well you could get murdered. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of issues I guess. On the other hand...I could meet the love of my life. I mean...is that likely?” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers connected to your television, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself on the screen.

Your focus though, is solely on the phone in your hand. Soyeon, your best friend, had been bugging you to join some online dating sites for a while and it had only gotten worse when your other friend Chungha told her that she fully agreed with her. Part of you felt cornered by them both but another part of you understood them.

They were just looking out for you. You were naturally quiet and shy, introverted and preferring to remain inside or on the sides if you were dragged to a party. An inability to engage in small talk meant that that you struggled to make conversation with people as well. That all resulted in a small circle of friends who understood you well but that was it, everyone else was merely acquaintances who would hang out with you simply because they were friends with your friends.

As such, it meant that you struggled with dating. And by that, you mean that you hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Nor could you do flings like some of your friends did, the very thought filled you with anxiety.

This was why they had suggested trying online dating, because you’d lamented to them about how lonely you’d started to feel. You were still relatively young, and you knew that relationships weren’t the be all and end all. But when you haven’t dated since college, it starts to feel like no one is interested in you at all. And that was a hard feeling to take in.

You wanted to be like your friends. To have someone to talk to about things without feeling embarrassed, someone who would enjoy being in your company and actively seek you out, someone to be intimate with. Someone to fall in love with. It sounded cheesy and stupid but both Soyeon and Chungha had taken your concerns to heart.

They’d asked if you wanted to be set up on blind dates but the very idea of that made you lose your breath with anxiety, the fear of failure or judgement from someone who has never met you before overwhelming. So Soyeon had suggested online dating and now here you were, curled up on your couch on a Saturday night, a glass of water on the side because you don’t like alcohol and the app store open to dating apps.

“Tinder...isn’t that just for hookups?” You murmur, frowning as you look at some of the reviews. There were probably people who had managed to get lasting relationships on Tinder, but the idea of having random people actively deciding whether or not you were worth trying simply from a photo or something was horrible. Not that you had any idea how it actually worked, but still…

A few other apps look to be the more traditional online dating route and you consider whether to download one of them. But then you see an app that attracts your attention, a small soft pink and orange logo with the outline of a white flower in it. The title is simply ‘Flower’ and you take click on it to read the description.

‘Find the perfect partner and watch love or friendship bloom like a flower!

The Flower app asks you to set up a profile by asking you a series of questions to determine your interests and personality. We then set you up with a series of people we consider to be a good match and give you the opportunity to initiate a conversation!

Here at Flower, we want to make sure that dating is fun and most importantly, equal. As such, we allow women to be the one to initiate contact with their matches. This means that if you’re looking for a same sex relationship, then you can both reach out. The same goes if you don’t identify as female or male. If you’re looking for a heterosexual relationship, then you can reach out to your match and he can decide whether he wants to respond.

We don’t tolerate any form of hate speech or intolerance and will respond with quick action against this. At Flower, we promote inclusivity, diversity and tolerance. We want the world to grow and bloom with love, one relationship at a time!’

The reviews for the app seemed to back up their description and you felt curious. An impulse takes over and you download it, tongue sticking out as you wait before loading it up once it’s done. The interface is clean and take a moment to chew your lip before clicking the sign up button.

Everything seems to be rudimentary at first, asking for your age and location, name and occupation. But then it starts to ask some other questions. Your favourite film genres, a list of favourite films, your favourite books, where you’d like to go on vacation, favourite music and songs and so much more. Some of it felt bizarre, like would you rather eat chicken or beef? Would you rather drive an Audi or a Ford?

You presumed it all had a reason though, and after what felt like five minutes of answering questions, you finally had a profile. Flicking through the gallery on your phone, you found a picture that you felt was flattering while still showing your personality. It’s from a few months ago and was taken with a Polaroid camera, giving it that distinctive filter that always seemed to be flattering everyone.

You were giving a small smile, eyes looking to the left of the camera while your chin was in your hand. Nose wrinkled slightly, a soft and fluffy white cream sweater covers you while a cherry blossom scarf is wrapped elegantly round your neck. And on top of all that...a bright yellow Pikachu hat sits on top of your head.

It had been your birthday and the girls had managed to coax you out for dinner before presenting you with a bunch of presents. They’d been a random assortment, as usual, but you’d loved it all. A skin care gift set, the Pikachu hat and a Pusheen stationery set. Your colleagues at your admin assistant job had given you the side eye when you’d added yet more cute and strange things to your already colourful and cluttered desk but you’d ignore them.

This picture had been one of the best taken of you recently and you smiled gently as you made it your profile picture. You didn’t like being photographed, constantly convinced that you were unattractive but your friends were convinced otherwise.

Everything looked to be set up and you wondered what you meant to do now, when a sudden notification pops up on the screen with ‘20 Matches Found’. Sudden anxiety makes you feel sick, stomach rolling with nerves as your veins practically fizz as you click on the view more button. These were people who the app had compared your own answers to and considered to be the best matches.

There’s a tiny moment of waiting as a tiny flower in orange and pink blooms and you sigh when it finally clears. The profiles are shown in descending order with those most matched to least. A tiny refresh button in the corner let’s you see that you can refresh your matches if necessary.

Each profile shows their profile image, their name, age and location. Scrolling through them, you note idly that you seem to have got a wide range of people that you had matched with. A 24-year-old swimming instructor named Kim Chaeyoung, a 31-year-old high school English teacher named Seo Jinwoo, a 29-year-old mechanic called Park Jisoo and more.

It was interesting to see the wide range of people that had come back and you perused their profiles carefully, reading the little description they’d written for themselves along with a few answers to questions similar to what you’d had to answer. The app seemed to pull a range range of questions for you read, with each person’s being slightly different.

You supposed it meant that you would need to ask for that information and you found yourself curious about one or two people, pressing the little button that indicated it would bookmark their profile for later viewing. Apparently you had a week to make the first interaction before it would vanish.

Humming lightly, you wondered if anyone would be interested in talking to you?

Everyone looked so pretty on here and you wondered if you matched up to them. Would they consider you worth their time? Biting your lower lip, you shrug your shoulders and decided you had nothing to lose really. You didn’t know these people in real life and no one would laugh at you for simply reaching out and trying to make a connection.

You come across one profile that makes you pause though, your brow lifting in surprise as you wonder why on earth the app has matched you with this guy. The two of you don’t even look like you come from the same planet, nevermind have enough aligning interests to warrant being in your top 20 matches at the moment.

Clicking on his profile, you read through his basic info question while you purse your lips, making soft noises in your throat.

Jung Hoseok. 28 years old. IT Technician.

He sounded pretty normal and you wouldn’t even give it a second thought normally, but his appearance did not match the casual job description he had. Maybe you were just being stereotypical here, but most of the IT people in your workplace were of the nerdy looking variety. And you only say that because every one of them wore some form of Rick and Morty or other pop culture shirts.

Which you were fine with, because you enjoyed most of the same things too. But no one looked like this guy.

The reason you were so surprised was because of his profile picture, and despite your earlier thoughts about just sending messages to everyone for the sake of it, you felt a well of anxiety rising again as you looked at him. This guy is quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, the kind of guy that people only think exists when they’re rich and famous.

But he’s also completely unlike you. He’s evidently at some sort of event as he has a bottle of beer in his hand while his other hand is making the metal horns shape. One eye is closed to camera, winking while his tongue is poking out of his mouth on one side, white teeth visible beneath pink lips amidst gold skin. A silver ring pierced his lower lip on the right while a small ball is visible in his tongue.

His hair is jet black, gleaming in the crappy lighting in a messy state that looks slightly wet while his exposed skin has a sheen of sweat on it. A red and black shirt unbuttoned on him, rolled up to his elbows to reveal toned forearms that are completely covered in vibrant and bright colour.

The tattoos make what you presume to be full sleeves on both arms, his left arm appearing to be a swirling galaxyscape with brilliant galaxies, planets, moons and more interwoven with, bizarrely, dragons that are almost transparent. They look beautiful though, and you get an image of space dragons made of fine dust flying through the vast expanse of space as you look at them.

His other arm looks to be a mesh of things together, flames and flowers and skulls and ships. None of it makes any sense to you, but you’re positive it probably means something to him. One of the sleeves expands onto his hand, the one showing the horns and you eye the clock tattoo that takes up the space.

His tattoos look to expand beyond his arms as the black top beneath his shirt gives tantalising glimpses of the black and colour tattoos that obviously sprawl across his chest. Strands creep upwards, almost to his neck and you get the impression of something fiery, the soft wisps of red and orange looking like burning embers on his skin.

This guy...looked like he belonged in a metal band or tattoo shop. And he was...beautiful, way out of your league.

Which was why you had to have experienced an out of body moment when your finger presses the message button, the screen popping up with an automatic message pre filled out for you.

“Hey, Flower shows that we’re good matches so I’m reaching out to you! If you would like to talk to me, please respond!”

Scowling, you deleted the message, deciding it would be bad manners to just send the template message to someone that you were attracted to. That thought gives you pause, acknowledging that you are in fact attracted to him. He looked like the kind of guy who would take one look at your profile and laugh himself home at the prospect of doing anything with you.

The man clearly thrived on social situations, enough of his profile gave that away and again you wondered why the app matched you together. Maybe he had some secret love of Pokemon or something. Looks could be deceiving, obviously.

And even if you’d never listened to a metal song in your life...you were always open to trying new things. If you were going to open yourself up to the prospect of online dating, then you may as well go fully out of comfort zone.

Swallowing, you carefully type out a short message and spend the next five minutes reading it over as anxiety and fear swirl within you. Indecision causes you to wonder whether you should just delete it all and ignore his profile, going for the safe option of someone who looks like they’d be more accepting of you on your list.

But the allure of something so unlike you pulls you in and you press send, watching the message swoosh away and changing his profile to a soft pink to indicate that you’d initiated contact. Almost immediately you feel sick, body going cold as you pant ever so slightly.

Oh god, he’s going to read that message and take one look at your profile then delete the message. He probably had hookups all the time, the kind of guy you shouldn’t get involved with. You had no interest in being a one night stand and- you shake your head, clenching your teeth and taking a deep breath.

Stereotypes are damaging to yourself and others, you tell yourself quietly. There’s no reason to paint him with a negative brush already when he’s not even had a chance to do anything. And so what if he only wanted hookups? It was the 21st century, men and women could sleep with who they wanted, as often as they wanted and they shouldn’t face the prejudice you’re showing him already.

Before you can even think anything else though, your phone sends out a soft, melodic note and you look down with wide eyes. The message icon has an orange notification on it, signifying that you have a new message on there. Hesitating, you wonder if it’s just one of those generic ‘welcome’ messages that you sometimes get when you sign up for sites.

But the name of the sender tells you very much that it’s not a generic message, and the cold fear mixes with nervous excitement and trepidation as you see Jung Hoseok’s name. He must have already been on his phone to have responded so fast, and you wonder if he’s just sent a polite ‘thank you but no’ back.

It would be awfully nice of him if he did. Embarrassing, but polite.

Opening the message, your jaw drops and eyes widen as you read what he’s responded with.

You: Hi. I don’t know how to use this properly, so I’m sorry if I do it wrong. You showed as a match and...well I guess I say I’m interested? Not as a friend, unless you want that. I mean...the other way. Feel free to say no! Y/N

Reading it back over, you cringe at how...you it sounds. Hesitant and awkward and shy. Dammit, why couldn’t you just seize the moment and sound confident for once? Say something bold that would attract his attention.

And then you read his response.

Hoseok: Hey Y/N. Thanks for reaching out. How are you tonight?

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

six feet apart ~ jeff wittek

word count: 1320

request?: no

description: after postponing their first date for months due to a global pandemic, he comes up with a plan to finally make it happen

pairing: jeff wittek x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

The worst time to try and start dating someone new is right before a pandemic.

I decided to say fuck it and finally download Tinder. It was a strange experience, and I was sure for some time that it wasn’t going to work. But, just as I decided to delete my profile and the app, I got a notification that I had matched with someone and he had already sent me a message.

A picture of a very attractive guy popped up next to his name, Jeff Wittek. I had expected some sort of gross pick up line about wanting to fuck me, so I was pleasantly shocked to see it was a very simple, “Hi :)”.

We talked for weeks, eventually exchanging our phone numbers as well. I was really starting to like Jeff. We were trying to plan our first date when the news hit that basically the whole world was going into lockdown and quarantine to try and combat the recent pandemic. That meant that you couldn’t leave your house unless absloutely necessary, meaning either to get groceries or to go to work. You couldn’t even go to your family’s place to see them unless you were quarantining together.

So yeah, you could say I picked a bad time to try and start a relationship.

Jeff and I kept in contact, but it was starting to get hard not being able to actually see him and to pursue the relationship properly. There was no telling when the lockdown would end, or when it would be safe to go outside, so there was no telling when I’d actually be able to meet him.

I was sat at home one day, binge watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine for about the tenth time since quarantine started, when I heard a knock on my door. I was confused considering no one was supposed to be at my house, and decided to ignore it at first, until I got a text from Jeff that read, “Come answer your door”.

I practically jumped out of my seat and raced to the front door. When I opened it, I found a picnic basket on my doorstep and Jeff sitting on my lawn on a blanket with a basket of his own.

“Don’t worry, I disinfected it before knocking,” he told me as I stepped out of my house.

“What is this?” I asked, sitting on the step and taking the basket onto my lap.

“I’m tired of waiting for our first date,” he said. “And I’m not waiting until 2021 to finally meet you face to face. So, I decided to plan a social distance date - a picnic at six feet apart.”

I opened the basket and looked inside. There was sandwiches, a bottle of water, a juice box, a can of Mountain Dew, some candy, and a few fruits.

“I don’t know what kind of stuff you like,” Jeff explained, “besides the Mountain Dew, so I made basically one of every sandwich, threw in whatever fruit I had, and a bunch of drinks so you could have your pick of whatever.”

“I’ll eat just about anything,” I responded. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”

Jeff shrugged as he began to eat his first sandwich. “It was nothing.”

We were silent for some time as we began to eat. I wasn’t sure what to really talk about. Jeff and I had talked about just about everything through text, leaving it hard to talk about anything on our actual first date.

After some silent eating, Jeff finally asked, “So, how’s your quarantine going?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Kinda shitty. I’m all alone in the house, can’t go out anywhere, can’t see my friends, can’t go to work. I thought I’d love having endless time off, but it turns out I’m dying to get back to work as soon as everything ends.”

Jeff chuckled as well. “Sounds rough. At least I can technically work, even if I’m not filming my usual videos, but I understand not being able to see anyone. It’s just me and Nerf in my apartment, but I’ve been video calling my friends every so often so I don’t lose my mind.”

“Video calling only does so much it feels,” I admitted. “Even this feels...”

“Like so much?” Jeff suggested. I sighed and nodded. “I know. It really sucks. I’d love to be able to go out with you somewhere, or even have you over to my apartment.”

I rested my head in my hand and looked at Jeff. “What do you think we would’ve done after for our first date? We never really finalized the decision for it.”

The smile on his face made my heart beat faster and my stomach fill with butterflies. I couldn’t help but mirror it myself.

“I would’ve liked to take you somewhere nice,” he responded. “Somewhere that you’d be impressed with how much money I would be willing to spend on our first date.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Money doesn’t really impress me. I’d just feel bad that you would’ve spent that much on me.”

“Okay, noted. I still would’ve taken you to a nice restaurant, maybe go for a drive afterwards. It’s not a new sports car, but my truck is one of my pride and joys. I love showing it off at every moment.”

I looked up at Jeff’s old fashioned looking truck. I could see why he liked to show it off, it was a nice truck.

“I’m not into fancy sports cars either,” I said. “We could’ve went and gotten take out and went for a drive and that would’ve sufficed for me.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me, then,” Jeff decided. “So, when this whole thing is over, I’ll take you out for a drive in my truck.”

I smiled and looked down at my food, hoping to hide the blush that was creeping up on my face. Of course, I had never been in a situation like a global pandemic that led to a lockdown before, but in any case, I couldn’t remember a time when a guy went out of his way to do anything for me, let alone to set up a picnic date, and was willing to do simple dates instead of extravagant ones to try and impress me.

“You know what I really wish we could do right now?” I asked.

“What?” Jeff asked.

“I wish I could kiss you.”

We both looked at each other in silence for some time. I couldn’t believe I had said that, but it was what was on my mind. I did want to kiss Jeff, especially after talking for so long and now finally being able to see him face to face.

A small smile spread on his face as he admitted, “Yeah, I wish I could kiss you, too. Although, I’d probably be so awkward to try and make the first move.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You awkward? You’re like the hottest guy ever, I don’t know what you’d have to be nervous for.”

He laughed. “Well, I guess. I just worry about trying to kiss a girl at the wrong time, like she’s not ready for it, or just being bad at kissing. I haven’t gotten any bad reviews yet, though, so I shouldn’t worry about that.”

I chuckled. “Okay, fair point. Well, let’s just put it out there now: when we go on our first date, if you get the urge to kiss me, just do it. I definitely won’t turn you away. Quite the opposite, really.”

“Really?” I nodded in response, smiling at him. Jeff smiled back. “Okay, deal. Our first non-social distancing date, I’m gonna lay one on you the minute you get in my truck.”

I laughed, but inside I was wishing that moment could come sooner. But I knew the wait was going to make the kiss even better.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x reader #the vlog squad #vlog squad #vlog #vlog squad imagine #imagine #one shot

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write-haikyuu · 4 years

Note

could i have some hcs where Kuroo, Akaashi, and iwaizumi sit next to a bubbly and extroverted girl and one day she looked cold so they offered her jacket to her?? (because they somehow fell for her???) thank you!

ah ha here you go anon! I’m slowly attacking all these requests one by one. :-) I switched up Iwaizumi’s hc at the end, just a heads up! Also, I’m running out of manga pics to use for our boys... if anyone wants to send over cute/funny manga cuts of haikyuu characters that I could use to post, that would be really nice!!! uwu trying to keep the theme of manga pieces going on hehe.

Kuroo Tetsurou

post grad au kuroo here!

Kuroo doesn’t seem like the type to just randomly see a girl on a street and immediately fall for her since intelligence and familiarity are what really turns him on. So really, the only way you actually surfaced his mind was the fact that the two of you were in the same cohort for med school, studying internal medicine together.

Understandably, med school was intense. It was natural for you to run late for class, rush in while chewing on toast, or even sometimes bed hair.

Kuroo who is used to your tardiness doesn’t mind really! In fact, he kind of finds it hilarious you waltz with your hair messy and scrubs wrinkly (speak for himself, he’s equally as tardy sometimes)

Well, it wasn’t that you were an unkempt person, it's just-- med school was extremely competitive and intense. To make up for all the times you’d come in late, you would always bring him an extra snack or share with him your notes. Hell, the both of you shared notes because the curriculum was so dense; it took at least two people to process a lecture. That’s how he got to know you better!

Study dates. Platonic, intense, and long study dates. The two of you developed this unbreakable bond that consisted of crying together, pulling all-nighters together, sneaking in full MEALS to the lecture together. Kuroo kept telling himself that he had no time for a relationship through med school, but being around you, he couldn’t help but play with the idea of it because there were days where you made those questionable “why-did-i-go-to-med-school” nights so much more bearable. He loved you for that.

You’re late. Again.

You arrive in scrubs to the library for another study date and the AC is turned on to a blast. Neither one of you pays mind to it because there’s an exam coming up. You and Kuroo were just focused on hitting the books.

It’s crunch time baby.

But it’s 3am. And Kuroo is hungry again. He runs over to the vending machine to grab another snack (something about snacks with this man) but he comes back to see you passed out against the textbooks, your arms fully exposed to goosebumps from the running AC.

He just pauses and holds his breath because he’s in awe how you managed to pass out so quickly and how peaceful you looked. So he drapes his jacket around you and silently studies next to you until you wake up a nap. He can’t help but glance over you once in a while to check in on you though.

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi’s a third-year now. Bokuto and all the other third years have graduated so he sits on the metro by himself now (I KNOW YOU’RE CRYING BC I AM)

So on the first day of his third year, he takes the metro by himself and practically zones himself out with music until he stops arrives. He doesn’t even notice you sitting next to him with a Fukurodani uniform as well. Or even if he did, he would just keep it to himself.

It would be this thing where he would always be on the ride before you, and together you both ended up walking to school. The first time it happened, both of you walked at an equal pace, it was so awkward for him to see someone walk to the same campus with him but not be able to say a single word the whole way

You were actually the first to break the ice! One day you finally decide to not bring your earphones with you on the ride

“Whatcha listening to?” you tapped his shoulder

He quickly perks up and the two of you end up talking about music together

It begins! Slowly, but surely, “hello” waves and small talk started to occur more often, to conversations about midterms and upcoming events...

He started to really look forward to his mornings now. Always waiting for you waltz in and share your story for the day.

Akaashi doesn’t say much, but he’s constantly always thinking. Even when you have to vent to him about how rough things are for you, he somehow always comforts you with his profound and encouraging words. There was this really subtle but thrilling tension between the two of you. Light brushes against your hand, unconventional bumps to your knees, intimacy to share space in a crowded train...

You forget your blazer one day, and it also happens to be quite windy/rainy as well.

Walking to school together, he immediately catches on and hands you his blazer.

“Akaashi, I can’t take this”

“You’re going to catch a cold” he protested

You can’t really argue with him because he knew you were freezing

It fits you so loosely, and he can’t help but look away and blush as the image of you in his blazer remains in his head throughout the day. He insists you keep it on for the rest of the day.

He doesn’t even care that he gets in trouble for not coming to school with a full uniform! He’s just looking forward to see you get his jacket back afterschool.

Iwaizumi Hajime

The two of you are sitting on the bleachers at a volleyball game, cheering for Aoba Johsai’s final match at the inter-high tournament.

As alumni, Iwaizumi wasn’t expecting to see one of his former classmates come and cheer for a high school volleyball game like this, considering that he thought it was just him and his former teammates that were into it as he was.

Not going to lie, Iwaizumi recognized you before. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You were always the most outspoken, cheerful, and participative student in class back then. He won’t admit it to you ever, but he did admire how kind you always were to everyone in the class. Not to mention, he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked today, considering that you both weren’t in uniform.

But Iwaizumi isn’t really the type to make big moves either. It’s not that he’s afraid of girls or anything, he’s just a tad shy and has no experience with women either (he’s working on that though, Makki and Mattsun made him a tinder recently... against his will hehe)

Anyways, back to the game.

It’s the third set, and Seijoh is about to break the score, and the other team calls for a time out.

“What?! Time out at a point like this?!” You struck your hands out and bumped into him. It kind of throws him off a little, but you immediately apologize, and as you look up to recognize who it is. You broke into a smile and immediately greeted him. The two of you start a small talk and he explains to you why it's critical for the opposing team to take a “time-out” to break Seijoh’s flow.

“Well fuck. That won’t break their mentality” You scoffed

His heart just skipped a beat.

The two of end up cheering yelling for the team as they took the final set. Iwaizumi was so hyped for their team to go to nationals, he accidentally spilled his water onto you. He’s the one apologizing now, so as an apology, he lends you his jacket to cover you up from the mess.

The game ends, and the two of you walk out together. He feels terrible. Like so bad because he really never thought one of his first experiences with his old crush would be as disastrous as it was (by no means must Oikawa find out).

“You can make it up to me by taking me out on a date” You grinned as you returned his jacket. You waved goodbye and clung onto your best friend, walking away into a distance.

Iwaizumi is a flustered mess. Somehow he manages to make it home, with the note of your number saved in his pocket. :)

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sweet-xoxo-thatcares · 3 years

Text

Pan? Polysexual sounds better now

Back to guys, gay girls, nonbinaries, pan, bi, gender-fluid, and queer people.

I might have to take a recap on matches who are trans for right now,

I still have a lot to learn about what my true identity is for right now.

Because I really can't stick to just one label...

Aye, that's just me. And dating apps are starting to feel like a job, there's too many people matching with me and trying to remember names is getting a lot to handle when you're on 3 different apps and about 20 conversations going at the same time. And still 99 people waiting on you to swipe right on them, on each one. And plus I'm not as picky about looks as I was before, so I'm mostly reading just bios, analyzing photos to see what could be their interests in, and making sure I'm not being too passive on red flags when people talk to you.

I will admit, I still swipe right on them if they're trans and I'm attracted to them. I just know me, I'd rather date someone who was fully transitioned or somebody who is still on the nonbinary, before part. Only because I know me.

I had to watch someone I had already grown into getting to know and getting attached to, and then when I finally got comfortable with them for over a yr, they changed that drastically during those 3months we were separate and I had no idea about it.....I'm not sure if I could watch it happen before my eyes. Cause then I would have to miss the way they were before, because of my attraction to their naturally mixed feminine/masculine looking features and actions. So, ideally I wouldn't have changed anything about them.

I don't wanna grow attached to a voice or a face or a body that will no longer be there tomorrow. I know that person before is still in there, but it's different when you're romantically attracted to them, been intimate with them vs when you're just a friend. My experience shocked and scared my paranoia and fear of change. I remember crying when my dad started growing white and grey hairs in his beard. Cause I never want my dad to change, cause I've grown up with him being this strong man that always was there for me, held me, made me feel safe, calmed me down when I had my moments, and tucked me in when I wanted to feel comfortable. He showed me that he always loved me, always cared about me, and that he was never gonna leave me. As if he's never gonna die during my time on this earth. Seeing his greyishly, white hairs, I thought death and that my daddy will soon no longer be the fun, happy, strong dad that I've always been with as his princess. And that's kind of what vibe this particular person was to me, even though they weren't as smart, strong, or always there for me....cause most of the time my nights alone cause they couldn't or didn't know I needed them to be there fo r me like that to feel loved or just to feel wanted. Cause I couldn't speak up.

But now, that they has turned into a he. I feel like its brutally denying me to chance to not only say goodbye to them as they, but I would have to get reacquainted to HE, with a totally different name, maybe different personality, maybe different sexuality, and I won't know if I like the new evolved version of this person. The fear of the unknown is high for me. Especially when there's a 40% rate of fems that decided to change their sexual orientation after taking testosterone. I 'm possessive about my partners and I would hate to know that after seeing this person physically change and go through so much emotional/mental changes that one day they decide "Hey, I think I like men now, I wanna give this a shot. Could we make this work?"

I would tell Him, to go right ahead and go on a date with that coworker or guy on Tinder/Grinder. But I'm not gonna be here when you come home. Because to me that's some bullshit. And I've known this person well enough to know, that they don't mind using other people to meet their sexual needs that I can't possibly give them due to my actual gender and my body as such. I wouldn't want to share my partner, nor watch them get fucked by another man...because I'm not a man, im a woman...theres a huuuuuugggeeee difference.

And if it ever came to that point 3 yrs later and He became someone I didn't know anymore, because of the hormones changing how they feel as a man, dysphoria gone....I get it, you've hated yourself for years and now you're happy in the dream body you always asked for. But, I would be scared to lose you, to whoever else you decide to open up to in your selections. Cause you're that type to leave to please you and not make it work. I don't want somebody who changes their mind all the time about who they wanna be, who else do they wanna smash, and who else they can flirt with. That's cheater mentality.

And I'm sorry trans community that I'm basing my recent experience with someone as the example for the rest of you. Because I know there are some ftm's who've already changed and stayed with their partners. I just don't know if I could trust this process, knowing the effects, the research on whether or not they become completely detached to women or become bisexual... I can't.

And I'm thankful for the ftm's that have been posting youtube videos and tiktoks for viewers like me who are curious about the possible cons, and physical or emotional changes they've overcome. I was shocked the first time I ever watched a bandaged ftm, who finally unrevealed their scars from top surgery. I've always been preparing myself for this. Because I knew one day, that this cute, fluffy, soft skinned, white latino looking, but really just mixed mocha, nonbinary person was gonna be...changed over a year or so. I thought I could prepare for it, so that when it does happen it doesn't hurt as much to watch to them in pain if the bleeding from the scars are irritating them or if one day they're super cranky and obnoxious for what seems to be no reason. Or if one day they end up feeling they dont need anybody like Zanthos, with the 4 avenger rings lol.

But I'm too damn fucking sensitive. I was born this way. I've always prepared myself with the worst and the best information, that way when it does happen, the tidal wave of emotions from the reaction, doesn't end up torching my soul or blowing me out the water. Cause I am gay. I adore women, men, and when I met this person I loved them as an in-betweener as nonbinary. They are so brutally harsh, twisted, manipulative, jealous, and possesive. But I've always liked that they had these emotions inside of them that they hold back because they don't wanna seem so soft, always hiding this feminine quality about them because ideally, they're pretty looking, gorgeous eyes that can turn black cold like obsidian, and those fucking cheeks and cat nose. I've only seen the slight hips, but I didn't mind it. And they've always hid their body away even when we would try to have sex. I knew the dysphoria was there, cause again I prepared myself to be patient and kind.

So, I'm glad they're turning a new leaf to make themselves feel more confident about being recognized in society as a full, grown ass man. I'm pretty sure HE, is gonna get cocky af, cause that's just the way he was when they were they.

I know it's selfish of me to say, but I'm afraid of what will happen down the line years later. But that's just me being afraid. If He ends up not liking me anymore, I know it won't be the end of the world and I walked away at the right time when I did. Because this person is currently separated from me, and I'm still insecure about that part too. Not knowing how they are during this transition for what may become years or not...I hope HE is doing okay and not piercing everyone with their new, world domination, ego.

I just don't wanna imagine them get fucked by a guy....sorry that's just me. And will their buttery ass kisses, still be as sweet anymore?

Will I be ok with HE having chest hair?

Will I love the sound of their new voice or will I just hate it, while still missing the old, brodie, sexy, slightly feminine voice?

Especially when they used to go all soft and cuddly on me over the phone, it was soooo cuteeee. I miss our phone and text conversations.

Will they grow into another relationship with somebody else because they started to become unattached and unattracted to my body, my tits, my hips, my vagina even....just because they completely changed their identity?

And I still a woman? I've only thought about wearing a binder a couple of times, and yes, I do watch ftm and trans porn because I did like the fantasy of being intimate with someone who had a bigger clit size or just having a big clit of my own that felt like a dick.

I'm willing to admit that. Because let's be honest, boys get away with so much more shit as a male, compared to us females.

I wish I could grow a dick overnight and nobody not know I'm still a chick! Lol, but I still don't like the all over hair body growth and I still want my vagina back. Like a rental suit with an actual dick and no tits. Those are the onllyyyyyyyyy things I've thought about, but would never admit out loud. Only because I still like my body and my gender identity as is. I feel like the blue girl from X-Men could get away with it, cause she can be anybody she wants to and go back to being herself at the end of the day. And still camouflage behind walls. Lucky chick. Especially if she could teleport, oh he'll yeah.

It's gonna take me awhile to get over this, so please be patient with me. As I'm trying not to cry as I watch my ftm porn get fucked by a guy. Cause I used to be heavy into it, now I feel wrong for watching it and then I'm reminded "40% chance, you're watching it" 😞🤮😫

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midnightbluefox · 5 years

Photo

The Reylo Writing Den ( @thereylowritingden ) recently celebrated its one year anniversary, and part of our celebration included a fic exchange! The theme this time was what makes Reylo special to you and what you’ve come to love in the fics that you’ve read or written. Favorite tropes or one you’ve wanted to see done, an idea you’ve been wanting to read, a twist on the first Reylo fic you fell in love with, etc.

Because of the theme, we got a huge variety of fics written submitted by over forty extremely talented writers. Please enjoy and support our lovely and giving authors <3

+ fic is mature/explicit

* fic is a WIP/ currently incomplete

________________________

+ Night Music by @thelastmorozova for @3todream3 : Kylo getting it on with Rey while still wearing his gloves and helmet.

+* This Game We Play by @midnightbluefox for @sand-its-everywhere : Rey’s always thought her roommate was attractive, but when she catches him with only a towel on, a contest slowly ensues to see who can drive the other more insane as time goes on.

Or, where Rey and Ben are both idiots in denial and refuse to give in.

+* Red Letter by @ohwise1ne for crossingwinter : His old name—the one no one calls him anymore, no one even knows—stretches in bold lettering across the front of the envelope.

There is no record of that person living in this apartment building. Ben has made sure of it.

They’ve found him anyway.

When Ben is summoned to be bonded with a compatible Alpha mate, everything he’s worked for comes crashing down—especially when she turns out to be the rising protégé of his enemy.

+* When Little Somethings Overturn Everything by CaffeinatedJediRey for @rrwilson66 : Rey's got it all: fantastic friends, a great mother, and a promising tenure-track job as a history professor. Yet, on the eve of her 31st birthday, Rey finds herself wondering where her life's headed while she's eating by herself after a conference presentation.

Ben Solo, a rival professor from her department, joins her for dinner after seeing her dining alone. He turns out to be more than she expects.

Let's just say things will not go the way Rey thinks they will.

+* Clear Skies by @eveningeyes for CaffeinatedJediRey : A handsome smuggler is found sneaking through Starkiller Base, and to Kira Ren's dismay, Snoke hires the guy to take her to find Leia Organa's secret Resistance base.

INTERGALACTIC ROAD TRIP 2019]

+ A Five Percent Chance by @sand-its-everywhere for @hellomelusine : Ben is alone, and he likes it that way. He keeps to himself, and doesn't really want or need a relationship, but that doesn't stop his mother from trying to set him up with random people... until one day she sets him up with his childhood best friend... and both of them make it their mission for this to be the worst date ever... after all, they've got one hundred dollars promised to them by Leia if it is.

Blushing PINK by @tazwren for @kylotrashforever : Ben Solo is struck by a beautiful girl, for the first time in his life, but has no clue how to talk to her. Enter a friend who gives him highly questionable advice.

Or - how Ben Solo bought bags of lingerie for a non-existent girlfriend!

+ Fucking PINK by @tazwren for @kylotrashforever: Ben and Rey and all those bags of lingerie he bought.

Or - how Ben Solo is a virgin no more.

+* Delicate Matters by @kylotrashforever for @erney007 : His senses trickle back in, and he realizes something is covering his face. Reaching, he snatches the gauzy material that he recognizes is lace of some sort, holding it out in front of him and squinting his eyes.

What the fuck?

He knows without a doubt, with one hundred percent certainty, that he did not have a woman here last night.

So why the fuck is there a pair of women’s underwear on his face?

In which something falls into Ben’s lap (or more accurately his face) that he didn’t expect.

+* is this a sacrifice? by @deadlikemoi for @kylosgirl9593 : "What are you giving up for Lent?" The question is posed to Rey by a friend of Rose's, a girl who goes by KK, and Rey has to search her mind for an answer.

That is the problem with going to a University that is religiously affiliated; most people assume that you follow that same tenet without bothering to ask, and it has gotten her into trouble more than a few times.

"Rey's not—" Finn tries to save her, it is a valiant effort, but the filter between her mouth and her brain is undergoing routine maintenance and a few words squeak through before she can stop herself.

"Sex. I'm giving up sex for Lent."

+ Bobbing Along by @polkadotdotdotreylo for @sweetkyloren : Ever since an incident as a child, Rey has had a fear of the water.

When your boyfriend owns a pool, who better to teach you how to swim?

+ A Poetic Match by @commandercrouton for @polkadotdotdotreylo : It didn’t matter who was here at the moment. The only thing Rey could focus on was that scent. Her wide hazel eyes circled the room as she tried to see the one who was emitting those delectable pheromones. How was no one else in this room reacting? The smell was making her crazy, and she dug her nails into her skin. She would know this scent anywhere.

She found him frozen by the podium, staring at her with the same look she knew she was giving him. She felt her thighs clench in anticipation as memories of their last, and only, time together filled her brain.

“Rey, is everything okay? Your scent...shifted,” Poe inquired tentatively.

“What?” she asked, not willing to take her eyes off the man in front of the room.

“Why is Professor Solo staring at you like you killed his pet cat?”

At this statement, Rey looked at Poe, realization dawning on her. No, not this, anything but this. This wasn’t a professor. He was something entirely different to her.

Alpha.

+* By The Moonlight by @my-jedi-life for @eveningeyes : Kylo Ren is being hailed as the "next Stan Lee" in the world of graphic novelists... but he holds a secret. His books are really about his life.

Rey Kenobi is an up and coming journalist who lands the interview of a lifetime with Kylo Ren.

* Black Ties & White Lies by @happilyeveraftereveryday for @looc-at-me : The plan was simple. Sneak in, kick Paige's ex-boyfriend's ass, then sneak out. But Rey did not plan on arguing with an unfairly hot but unsurprisingly elitist Greek god of a man while looking for said ex-boyfriend, especially when he took offense to her refusing to dance with him for some reason.

And she definitely didn't plan on kissing him.

Or how a masquerade party leads to unexpected actions, feelings, and consequences, along with Ben Solo's Cinderella dashing away without even leaving him a shoe behind. Nevertheless, he's determined to find her.

+* Your Eyes (Are Holding Up the Sky) by @em-is-writing for DagaGada : Ben Solo life is falling apart (as much as one high school senior's life can) - he's failing Pre-Calculus, has been put on academic probation, and can't play on the basketball team until he pulls his grades up. When he's assigned a tutor, he thinks this will be an unmitigated disaster. Life has other plans.

+ But Not To Me by @littlethingsfic for ArdeaJestin : “…Ben?”

He memorizes every detail of her face — flushed cheeks, creased brows, dark eyelashes, wisps of loose hair — framed by the eerie quiet of their destruction. His body is restless like it might burst at the seams, thrilled and dazed by her, by their conquest, by their…

He searches for the words to say but everything sounds wrong. He charges in and decides not to say anything at all,

“Rey, I don’t care about the kriffing fleet —”

He grabs her and kisses her hard.

+ Cheers to Phasma’s Flaming Vibrator by @3todream3 for @rakefiree : An unfortunate office fire has caused renovations, and the ever punctual Ben Solo has to share an office with Rey Johnson with whom he has a history. He just wish he could remember what he did to piss her off. She apparently doesn't like him much and annoys him with Candy Crush and other little things, not letting him get any work done. Being cooped up in the small office is going to be the death of Ben. What on earth could happen when tempers flare and hormones go crazy???

+* Seven Days with my Toes in the Sand by @erney007 for @em-is-writing : Memory in his dream, emptiness in his hand, with his toes in the sand. Will she be the one who shows him how to love again?

Desert Magic by @roguesinside for @spiegatrixlestrange : He was hungry, always so hungry. He sweated through the sheets when he dreamed of the desert sun. Shivered under piles of blanket when the sand was lit only by the moons. He tried to magic up an apple, a glass of cool water but the lifeforce around him was so dim that the simple charm wasted away in the desert sand.

The dreams saved him.

+ Oh Captain, My Captain by @elleren31 for @littlethingsfic : In the midst of the Civil War, telegraph officer Captain Samuel Beckwith returns to Washington D.C. and is immediately taken by a beautiful young farmwoman. But love in a time of war can be difficult, especially when you work for the President of the United States.

Historical accuracy AND inaccuracies. Earns its rating later on.

+* Royal Blood by @sweetkyloren for @deadlikemoi : Rey has lived on the streets of Aldera for as long as she can remember but when an aide to Queen Leia takes Rey under her wing she finds herself living a life most can only dream about.

In the years that follow, Rey soon finds herself falling for her two best friends who also happen to be the two heirs to the throne: Ben and Kylo.

+ Ready For It? by @rrwilson66 for @elleren31 : A tale as old as time, the story of a beast of a killer and a beautiful thief fighting to be together.

+* Unrequited by @rakefiree for @reyloandotherfandoms : Ben loves Rey. Rey loves Ben.

He thinks she loves someone else. She thinks he knows how she feels and doesn't reciprocate the feelings.

What happens when they are trapped in the same house for a weekend?

Welcome to Ben and Rey Pain Train! We have a dog... and stuff.

+* Swipes and Seduction (a tinder AU) by @galaxytrueffle for @tazwren : “Ben.” Was still a faceless and detail-less individuum on tinder. Thus he needed to add his career, height and a little text- before rounding up his introduction with a photograph.

Ben. Corporate lawyer. 189 cm.

What else was there to say about him?

“Hi. I am Ben. 32 years old. I work as a tax lawyer for a well known automotive company. My wife died and now I am a single parent- I work all the time and have literally no hobbies beside working out, one weekly WoW session and spending time with my child on the weekends. Oh- and I haven’t had sex for ages. So if you are interested- match me?”

That is what he should have written- the reality.

But- this was the internet...he didn’t have to be so honest. Especially not in the beginning.

.....

IT’S A MATCH!

You and Rey<3 have liked each other.

+* Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost by @loveofescapism for @reyloner : “Okay, what if you do find them and they send you away?”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, and for once he looked like he was genuinely curious to hear her answer. Which, if he wasn’t pissing her off so much, she would have answered much nicer than she did.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’m their daughter?” she said sarcastically, “They had a good reason for giving me up, you’ll see.”

---

Rey is traveling the world to find her birth parents after her guardian Maz passes way. She was excited to rediscover herself and more importantly, where she came from. The only thing she wasn't excited about, was the fact that Ben Solo was tagging along for the journey, his pen and notebook in hand.

+ A wonderous place for you and me by @kylosgirl9593 for @galaxytrueffle : It's Ben Solo's 30th birthday and his friends decide to throw him a little 'Party’ Rey however has a few *special* presents for Ben. ------------ Ben laid on the ground, hands up in surrender. Rey had one foot on his chest, pinning him down to the ground, he could easily take her down, but he had to accept his defeat.“You had to know this was coming. You just had to. You couldn’t run from me forever, Solo,” she said as she pointed the gun to his chest. She smiled in victory. “Game over.” She pulled the trigger and the green laser beamed through the barrel. The sound of Pac-Man dying filled the room.

+ Close Encounters by @deedreamer for @loveofescapism : It’s like Rey's own personal porn reel is playing against the inside of her lids. Her body is reacting without her permission.

She sucks in a breath and re-crosses her legs, suddenly feeling a tingling sensation at her center. Her nipples harden and strain against the fabric of her bra and the silky material of her shell is cool against her belly, making the sensation even more extreme.

Rey feels her chest and cheeks flush, and she wonders if she looks as hot and bothered as she feels. Because that would be really embarrassing. She’s a professional, for God’s sake.

+* Don’t You Forget About Me by @rebelrebelreylo for @my-jedi-life : He wrote the letter ten years ago, but it’s still burning a hole in his pocket.

—

Dear Mr. Skywalker, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are.

You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions.

But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…

And an athlete…

And a basket case…

A prince…

And a criminal.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely — The Breakfast Club.

—

A Breakfast Club AU with not-quite-neat-parallels written for MyJediLife for the Reylo Writing Den Anniversary Exchange. (Yes — Rey is more Bender than anyone else.)

+* A Year of Me and You by crossingwinter for @kylolita : “After you move in with one another, give yourself six months to like one another again,” Maz says, looking at Rey seriously through her bottlecap glasses.

“I’m not going to fall out of love with—”

“No, no. Not love. Love’s not got anything to do with it, child. Like.”

Non-linear vignettes of various length, set during the first year Rey and Ben live together.

Ben’s Body by @shewhospeakswiththunder for @thelastmorozova : AU. Rey is an up and coming sculptor specialising in human shape and form. Her new next door neighbour has a body to die for and she's determined to preserve it in marble forever. Now she just has to convince dashing and reclusive Ben to model for her.

Preferably naked.

+* Sounds of Passion by DagaGada for @rebelrebelreylo : The Sound of Music Modern AU. The two actors meet in the theater production. He's Von Trapp and she's Maria. He's a big star who got roped into it by his mother, who owns the theater. She's fresh out of Juilliard.

Will they go past their hate at first sight? What if the heated fight turns into something different but equally heated? Will they find passion for theatre and each other together?

* Grabbing Your Attention in Detention for @shewhospeakswiththunder by @ashtyntaytertot : Ben is a troubled teen in high school and Rey doesn't like him because of that, but he likes her. A lot.

+ Let Me Put My Darkness In You by ArdeaJestin for @terestriel : Hux catches his boss composing love poems, attempts to wreak havoc, and wonders why smartphones don't exist.

+* At the Stroke of Midnight by @bunilicious for @midnightbluefox : He knew.

The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, and it was only the warmth of his hand on her elbow that kept her upright. How else could she explain the determination beneath his soulful gaze?

He was iron, wrapped in the finest velvet.

“Rey,” Ben spoke at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yes, she wanted to scream. I am the masked woman who waltzed with you underneath the moonlight. The one who ran away when the clock struck twelve. The one who lost her shoe at the foot of the stairs.

But he had to say it first. He had to.

“Rey.” He took a deep breath, eyes fixed upon her expectant face. “I need you to help me find her.”

Her dreams were made of glass. And in that moment they had shattered.

-------

A REYLO VICTORIAN / CINDERELLA AU

+* Ravenous by @aknightofwren for @bunilicious : 38 ABY. Nearly four decades since the Battle of Yavin. The greatest of all great wars has finally come to an end. The Resistance has been disbanded, allowing those seeking comfort and security among their ranks to finally pursue the lives they had always dreamt of. But something sinister is lurking in the lush greens of the Forest Moon of Endor, something that not even the Skywalker's could have seen coming.

+ Shape of you by @looc-at-me for @deedreamer : Ben Solo has been babysitting a group of grumpy old men who are often referred to as immortal rock legends for nearly two years and he's at his wits end. Deciding to spend the last concert of The Vaders worldwide tour on the ground floor with the other fans instead of backstage, Ben manages to meet a brown-haired beauty and they instantly connect before a family secret resurfaces.

+* Refuse Me by @kylolita for @aknightofwren : It’s the most contact she’s received in years, since her Grandpa was still alive.

This Alpha’s touch is electric, completely unfamiliar but just what she needs. Her eyes automatically find his, they are molten brown, and everything in her wants to examine those eyes forever and-

What am I doing? some sensible part of her screams at herself. Whatever he bids, another part answers.

Rey’s plan to live her life to the fullest as an Alpha falls apart when a classmate discovers her secret.

* And There You Were by @reyloandotherfandoms for @happilyeveraftereveryday : The phone rings in the middle of the night, and it's some man Rey doesn't know, demanding to speak to someone whose name she does not recognize. Why she doesn't just hang up on him is beyond her.

But she doesn't.

+* Love Potions and Legalities by @hellomelusine for @ohwise1ne : When Kylo Ren, best Law Enforcement Warlock on Leia Organa-Solo's team, is tasked with apprehending a girl, untrained, but blatantly brewing and selling illegal love potions, he's less than enthused, the task beneath his station. What he expects and what he gets are two wildly different things when he finally breezes into Rey's shop in the desert town of Niima, Jakku.

+* Kingdom for a Kiss by @reyloner for @commandercrouton : “His name day is only moonturn away — there’s to be a great feast in his honour. And, best of all, a tourney he’ll be sure to compete in. He’s a good jouster — I have faith in his victory.” She leans in, a sly smile working alighting her elegant features. “Winning make men bold. It warms the blood, inflates their egos. It makes my Husband insufferable and my son want to celebrate.”

“Oh.” Rey frowns. “How can you be sure he’ll win?”

“I cannot.” Leia admits. “But I can hope.”

Lady Rey Kenobi, the last surviving member of a once great house, is to wed the future King of Naboo.

Only, Prince Benjamin Amidala seems determined to avoid her at all costs - even in consummating the marriage.

+* No Deliverance by @orkindofamazing for @ashtyntaytertot : Kylo Ren had seen beauty, witnessed the splendor of creation and the power of destruction, was well acquainted with desire and longing. Yet none of it compared to the strength and beauty of the tempest he was witnessing here.

The only thing he understood with any degree of certainty was the fact that he inexplicably wanted to be closer. In a trance-like state, he advanced, and his feet seemed to move across the ground of their own volition.

Kylo Ren wasn't very good at being a demon, but then he hadn't been a very successful angel, either. However, when he is sent to tempt and bind an immortal named Rey, it's a challenge unlike anything he's faced before.

+ Art for You Octopi My Heart by @spiegatrixlestrange for @orkindofamazing : An art gift for an amazing person.

Every single one of these fics was so wonderful and we are so lucky to have such talented people in our discord server! A huge thanks to everyone who participated, we can’t wait to do the next one!

#reylo #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #reylo fic #reylo modern au #reylo abo #reylo smut #reylo art #reylo fanfic #the reylo writing den #reylo discord #reylo fic exchange

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years

Text

Nothing Serious: Parts 1-3

With all your friends having married themselves off, having kids and getting boring, you turn to Tinder to fill your time. When you match with a familiar face, you quickly realise you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. (Modern Sugar Daddy AU).

Pairing: Roger Taylor x f!Reader Warnings: Filth, angst, daddy kink, morbid humour, strictly 18+. Notes: This was originally posted on my Queen blog (BoRhapRogerina) before I deleted it. If you’re new here, welcome. If you’ve read this before, I’ve reworked this quite substantially. I’m planning on finishing all of my fics for NaNoWriMo this year, so stay tuned for updates on all my WIPs!

[1/4]

It was a Friday evening, and you had just got off work. Not that you had plans.

All your friends had partnered up and gone away on romantic weekends away.

Leaving you alone, with no plans.

On the plus side, you had a laundry list of shows to binge watch, and a full fridge of goodies, that would most likely last until Saturday morning. If you were lucky.

Flopping down on the couch, you fired up the first show on your list and settled down, fully prepared to fester for two days. Bliss, you thought, absentmindedly opening Tinder for a glimpse of what could be. If you could stomach the dating game.

You must have swiped left on a hundred people in the space of ten minutes, never bothering to read their self absorbed ‘about me’ sections, or to look at more of their photos. Until Roger (37 years old, 20 kilometres away) caught your eye.

He was handsome. Recently divorced. And a musician.

He looked familiar, too.

But 37 was too old. Curiosity got the better of you when you set your search parameters, casting the net as wide as possible to see what the app would throw up.

It threw up Roger.

He was too old.

But too intriguing to reject.

So you swiped right.

And then went back to your show.

The Umbrella Academy wasn’t boring, per se, but every now and again, your eyes would be drawn towards your phone on the coffee table. You wondered whether Roger had noticed you. Surely not.

When the first episode was over, you padded through to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. You couldn’t help but kick yourself for not giving his profile enough attention. He caught you by surprise and you didn’t fully absorb his profile. Apart from the obvious. You swiped right without thinking. And now, he was all you could think about.

What did he do for a living? Did he have kids? Was his ex-wife a total nutter?

You stood, drumming your fingertips against the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Until you heard your phone vibrate.

Never in your life had you moved so fast, darting through to the living room and almost knocking over a lamp. You picked up your phone and looked at your notifications. Sure enough, there it was, ‘you have matched with Roger.’

Throwing yourself back on to the couch, you could feel your cheeks burning. It felt utterly alien to you to even match with someone you were actually attracted to, so you were determined to make a good impression. Staring up at the ceiling, your lips moved slowly, trying to verbalise what you were going to open with and all the ways you could woo him straight off the bat. A simple, ‘how are you?’ wasn’t going to suffice.

‘How YOU doin’ tonight?’ Uncool.

‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Boring.

‘If you were a cocktail, what would you be?’ Better.

And then your phone vibrated again.

You looked down to see a notification flash up and disappear. ‘Roger has sent you a message.’

Your stomach churned. They never messaged first. At least he was keen, you thought, unlocking your phone to read what he had sent.

‘If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.’

You snorted, feeling your face burn up even more. It was a stinker of a line. A stinker that somehow made your heart flutter.

Just as you were hovering your thumbs over your keyboard to type a response, another message popped up.

‘Sorry, that was rotten.’

And another.

‘It’s really nice to match with you. Any plans for the weekend?’

He stole your boring line.

Game on!

[2/4]

You and Roger spent the entire weekend messaging back and forth about everything from your favourite films to your favourite holiday destinations (he cited dirty weekends away at his villa - wherever that was - as a top pick). It turned out he was charming, witty and ever so slightly filthy, without being disrespectful. Despite your qualms about his age, you were aching to see if he was as enthralling in real life.

It was Monday morning. Sat at your desk, you desperately clung to any focus you could muster for your work. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help wondering when Roger's next message would appear. You prayed it would be soon. You had a mountain of paperwork to do, but precisely zero focus to follow through.

By midday, you lost hope.

Maybe he was too good to be true? Perhaps your joke about being ‘An Old Man Fucker’ was a step too far?

Packing up your desk to go to lunch, you decided to leave your phone behind. But as you walked away, you heard it vibrate.

You darted back to your desk and grabbed your phone.

Roger had a funny habit of appearing on your phone, just as you were about to do something. You scanned his latest offering.

‘What’s the difference between a tyre and 365 used condoms?’

Even without a punchline, it earned a giggle, which in turn earned you disapproving looks from your colleagues. You hurriedly tapped out a quick, ‘I don’t know,’ before stowing your phone in your pocket and following the mass exodus to the canteen.

Your heart felt like it was going to escape from your chest as you waited for the punchline to yet another dirty joke.

His response came quickly: ‘One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a great year! Doing anything nice tonight, gorgeous? Hope you're having a lovely day! I hate Mondays :(’

———————————————————————————————————

A few hours later, you were sprawled on the sofa, bouncing your leg impatiently. A typical weeknight consisted of a quick change into your pyjamas, scarfing down instant noodles and a side of hating the single life.

But not tonight. Roger was coming over. And you were determined to impress.

You had swapped your joggers and a plain old t-shirt for a short, black tea dress. Makeup on. Hair done. You even wore a bra; a rarity at home.

The seconds ticked by at an impossibly slow rate and Roger was late. He said he'd be there for seven. It was five past.

You got up to pace back and forth across the living room. Your mind wandered, anticipating what your evening with Roger would entail.

What would you talk about? You had covered a lot of ground over the weekend.

Would you watch a film? You knew he was into sci-fi. You could do sci-fi. Get drunk? On a school night, really? Maybe not.

Sleep with him?

That last question stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to. That was precisely the reason you joined Tinder, as tough as it was to admit. After speaking to him all weekend, you actually kind of liked him. But you just didn’t know him that well.

Your brain felt like it had just run a marathon when there was a knock at the door.

It made your stomach drop, and your legs turn to jelly as you scrambled to answer it; your mind blank and exhausted. With a deep breath, you turned the handle and cracked the door open, peering out into the hall.

Roger peeked through the gap, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hi,” he beamed. "Sorry, I'm late."

You flung the door open, eyeing him with a shy smirk. “Hi." That was all you could muster.

Roger quickly pulled you into him, squeezing you tightly. “It’s so nice to meet you,” he mumbled against your hair.

He smelled incredible. Like sandalwood and pine forests, enticing you to bury your face against his collarbone. “And you,” you sighed.

All those worries in your head melted away, but there was something between both of your bodies. Breaking away from Roger’s embrace, you looked down to find a bunch of flowers and two bottles of wine tucked into the crook of his arm. You gazed up at him, forgetting how to form sentences. It seemed like he did too.

Luckily he noticed your stare trailing down to the flowers and the wine. Red and white. He rocked on his feet, remembering what was happening. “Oh! These are for you. Couldn’t come empty-handed and I wasn’t sure…” He babbled, passing them to you.

“They’re perfect," you smiled, waving him inside, "Come in.”

You led roger through the hall and into the living room, motioning him towards the couch. “Make yourself at home. What do you want to drink?”

Roger shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”

The kitchen felt like it was worlds away, granting you a short reprieve from Roger’s company. He was so much more handsome in real life, you thought, rifling through your cupboards. So handsome, in fact, that you had forgotten when you kept your wine glasses. “The ones above the sink, fuck,” you grumbled to yourself, throwing open the cupboard and snatching the glasses. You tried to even yourself out with what little time alone you had, pressing your hands into the edge of the counter and bowing your head. Deep breaths.

A clatter from the living room pulled you back to reality. You hastily dunked the flowers in the sink and grabbed your drinks, to see what the commotion in the living room was.

When you got back to Roger, you found him picking some records up off the floor.

Roger looked up at you wearing a coy smirk. “Sorry. Had to make sure you weren’t a crazy fan.”

You gave an awkward laugh, wandering past him.

“It’s happened before,” he added, getting to his feet and giving a shrug. “You’ve got good taste though.”

“I thought you looked familiar.” You sat the bottle and the glasses down on the coffee table and joined him over by your boxes of records.

He skimmed through your collection. “I can’t believe people still buy these,” Roger laughed, taking out a copy of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born in the USA.’ “Don’t tell me this is some new hipster wanker thing? Buying LPs?” he asked, eyeing you with his eyebrows raised.

You snatched the record from his grasp, screwing up your features. “I’ll have you know, vinyl is far superior.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Yeah, with all that crackling and popping, it’s bound to sound better.”

“It’s all about the listening experience,” you sneered, taking the record out of its slipcase and placing it on the turntable. “You can’t be passive when you’re listening to records. It gives you more of a chance to absorb it.”

“I believe you,” Roger chuckled.

“You haven’t told me what kind of music Queen play,” you added, waltzing back to the sofa.

Roger flopped down next to you, watching as you poured his drink and handed it to him. As he was about to take a sip, his eyes narrowed. “Do you know something? I’m shocked you haven’t heard of us.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, glaring at him.

“Well, you’ve got the music taste of a forty-year-old man for starters.”

You choked on your wine. He was on to you. But now wasn’t the time to tell him you had spent the entire weekend researching his band. Or the shame you felt when you realised how big they were. Or that you had overlooked them this long. Or that you loved their work. “Maybe you’re just not that good,” you grinned.

Roger shrugged. “That’s just one woman’s opinion, I suppose.”

“I suppose it is.”

“I’m glad, actually.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not into me because I’m a rockstar.”

“But it helps,” you admitted.

Roger smirked. “You’ve got a thing for musicians? Never would have guessed.”

“You could say that.”

“So why are you on Tinder?” Roger asked, turning side on to face you. “I’m assuming picking up handsome drummers ranks pretty highly.”

“Well,” you began, moving closer to him, “all I wanted was an easy lay if I'm honest.”

The corners of Roger’s mouth perked up into a devilish smile upon hearing those words. “You know, out of all the members of a band, drummers are definitely the easiest. Speaking from experience.”

Your stomach fluttered. But you just couldn’t stop yourself. You weren’t even drunk yet. “Are you?”

Roger’s face was dangerously close to your’s at this point, his nose was practically pressed against yours. “Don’t you want to know what I want?” he prodded.

“Not particularly. No.”

“I love a girl who knows what she wants,” Roger chuckled, drawing his calloused fingers along your jawline, tilting your face up ever so slightly. Roger wasted no time in replacing his fingers with his lips, pressing kisses along your jaw, before settling on your mouth. His hand was firm at the back of your neck, pulling you into him.

You put up little resistance when things became heated, slinking over his lap to deepen the kiss.

Roger’s hands squeezed at your thighs when your tongue slipped past his lips. He was feverish, needy, almost, in the way that he kneaded your flesh, letting out breathless gasps.

The feeling that things were moving too fast began to claw at your gut. Your movements slowed, eventually breaking away from Roger.

“Are you ok?” he asked, sweeping a stray strand of hair behind your ears. His eyes moved across your features. They were loaded with concern.

More aware of the music playing in the background than before, you moved in time to the last few bars of ‘Downbound Train.’ “I’m fine,” you whispered.

Roger took your hand and kissed your palm. His eyes saddened, peeking through your fingers. “Are you sure?”

You didn’t respond. All you could do was take Roger’s hand as you scrambled to your feet. Leading him out into the centre of the living room, you pulled him into you, swaying along to ‘I’m On Fire.’ “Do you like dancing, Roger?”

Roger gave a quiet laugh and pressed his nose to yours. “Only if I have the right partner.”

You danced slowly, intimately, until Side A spun out, leaving the pair of you rocking aimlessly away in silence. Your face rested against his chest, revelling in his scent. His arms bound you to him, and his chin perched on top of your head. And for just a second, you thought you had died and gone to heaven.

“Tell me something,” Roger said, breaking the quiet calm. “Are you really just looking for an easy lay?”

You continued to dance in circles while you thought up a response. Your heart was beating frantically at the thought you might have been wrong about what you wanted. “I don’t know. Are you just looking for the odd dirty weekend at your villa?”

Roger’s chest rattled with a warm laugh. “Touché. Are you going to flip that record or are we gonna dance in silence all night?”

You groaned into his shirt at the thought. It was near impossible. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to move away from Roger.

So he did it for you. He moved over to your record player and flipped the album over on to side B, while you got to work on refilling your glasses. “I love this song,” Roger said, nodding in approval.

“Are you a big Springsteen fan?” you asked, handing his glass back to him.

“Yeah, I mean I like the E-Street band more than the stuff he did on his own. But his songs just resonate a lot with me.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you said, raising your glass.

Your glasses clinked together. And then your brain decided to remind you that this was your first date. The nerves were back. For both of you.

The quicker either of you set about drinking more, the faster any awkwardness between you could dissipate. Before you knew it, you were on your fifth glass. And you had worked your way through yet another of Springsteen’s albums, ‘Nebraska.’

You and Roger sat side by side giggling away on the couch, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It had you conflicted, though. Not wanting to come on too strong, or be too intense. But you weren’t keen on being sidelined by Roger. He was handsome, witty and it was so easy for you to feel comfortable around him. You could see yourself being happy with him; you felt it in your gut that he was more than the easy lay you wanted. But there was so much you needed to know. Your mind raced. And your face sank.

Roger noticed and he softened his gaze, running his fingers through your hair.

“What exactly are you looking for, Roger?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” Roger slurred.

You nodded.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“I hate being on my own. I don’t want it to be that way.”

“I get that.”

“Now what do you want?” Roger asked, jabbing his finger against your chest. “Really want.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing your motivations weren’t so different to his. “I hate being alone too,” you admitted, not being able to look at him. Instead, you stretched out your arms lazily. “Guess that makes us a pair of losers.”

Roger looked away, his eyes misting over. “Guess it does.”

Roger’s sudden, sullen demeanour had you desperate to change the subject. “So where is this villa of your’s and how dirty are we talking?”

“What villa?”

Your heart sank. “You said you had a villa.”

“I have more than one, but I like the one in Ibiza the best.”

Your mind became a hamster wheel, wondering just how rich Roger was. “You have more than one?”

Roger was nonchalant as he shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “I have the filthiest times in Ibiza, but I’m not averse to the one in LA. Especially in the winter. I hate the cold.”

“How filthy do I have to be for you to take me out there?” you joked.

Roger snorted. “I reckon I could turn you into an absolute whore.”

“Well that sounds like fun.”

“You look like you could use a holiday.”

[3/3]

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing as you waited patiently by the window. Pressing your knuckles to your lips, you paced, keeping your eyes trained on the street below. Roger would be here any minute now. A suitcase and a bag sat beside the door, containing everything you thought you needed for your trip.

It had taken you three days to make the decision. You lay in bed every night since Monday, wide awake, trying to suss him out.

It was insanity at best, agreeing to it. But, you knew it wouldn’t exactly be a conventional romance anyway.

He made you laugh and put you at ease. And you would be lying if you claimed he didn’t make you smile exactly when you needed it. One particular remark - 'that villa’s where I keep all ten of my wives, chained up in the basement' - that was the kicker. It tipped the scales all the way to a resounding ‘yes’ from you.

‘Any time now,’ you repeated to yourself, trying to block out the racket of your phone. You had lost count of the number of frantic messages from your friends. All of them tried to dissuade you. But the backflips your stomach did when a strange, black Mercedes slipped into view told you everything you needed to know.

Grabbing your handbag and your suitcase, you burst from your flat, trundling your brimming case noisily down the stairs. Your heart felt like it was working overtime as you flung open the front door.

A chauffeur stood by the back door of the car as Roger fell out on to the street, beaming at you.

“There she is!” He stretched out his linen-clad arms, ushering you into a hug. He felt even softer and smelled even better than he did on Monday. He certainly hugged you tighter, propping his chin up on your head. “You all set?” he mumbled, kissing your hair.

“God, I’m so nervous," you squeaked.

Roger held you away from him. From underneath his dark tinted lenses, you could tell his eyes were darting over the windows of the flats behind you, searching for intrusive gazes and curtain pullers. Then his attention snapped back to you, a look of seriousness cloaking his features as he gripped your shoulders just a little bit tighter. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. It’s your trip, you can enjoy it however you want.” He paused, looking down. The corners of his mouth perking up. “And I’m a bit nervous too, actually.”

Shattering the moment into millions of tiny fragments, the chauffeur cleared his throat audibly. “I’ve just put your suitcase in the boot, Miss. We should be going soon.”

“Yeah, thanks Lewis,” Roger piped up.

The pair of you bundled yourselves into the back seat. The saloon was cramped, unaided by you and Roger’s need to sit almost on top of each other. Both of you searched for something to say, but, over the week, you seemed to have covered everything in your texts and long-winded phone calls. From Queen’s creative differences in the studio to stakeholders messing you about at work with their half-baked briefs and their fake deadlines. You touched on it all. And now, you were wondering what else there was to say, as your knee constantly knocked against Roger’s.

Your thoughts turned to spending an entire flight in his company. How awkward that might be if you didn’t find something. And fast.

Luckily, the townscape whizzed past you at breakneck speed. You had only spent the longest ten minutes of your life in the car beside him before it was navigating its way through the airport complex. A wave of relief loosened you up, seeing the ‘drop off’ sign straight ahead. But those hoped were dashed when the chauffeur bypassed it.

“I think you’ve missed the drop-off,” you said, leaning towards the driver.

“Oh, he never misses,” Roger smirked, focusing on the view from his window.

You sank back, furrowing your brow as the car pulled up to a security barrier. You couldn’t quite pick up on what Lewis was saying, but it was enough to grant him access.

Your jaw dropped as the car rounded the corner on to the tarmac. “How the hell are you able to do that?” you asked, turning to Roger. “What about security? Baggage-”

Roger laughed, placing his arm around you. “When you’re in one of the world’s biggest rock bands, normal airport procedure doesn’t really apply, darling. But if you’re shocked by this, wait until you see the plane.”

“The plane?”

Roger pointed to the small plan directly in front of the car. “That plane.”

Your eyes widened. “You own that?”

“Well, it’s chartered. It’s very nice inside, though. Comes with a couple of stewardesses.”

It turns out ‘nice’ was an understatement. Never in your life had you seen that level of classless opulence. Your eyes were on everything as Roger led you into the cabin. Every gold accent, every marble surface, every red leather seat. Complete with two blonde and beautiful stewardesses who handed you a glass of champagne each. It was jarring, tacky and screamed ‘money.’

You followed Roger to the middle of the aircraft, where he threw himself on to one of the sofas with a relieved groan, sprawling out like a starfish. You roamed towards the bathroom, swigging away at your champagne, your mind overloaded by the situation. You poked your head inside the obnoxiously pristine cubicle. Ryanair hadn’t a patch on this. You could throw an entire orgy in here, and still have room for a few more. There was even a bottle of lube and a bowl of condoms sat on the counter. You had a feeling people like Roger used the plane for just that. “You could easily join the mile high club in here,” you thought aloud.

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t touch anything if I were you. Steven Tyler was in here last week. God knows what he gets up to.”

“Lovely,” you replied, sauntering back to Roger.

“I’m glad you like it." Roger observed you throwing back the rest of your drink. “You look like you needed that.”

You simpered, not wanting to meet Roger’s line of sight. “I did. And I think I’m going to need more.”

“More’s definitely good,” he laughed.

Without him asking, one of the stewardesses brought over a bottle, bending down at the waist to present it to Roger. It granted you both an impressive view of her cleavage. But Roger was having none of it. “That’ll be everything, thank you, Claudia,” Roger said, taking the bottle from her, his attention still on you.

Roger’s shirt was unbuttoned down to his chest, and your head had somehow found itself resting on his bare skin. You gazed up at him while he poured you both drinks and slipped your glass back into your hand.

Settling into a comfortable position as the plane took to the skies, Roger’s arm found its way around your shoulders and his lips littered kisses over your forehead between sips of his drink.

“You must be loaded,” you pondered. “How many years have Queen been going?”

“Well over twenty now, I think, why?”

“You must have seen a lot.”

“I’ve seen everything,” Roger chuckled.

“Where’s your favourite place in the world?”

“Hm, that a tough one. I love Japan. It always has this amazing energy to it. It’s brimming with people, everywhere, but it still manages to have a lot of calm about it. And the food? God, it’s delicious. Could eat Japanese food all the time.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Never would have thought that about you.”

“I’ll take you out there someday, you’ll love it.”

“Bet the industry’s changed a lot from when you started out,” you mused, turning from your side to your back.

Roger’s arm dropped around your waist. “You have no idea. It’s sort of soul destroying. All this streaming business," he began. You hung on his every word. "If people really knew how little we get from that, I hope they’d think twice and just buy a bloody album like they used to. I’ve seen a lot of good bands go under because they can’t afford to live.”

“And how have Queen lasted this long?”

“Because we’re not just ‘good.’ We’re more than that.” He sighed, draining another glass. “I’m glad we made our millions and constantly toured in those early days. Enough to outlast everyone else in the long run. Now, we can do what we like. God, I sound like I’m giving an interview.”

“I like hearing you ramble, by the way,” you encouraged. “Bet you’ve met some crazy ones though.”

“Some of them can be intense… yeah, but-”

“And you’re out there on Tinder for the world to see. Dating women half your age,” you jibed, sitting up straight. You turned around, looking at him. His cheeks were flushed as he nodded away, agreeing with everything that came out of your mouth. “How have you not ended up dead, yet?”

Roger batted his hand through the air. “No one pays any attention to the drummer. It’s that rotter, Freddie, everybody fawns over! And besides,” Roger paused, moving just inches away from your face, “You’re not planning to kill me, are you, darling?”

“How would you know?”

Something in Roger’s demeanour changed. His sleepy, half-lidded eyes turned glassy. Sinking in on himself, he looked away. “I’m a good judge of character. Or at least I hope I am, after everything.”

Unsure of whether your newfound courage was down to the champagne or the chip in Roger’s happy-go-lucky facade, you felt emboldened to ask. “Is this about the divorce?”

Sure, you had done your research. The internet was awash with gossip about his drawn out, acrimonious divorce from his wife of ten years. The vitriol. The scandal. But you wanted to hear his side of it.

Roger nodded.

Backing away, your hands fumbled in your lap. You crossed the line. Too much too soon. How could that possibly have been the case with you and Roger was anyone’s guess, but the silence that fell over you two had you eyeing the emergency exit, wondering if you could survive a 27,000-foot drop.

“Put some music on, will you, darling,” Roger said, taking your empty glass and refilling it. “Anything you like. Just plug your phone in.” He nodded towards a towering sound system at the back of the plane.

You went over to it and pulled out your phone. You felt like an idiot, but you had already made a playlist loaded with songs that reminded you of him. All before your time. Your finger hovered over the shuffle button, deliberating whether to put it on. You gave in and hit the button, letting the first few bars of Moonage Daydream to pour from the speakers, making the cabin vibrate.

“I love this song,” Roger said quietly.

You turned back to him, feeling the rush of nervousness in your chest, seeing the way he stared at you. Aided by the champagne, you began to dance. You could feel his gaze relishing every inch of you and the way you moved. The way you swept through the blistering rays that shone through the windows. The halo it created around you.

“Aren’t you going to dance with me?” you pouted, nearing the end of the track.

“I prefer watching you, darling,” Roger said, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes.

“What if I put on something you’ll really like?” you pushed with another quick twirl.

“Try me.”

You went back over to the sound system and scrolled through the collection of songs, pressing play on the perfect number. You glanced over your shoulder at Roger’s reaction.

“Cover Me?” Roger asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m tempted.”

You shimmied over to him.

His foot, tapped away. His fingers drummed against the back of the sofa. A smirk on his lips as he looked up at you. “You’re gonna have to make me.”

You accepted the challenge.

In one fell swoop, you grabbed his shirt collar and hauled him to his feet, sending the remainder of its buttons popping free.

Roger quietly stood in front of you, dying to break out in a fit of hysterics. He desperately wanted to move with you. Instead, he made you do all the work.

But that was how you wanted it to play out. You wanted to be in control. To tease. He was so strung out that even the feeling of your fingertips curling through the hair on his chest made his breathing hitch. You prowled around him, working the fabric down his arms, pressing into his shoulders. “You’re so tense,” you remarked. “Don’t tell me I got you all worked up this fast.”

“You should be so lucky,” Roger quipped, attempting to play it cool. Full circle, you stalked into view again. His expression flipped from a broad grin to a look of false seriousness.

“That’s funny,” you began, pressing yourself into him, “because that cock of yours feels pretty hard to me. Did you like what you saw?”

Roger still wore a wicked smirk, trying to avoid eye contact. Instead, he concentrated on something over your shoulder, leaving you both in silence for a moment.

Then, when you least expected it, he barged past you, seizing your hand on the way to the back of the plane. He dragged you all the way to the bathroom. Bundling you inside and slamming the door closed.

Before you knew it, you were sandwiched between Roger and the counter.

His hands shook, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, distracting himself with nipping at the sensitive skin on your neck. And taunting you. “So you like teasing me, Princess?” He murmured, yanking your shirt off.

Your fingers snaked into Roger’s hair, while your free hand took the opportunity to ghost over his cock through his jeans. “You’re easy to tease.”

Your sass was short-lived; Roger had taken to pinching your nipples through your bra, in time to his lips marking you up. It made you throw yourself back against the mirror, granting him easier access to the rest of you.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, moving lower over your chest.

All you could do was tug your lower lip between your teeth, watching as he made his way down. Your bra was gone before you knew it, and his hands had already found their way to the zipper on your jeans. Roger kneeled down, lavishing your stomach with slow wet kisses, looking up at you through his lashes. His fingers clawed at your waistband, dragging them lower - your underwear with them - into a pool around your ankles.

You could feel that need spreading through you like wildfire. You struggled, even just to breathe, driving your hips against Roger’s efforts. Your fingers laced into his hair. It was a feeble effort at leading him to where you really needed him.

Of course, Roger noticed, smiling to himself. He grasped at your thighs, causing you to falter. “I can’t wait to taste you, Princess. Would you like that?”

“Yes please,” you sang, clutching the edge of the counter for support.

“Hop up there. Let’s get a good look at you.”

Without missing a beat, you hauled yourself atop the freezing marble counter, lewdly presenting yourself.

He seemed like all his Christmases had come at once. Like he wasn’t sure where to look, or even where to place his hands. They just skimmed, ponderously over your inner thighs, never quite going anywhere.

“Are you going to keep gawping at it, Roger?”

That drew a response out of him. The realisation that he was required to actually do something, rather than admire you for hours. Not that he would have minded. “Right, boss,” he grinned. He settled between your legs, dragging his thumb over your slick, pink folds, savouring just how aroused you were. “So pretty,” he remarked, before leaning in.

One long, lazy lap of you was all it took for all your inhibitions to melt away. Those tense and taut muscles in every part of your body loosened, while Roger’s mouth devoured and savoured every dripping wet inch of you. And then an almighty shockwave hit you. Roger’s tongue circled your clit, stringing you out again, forcing a surprised moan from you.

Roger’s quiet chuckles reverberated through you like tiny aftershocks.

It had you wondering what his next trick was.

He was hellbent on making quick work of you, his tongue zeroing in on your sensitive little nub, making you writhe against him. Ratcheting up your pleasure until it felt like all your nerves were on fire. And then slipping a finger inside you. And then another. And another. Curling them in on themselves, like they were daring you to claw at Roger’s hair with just a little bit more aggression. Daring you to howl louder for him.

“You love having that tight little cunt of yours stretched, don’t you, Princess?” Roger taunted, moving back to look up at you, his chin glistening.

“Yes,” you sighed.

You could feel your orgasm beginning to build. You weren’t exactly in control of your body or the things that came out of your mouth. But the words that tumbled from them shocked you, urging him on. “Just like that, Daddy.” It was as if your body had been torn in half out of shame and pure ecstasy.

Roger never said anything about it. In fact, you could practically feel him grinning as his mouth delved back down to finish what he had started.

“Oh, god, Daddy, I’m so close.” There it was again.

It raised nothing but a giggle from Roger.

Between that, his mouth and his fingers, you were teetering on the brink of something wonderful.

“Repeat it, Princess,” Roger urged, “tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Da-”

Before you could finish that sentence, you lost control, viciously trembling on Roger’s fingers.

You still saw stars when you came to. Roger had flipped you over, leaving you face to face with your own reflection. He was fumbling away in the background with a condom wrapper. “That was amazing,” you panted, burying your face in your arms.

Roger ran his thumb over your slit again. “It’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

You swayed your hips in response, smirking over at him in the mirror.

“You want Daddy’s cock in you, Princess?” His expression was just as wicked.

You nodded, still making eye contact with him.

But he taunted you. “I wanna hear you say it,” he said, drawing the tip of his cock through your folds, coating it until it was slick with your juices.

“Please Daddy, I need your cock inside me,” you whined.

“I’m never gonna tire of hearing you say that, Princess,” he said, slipping into you.

Roger was far thicker than you had anticipated, forcing a shocked groan from you as he stretched you to your limit. Of course, he was analysing you in the mirror, studying every small change in your expression. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding vigorously, “I think.”

“You want me to go slow?” Roger asked, rubbing the small of your back, gingerly sinking back and forth.

“No. God no.”

“That’s my girl,” Roger beamed, thrusting into you harder. “Tell me if it gets too much for you, Princess.”

It was already too much for you in the best way possible. The more pace Roger gathered, the more unsteady your legs felt. The more he threatened to hurl you over the edge again.

There was nothing left to do but babble on about how incredible he felt. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Desperate to hold on for just a little bit longer.

“You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well, Princess,” Roger growled in your ear. “And you look so beautiful.” One of his hands found its way to your hair, pulling you upright while his other arm squeezed around your waist. He goaded you. “Look at yourself, Princess, look how good you’re being. Open those eyes.” Even just hearing him say those things sent a shiver through you.

But actually opening your eyes, watching him fill you. Seeing your skin, damp with sweat all because of what he was doing to you. The way you writhed against his grasp, your chest bouncing with every merciless thrust. The sheer lust in his eyes, glancing at your reflection, as he continued to taunt and tease.

“Touch yourself for me. Touch yourself, Princess.”

You did exactly as Roger told you, spinning hasty circles around your clit as that warmth built in your stomach again.

“How does Daddy make you feel?”

There it was again. Sending another searing spark through your body. “You make me feel so good, Daddy. Oh god, Daddy, it feels so full,” you whimpered, nearing the end of your rope.

“Are you gonna come on Daddy’s cock? Be a good girl and show Daddy how much you like it.”

Every time he said it, it drove you closer. And he wasn’t far behind. Your bodies were pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rattle of his breath and every animalistic growl that escaped him, growing more and more ragged.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Your head spun; he plunged you into delirium. Unable to focus on anything else, you lurched forward over the counter as it hit you. And Roger.

When it all subsided, you turned around to face him. He was already half dressed; jeans on, his shirt dangling from his hand. Your chest still heaved, your muscles ablaze.

But the look that Roger wore was something else. A complete one-eighty from moments ago. Soft, and warm, he pressed himself against you, glueing you to him. He draped his shirt over your shoulders, placing a series of kisses on your damp forehead.

“That was amazing,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around him.

“I never knew you were that filthy,” he chuckled.

“Well, you did say you wanted dirty weekends at the villa,” you mocked.

“How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted.”

“If you wanna sleep it off, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Right,” Roger began, unsticking himself from you and unlocking the door, “I’ll leave you to clean yourself up. My shirt looks good on you, by the way.”

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

The sound of waves crashing drew you back to consciousness. Rolling over onto your back, you enjoyed it for a moment. Your awareness sharpened. Your chest rose and fell steadily under a light layer of silk, and a gentle breeze filled the blank space around your body. The last you remembered was falling asleep in Roger’s arms. On the plane. In the air.

Your eyes shot open to find your reflection staring back at you. Sitting up, you took in more of the room. The vast, empty space in the bed. The impersonal feel of the dresser to your right, neither a book nor a photograph adorning it. The way the red curtains wafted into the room. You craned your neck forward, catching the view out of the open balcony doors to be met by a bright blue sea for miles ahead. But there was no one there. No Roger in sight.

Panic seared through you as your legs dangled off the edge of the bed.

You sighed and embarked on a journey down the hall. It was lined with gold and platinum discs from all of Queen’s albums and large prints of the band in action. Portraits of Roger and his bandmates looking much younger. ‘Like fine wine,’ you muttered to yourself, sauntering through to the staircase. It looked out on to a grand, marble reception area with huge, marble doors at the front. It was unlike anything you had ever seen or been inside, and certainly not what you expected from Roger when he talked about his favourite villa.

As you began to descend the stairs, something caught your attention. Music. Finally, some sign of life.

You followed the sound down the stairs and through the hall, into a rustic kitchen. Standing at the island, with his back to the door, was Roger. Clad in white shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, he shook his hips to the music, in time with the drinks mixer in his hand.

“This song sounds familiar,” you mused, causing him to jump.

Roger turned around, his glasses askew on his face. Realising it was you, his form softened. He beckoned you into a hug. “Did you sleep well, darling?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

“I did, thank you,” you responded, beaming up at him.

Roger shook the mixer, filling the room with the shimmering sound of crushed ice. “I’m making margaritas,” he announced, “want one?”

“I’d love one,” you said, breaking away from Roger’s embrace. Hauling yourself up on to one of the wooden stools around the island, you watched as Roger poured the drinks, finishing them off with a twist of lime. He looked rather pleased with himself, sliding it across the counter to you. He watched, waiting with bated breath, as you lifted the glass to your lips.

But then you paused, sitting it back down on the counter. “How did you get me in here while I was asleep?”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” Roger shrugged. “Just asked the driver if he could give me a hand getting you in and out the car. You never stirred once,” he explained taking a sip of his own drink, nodding in approval. “Christ, that’s good. You must be the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever met. But you did nearly sink an entire bottle of fizz on your own so I won’t hold it against you.”

You laughed, taking a swig of your cocktail. “Good.”

Roger leaned over the counter, closer to you, smirking. “You know, the cleaning lady genuinely thought I’d snapped and brought a dead body back.”

That wasn’t the worst joke Roger had hit you with, but you had made a habit of hyping up the shock value in those little tidbits he shared with you, moving back in your seat, open-mouthed. “She didn’t?”

“Yeah. Guess what I said to her?”

“You told her you were getting laid tonight, didn’t you?” you said, slapping Roger’s arm.

He sunk his teeth into his lower lip, slowly nodding.

“Oh you sick fuck,” you scolded.

“I know you love it though.”

“That’s debatable,” you quipped, taking another sip. “I love this album. I feel like I’ve heard these songs before. What is it?”

“It’s 1989 by Ryan Adams.”

You slammed down your glass and slapped the counter. “That’s where I’ve heard this before! These are Taylor Swift songs!”

Roger narrowed his eyes. “No, they’re not.”

A mocking tone took hold of your voice. With your hands on your hips, you sat up straight. “Uh, yes they are!”

“She can’t bloody write songs like this,” Roger said, rolling his eyes. “This guy, though? Genius.”

“She wrote those songs. And, he’s a known sex pest, Roger,” you explained. “Come to think of it, that’s probably why you like him, right?”

“That’s a low blow,” Roger said, sliding his phone into his eye line. “So if I’m right about him writing these songs, what do I get?”

“A kick up the arse.”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing, darling.”

“And if you’re wrong, you have to take me to all the villas you own. I quite like this one but I’m dying to see what the others-”

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“She did write those songs,” he said, showing you the Wikipedia entry. “You’re right.”

“Told you.”

“Well, short of going to the other villas, what are your plans for the rest of the day, darling?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you sighed, “what do you want to do?”

“It’s your holiday.”

“Honestly, I just want to get out of these clothes and chill out for a bit. I’m exhausted. Maybe you could show me around tomorrow?”

“We could go for a nice drive around the island if you want? Get some nice food, soak up a bit of sun.”

“Sounds good!”

“And just now, why don’t we take the margaritas upstairs and have a nice long soak?”

Like a pair of giddy teenagers, you and Roger raced each other up the marble staircase, and back into the master bedroom. You beat him, of course, and stood aimlessly in the doorway, wondering which door on the wall led to the bathroom. You hadn’t thought to find it when you woke up.

Eventually, Roger caught up. “It’s the first one, darling. But you missed the bigger bathroom, at the top of the stairs,” he explained, taking your hand and leading you back along the hallway. “We’ll never fit in that tiny little shower cubicle in my room.”

“Well I think you need a bigger shower,” you quipped. But you were quickly silenced by the sight of the free-standing tub in the master bathroom. Completely marble, again, with gold accents. You could easily fit an entire football team in it. But what struck you most was the view. The glass of the window stretched from floor to ceiling, providing you with a clear view of the sea and the beach below.

“Why would I get a bigger shower when I could have all ten of my wives in this?” Roger joked, sitting the margarita jug and glasses on the counter opposite the bath.

“Don’t you get worried people might see you?”

“Why would I get worried? It should be a bloody treat for them.”

You waited patiently as Roger poured bubbles and bath salts into the tub. Awkwardly thumbing at the collar of your shirt, you wondered where this was going. If this was going to be anything like the situation on the plane. You weren’t exactly feeling flirtatious anymore. You suddenly felt gross. Unsexy. As Roger began to shed his shirt and shorts. Finally his underwear. Your hands shook as you did the same.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Roger asked with one foot in the bath.

“What?” You asked. “Nothing.”

“Your face is like fizz. You sure you’re alright?”

You laughed. “Guess I’m not as bold when I’m sober.”

Roger sank down beneath the bubbles and peered over the top at you. “For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sloshed. You could look like Elton John right now, and I’d still adore you.”

“You’re not helping,” you said, tugging off your jeans.

Roger watched you, utterly spellbound as you climbed in beside him. “You’re right, I just wanted to get you naked again. What can I do to help?”

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised. It wasn’t as easy as that, but you had to commend his desire to try. “I don’t know. I’m still really nervous,” you shrugged, allowing the warm water to soothe your weary bones.

He studied you. The way his eyes darted over your features, memorising every detail, told you he was deep in thought. Wondering what he could do to put you at ease. But you could tell he felt defeated.

“This is all new to me too,” he sighed.

“You’re far better at this than I am. Waking up here, I had one of those ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ moments. I’m here. In a villa. On an island. With a man that I only met at the start of the week. And he’s far older than I’d ever usually go for.”

Roger’s shoulders sank. His eyes did the same, focusing on the margarita in his hand. “I don’t want you to think I’m some manipulative, perverted old man. I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression.”

Roger was on the wrong track. You shimmied over to him and ran your fingers over his jaw. “Never! That’s the thing. I like you. This is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done, and here I am, too stuck inside my own head to enjoy it.”

He keened into your touch for a moment, enjoying the contact. “That’s good,” he began, taking your hand and pressing your knuckles to his lips, looking at you with those glassy blue eyes of his. “Because I like you a lot.”

That was it. That was all he had to do to make you melt and throw yourself into his arms. You could think of worse ways to spend your evening, than watching the sun go down, in the biggest bathtub you had ever seen, with a handsome, filthy rich rockstar playing with your hair. “It’s just gonna take a bit of getting used to. Nothing serious.”

>>NEXT PARTS>>

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen

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god-hunter · 4 years

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My Major Turnaround

Hey folks,

Things have really turned around for me in the past 2 weeks - a month. Honestly I could have and should have written earlier, because there was a lot of build up and toss up between 3 jobs that I could’ve taken at one point. It would’ve been interesting to analyze how I felt in that moment before I made a decision, and relive that in future readings. I also have to tell you about my recent luck in the Dating Scene!

On the job front, things finally worked out for me. It was a lot of back-and-forth with a Recruiter, then a phone interview, followed by an in-person interview 2 weeks later, where it was basically a done deal already. Only, it really wasn’t that simple at all. I was applying left and right daily and 2 other things hit too. I had this interview at a bottle/can sleeving company that was so different and interesting and very high pay. It was honestly a why not apply, but they actually bit and were interested in me!! [It’s clear that these guys were my first choice, but it didn’t work out.]. Still, that interview was SUPER positive and I wouldn't have some sort of answer until 3 weeks. [The fuck!?] That was not unlike the job I ended up with. Long waiting period.

Then, there were 2 other places that bit too, but they were an easy 3rd and 4th place. I won’t give names, but both were Warehouse jobs. The 1st one was just so disorganized and the place looked dirty.. and when it came time to talk about pay, it was kind of up in the air, but I’d either get $14 as a Warehouse Associate or $16 as a Lead. Get the fuck outta here. I was upfront and let her know that I needed time to get back to her because I was waiting to hear back from other places.

The other Warehouse opportunity was way more promising, but the bottom dollar was $15.72 at start. As I’ve never worked in a Warehouse before, there wasn’t much room for negotiation, but I really tried very hard. This was a Hiring Event that I was at, so things moved quick. Before I knew it, I was filling out an app on one of their laptops and then received an offer e-mail. But when I saw that low number, there was no way I could sign the dotted line. After any of that negotiating at the first interview!? What the Hell, man?

The only thing that would've made me consider taking that risk was the Game this guy talked. He was promising me that this was a lasting career. People moved up there. Great benefits. There’s nothing wrong with starting at the bottom. In 6 months, things open up, you apply within and see what happens. etc. etc. He told me that people on his team moved up to Corporate or other high paying departments, and he trained everyone on everything if he saw that they were willing to go that extra mile. All this good stuff.

But I crunched those numbers, and they just didn’t make sense at all. I’d barely be making grocery money, let alone bills.

So... in my mind I had my 1st Place spot - the canning/sleeving company, this 2nd place spot from the Recruiter, the 3rd place spot, which was the $15.72 Warehouse job and 4th place, which was a last resort $14 or possible $16.

My in-person interview at the 2nd place area was the next day, and I didn’t know what I was gonna get. He could’ve trapped me with more in-depth questions about things I didn’t know. He could’ve completely caught me off guard. But instead, just like the phone interview, he was very impressed. He told me he needed a week, before he had his answer. That night the Recruiter called me, asked how it went and then told me, I got the offer.

!!! I was shocked. It was 2nd place, but it’d been so long since that 1st Place job saw me, that I had to consider putting it out of my mind. 4th place, also wasn’t an option. So really, it was down to this place, which gave me an offer, which met me at my number, or a Warehouse job that was offering $15.72 an hour.

It should be a no brainer, but again - gotta think long term. The Warehouse would've hired me directly, and despite starting at bottom, I’d be one of them, and climb the ranks within.. Maybe.

Meanwhile this job offered my number, they wanted me, but its Temp-Perm for 6 months. No promises at continuity.

I had to weigh this option and I decided that it was a risk worth taking. As I said to my family the night of the first phone interview. It’s low risk. On their end, if this doesn’t work out, they could just let me go. And on my end, even if this doesn’t last past half a year, I’m going to learn more skills and really hike up my resume in experience. Also the work is very comparable to what I’ve done for the past 2 years. It’s Customer Service for an Aerospace company. It just makes sense.

But again, at this interview, I really impressed it upon him that I was interested in working full-time in the long-term. I asked how often it was that they’d hire a Temp, but things were going well and smooth, so they ended up hiring them full-time after the contract was up.

His answer was pretty positive. He projects that the company is only going to keep needing people, and kind of let me know that this is how they do it. [They just want to save a buck.]

But I’m not just gonna sit back and think I’ve got this in the bag. I’m going to work hard and prove myself and earn my keep.

And all of that starts Tomorrow! I honestly can’t wait to get back to work and feel a sense of normalcy again.

But wait, there’s more.

In the Dating Realm things are heating up again!!

Last time I mentioned that Teacher person on Tinder. She’s out. I don’t remember the time table, but there was another girl on Tinder that matched me, and for a literal 2 days that was exciting, until she peetered out as well. Let’s call her TinderCat for lack of a better name. There’s no reason to really get into it about her, but our first conversation was a lot to do with cats, but then we just found that we didn’t have a lot in common. It certainly wasn’t personal. But when I gauged the whole Social Distancing and eventually meeting, she ghosted completely. So.. ::farts::

Then came this week when a pretty hot girl swiped on me. She was blonde and looked a little tougher, but I said, “Cool!” and matched. Conversation was fine, but not really groundbreaking. Then, when I showed her off to my Dad, he thought she looked like a Whore, because she didn’t smile in any of her pictures... I was so pissed at him, but that nickname has certainly stuck. The Whore and I talked a little more the next day, and we put out a tentative plan to hang out at a bar near me that Friday or Saturday.

That night, while in a band meeting conference call, this other girl swiped on me out of nowhere, and I was blown away! She’s a brunette, has a beautiful smile, she kind of looks like Allyson Hannigan and already, she just seemed so sweet! I don’t have a name for her yet, but we’ve been talking, getting along and are starting to bond a little, so we actually have a date already!! It’s tonight, so I’ve been referring to her as Sunday Girl, lol. She’s really sweet and I can't wait to meet her. That’s practically what we’ve been saying all week. ::fingers crossed:: We’ve both been keeping it cool.

But that’s not all. I hit a touch of deja vu when that Old Flame with a kid wanted to go on another trail date. I know better now though. She’s seeing someone and it’s getting very serious. This was just a friend thing. But I’m bringing it up, because on that day she posted some pics of us walking on the trail, and suddenly the Whore unmatched and unfriended me on FB. I didn’t notice until that night.

Honestly, I’m head over heels for Sunday girl, but I didn’t forget about the Whore. I let a healthy 2 days of space go by, but that was too much for her. We already set a plan for later that week. I was gonna check back on Thursday or something to talk about hanging on Friday or Saturday. We never clarified the day. But now that she fucking deaded me, I had a choice to make.

Let her Ghost and just let her win, thinking I wasn’t interested at all, or be a dick about it and show her that she fucked up. I chose to be a dick.. I was careful, because I honestly didn’t want this date anymore. I didn’t want to fuck up any potential for Sunday, however I needed to know if it was those Trail Pics. It turns out it wasn’t. It turns out that after 2 days of space, she thought I ghosted her. She said it wouldn’t work out because she needed attention.

What the fuck ever. I was busy. I actually have hobbies. And it’s really funny, because I’m Never the ghoster. But apparently this time it was. So there was real role reversal here.

I’m still a nice guy though and told her that if she ever changed her mind, I’d still be down to hang out. But no. This is done.

Then came a new contender! This one matched me on Tinder and calls herself the Real-Life Daria, so we’ve got that nickname covered. We spoke just a little bit on Friday and everything was positive, but then she just disappeared. And I’m absolutely fine with that.

This is why they tell people to multi-task and gear up in the dating scene. Everyone is different, but most people have the attention span of a gnat. So they’ll either gravitate toward you, or they’ll completely focus on themselves and forget to respond altogether.

It’s a dangerous balancing act though, because things are still going well with Gal Pal. Needy Girl is also still in the picture. I haven’t mentioned them at all yet, because by shitty coincidence both of them had Covid scares and quarantined just in case. In Gal Pal’s situation, she’s also been recovering from having her tonsils removed.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I physically saw her. We made up since that weird date, and things have absolutely normalized again. We don’t text every day, and since getting all excited about Sunday Girl, I’ve been pretty quiet. But Gal Pal has been making the extra effort and she’s been feeling better. She’s well enough to talk on the phone and wants to start hanging again, which is nice.

We had 2 really good conversations this week, and she continues to surprise me. We really do get along and have more in common than I think. So things are really getting interesting now.

But we’re gonna see what happens.

In general, to sum up the crazy dating life, the newest developments were:

* getting ghosted by TinderCat * getting deaded by the Whore * setting up a date with SundayGirl * randomly talking to RL Daria * Needy Girl quarantining for my safety * Gal Pal recovering/quarantining herself, but texting/calling again.

You might have noticed that I haven’t said too much about my Date tonight. Honestly, it’s because I don’t want to jinx anything. I don’t want to gush too much, just to tear it all down if things don’t work out tonight.

But again, what attracted me was certainly her Allyson Hannigan look, she’s into metal, hiking, good beer... 2 of those are kind of common, but the Metal aspect is a specialty. She’s definitely my kind of person in that regard. But then it turns out she has a cat and we bonded pretty hard about certain things in pet ownership.

She just seems fun and sweet and really likes my attention. She’s also a hard workin’ woman, which is good, because I’m about to be quite busy myself.

So we’re gonna see! I’m really excited to meet her. We’ve been saying that to each other literally all week. So here’s to tonight.

And the Future, as I start a new job!!

2020 is going to feel very different from here on in. What’s left of it.

#My Major Turnaround #Employment #Dating #TinderCat #TheWhore #SundayGirl #RL Daria #Needy Girl #Gal Pal #low-key gush #tonight's date

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krreader · 5 years

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so close, and still so far | chapter 1.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; fuckboy!hoseok ; neighbors!au ; mentions of sex ; mentions of masturbation ; language genre: angst ; fluff ; smut

summary: hoseok was that annoying neighbor that brought home a new girl every week, which was bad enough as it was, but what was even worse was the fact that you had fallen in love with the guy that always showed up at your doorstep after a tumble with an apologetic smile and pizza, despite you knowing that all you were to him was a neighbor.. right?

a/n: I’ve got original stories for almost all members, but not jimin and hoseok, so I need to change that. this is going to be hoseok’s story, one that I’m really excited about, because it’s mostly going to be super angsty and I love angst :’) if you’re wondering about the title, it’s from the enchanted movie and if you haven’t watched enchanted, do it. you won’t regret it. for now, enjoy this introduction ♥ (masterlist is in my description box)

People who live in apartments know the struggle of annoying neighbors. Sure, if you live in a house, you can have annoying neighbors too, but at least they'll be further away from you. If you live in an apartment though, especially one that wasn't one the first floor, you had three, sometimes even four neighboring apartments and that meant three to four annoying neighbors.

Take the neighbor underneath you, for example. In theory, a really nice family, a young family, actually. Namjoon, that was his name, but you had never met the wife. They had a son around seven years old and while Namjoon was nice, his son was the worst brat you can even imagine. That boy screamed 24/7 about every single thing. And if he wasn't screaming, then he was crying. Honestly, you always asked yourself how Namjoon managed to stay so cheerful when you met him in the hallways with a son like that. You probably would have become a triggered mess if you were him.

Then there was the neighbor above you, Yoongi. Yoongi was actually really quiet and you rarely heard him, but if you did, then you really heard him. As far as you knew, he was a music producer, or at least trying to be one, who clearly didn't have a soundproof studio, because sometimes he was blasting his music so loud, that you felt like the floor was going to give in from the bass and drop onto your head. But that didn't happen too often, so you could deal with him. And quite honestly, his music wasn’t too bad, so you enjoyed listening to it every once in a while.

Then there was the neighbor in the apartment to your left, a guy named Jeongguk who recently moved in with his girlfriend, but from the screaming matches these two had, it probably wouldn't last. The walls were so thin, that you could always hear the arguments and it always seemed to be about the same thing. Her being jealous and her not trusting him. Poor guy, actually. He seemed like he really loved her, but he surely wouldn't stay with her if she accused him of cheating almost daily.

And then.. then there was the worst of them all.

The neighbor in the apartment to your right.

Jung Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok was the neighbor you were closest to. He was the one that helped you move in when you did and he was the one that made the first nights less lonely by watching movies with you on your cold floor - since your couch hadn’t been delivered yet - and brought you Chinese takeaway because you didn’t have kitchen equipment yet. He turned into a friend and then he turned into something more, which is bad enough as it is, because he didn't feel the same way about you.

But the worst thing about it is that Jung Hoseok was a womanizer. Someone who brought home new girls almost every three days and as said before, your walls were so thin that you heard everything. And unfortunately, his bedroom was right next to your bedroom. So almost every third night, you had to try to fall asleep to various women – sometimes even more than one – moaning his name, begging him to go faster, calling him all sorts of names and Hoseok moaning just as loudly in return.

It drove you crazy.

Not just because it broke your heart little by little each and every time, because you wished he thought you were attractive enough to sleep with you, but also because each time you became a wet mess in your bed. You couldn't even remember the amount of times you’ve masturbated while he was having sex, imagining him moaning your name and lying on top of you, saying all those things he was saying to these girls to you and not them.

Kind of pathetic, probably.. but you couldn’t help it.

Hoseok knew that he was loud and he also knew that his partners were loud. So as an apology, he has made it his ritual to ring your doorbell each and every time he had sex, with some food in his hands and an apologetic smile on his face as you opened the door, spending the rest of the night with you, food and a Netflix movie.

So yeah, all in all, the entire situation sucked and if you weren't so hopelessly in love with his goofy personality and his beautiful smile, you would tell him to leave you alone. But you couldn't.. you invited him in each time and you tried your hardest not to let him see how upset you were that he only ever came here to apologize.

Today was probably one of those days. Friday night. So that meant that he was surely having someone over.

And because you didn't feel like hearing it all today, you had decided to stay longer than usual at work, sinking into your chair as the clock on your desk showed 10 PM.

'Maybe I should stop and get food on the way? That'll take me another thirty minutes, then another thirty minutes home.. 11 PM.'

“Why are you still here?” Jin, your boss, furrowed his eyebrows as he walked past you with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“It's Friday night.”

“Exactly. Young people like you should go out and party.”

“You're not that old yourself, you know?” you chuckled and turned off your computer, “My neighbor probably has his new girlfriend over. And I'm not in the mood to hear which kinks she has tonight.”

“Ah, yeah. I know what you mean. Make sure to write down your overtime, though. No matter what reason you're staying longer, you should get paid for it.”

Your living situation may suck at the moment, but at least your job didn't. Jin was literally the best boss you could have asked for.

“Thanks, boss,” you smiled and got up, shouldering your bag, “I'll see you on Monday.”

“See you. And good luck with your neighbor.”

Yeah. You're going to need that.

11:18 PM.

You stood in front of your apartment complex, craning your neck to see your apartment and that of Hoseok. Yours was completely dark, while his was illuminated only slightly.

'Maybe he fell asleep?'

With hopeful steps, you made your way up to your apartment, the bag of takeaway dangling from your fingers as you finally reached your floor and saw..

“You'll call.. right?” the girl whispered, kissing Hoseok's jaw.

“Of course, I'll call,” he whispered back, one of his hands on her lower back, while the other arm was casually against the door frame, “Get home safely, alright?”

If only these girls knew that he never called. Ever.

With a final kiss, the girl turned around and nearly ran into you, smiling shyly and then winking at Hoseok one last time before leaving. You watched her run down the stairs, then turned your head to look at him.

“What happened to that other girl?”

“What other girl?” he asked, tying his bathrobe tighter together.

“The one you called your girlfriend a week ago?”

“Oh, Soojun. Yeah, we broke up. This was Jinae. I met her on Tinder.”

“Tinder? Really?” you laughed and walked over to your door to unlock it, Hoseok closing his own door, making sure he had the key though, before following you into your apartment without even asking if he could, “I never would have took you for someone that uses Tinder.”

“Why not? It's the easiest way to get sex,” he laughed and grabbed the plastic bag out of your hand, before making his way into your kitchen to take out dinner, “You brought extra food again!”

“Because I knew you were going to stop by eventually,” you yelled through the apartment as you changed into more comfortable clothes.

A small smile formed on Hoseok's face as he saw you had bought his favorite dish from that restaurant, putting both plates into the microwave for a moment, before he placed them on the coffee table, you joining him again only a moment later, now in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.

“How was work?” he asked, already beginning to eat, “You were working late again.”

“Yeah.. I can use the money. And it was alright. Nothing exciting. How was your day?”

“Well, she was..-”

“No, I meant your day, Hoseok. Not the sex.”

“Oh.. well, that was boring,” he shrugged, “Jinae, though? I might call her again, to be honest. She was fantastic in bed.”

Yeah, see, that's the issue.

Hoseok always bragged about his girls. It didn’t matter whether you wanted to hear about it or not, you would hear it if he wanted you to hear it.

“Have you ever thought about.. I don't know.. settling down?” you asked over the rim of your glass.

“Settle down? With who?” he snorted.

‘With me’

“I don't know.. someone you actually like. Sex is nice and stuff, but don't you want.. more? Someone you can love? Someone that loves you?”

“Maybe, if the right girl ever comes along,” he said, his voice a little more quiet, but then he grinned and looked up at you, “So far, the only girls I met were either only fucking material or like you..”

“Like.. me?” you asked hesitantly, actually not wanting to hear the answer, but also yeah, kind of wanting to hear it.

“You know.. buddy material,” he grinned, clapping you on the back.

Friend zone.

Forever in the fucking friend zone.

“Right,” you mumbled into your glass, taking another big sip of your water.

Maybe you should have gotten some alcohol. Maybe that would help.

“But don't worry. I'm sure you're going to find the right guy soon. Someone you love. That's what you want, isn't it?”

“Yeah.. that'd be nice,” you said with a sad smile as you watched him eat, him being completely oblivious to the fact that you already were in love.

With him.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok imagine #hoseok imagine #hoseok x reader #j-hope x reader #j-hope imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #jung hoseok #j-hope #reader #mine

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jwink-4life-blog · 4 years

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My girlfriend posted this. Turns out I'm the asshole. lol. LMK if i am.

I am still with my girlfriend so please don't be mean to her. I did this to see if it would help me with my anxiety associated with the whole situation. Maybe it will help me move on.

My girlfriend posted this. Turns out I'm the asshole. lol. LMK if i am.

"So my boyfriend recently decided that he was having issues trusting me for little things he would consider white lies. (i.e. things such as saying I could handle spicy food when it turned out i no longer could) so he wanted to go through my phone, which I obliged. He went in to my Snapchat account and asked who a particular person I was talking to was.

I told him the truth, that it was someone that I had met through tinder and had become friends with. This person was well aware I'm with my boyfriend and made no moves to try and flirt or insinuate he was hoping my bf and I broke up.

My bf went through the conversation and didn't see anything suspicious, his words, not mine. All there was were complaints of wanting to kms and stomach pain. However he still insisted that he couldn't trust me and has beliefs that I'm possibly cheating on him if he has no proof of such and I never did. I never met the person I was talking to IRL

Am I the Asshole?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hey, her boyfriend here. I just thought I would fill in what is missing. At the time of her post, we had been dating since the summer of 2019 (8 months in total) but officially SO since late November (3 months). Still together!... maybe not after this. I address the extra information she added on the comments too.

Organized in chronological order:

1. She mentions a guy, let us call him Jeff. She said that Jeff and she went to a movie together after we had gotten together; that is true. Expect she left out that when we were dating she went on a date with this guy. That was perfectly fine. At the time she was not my girlfriend. She had vented to me that the guy ditched her halfway through the date and began to cry about it. She vented how upset she was because she was looking forward to it. During the time she was venting, I listened and gave her friendly advice. I finally realized months later that I really liked this girl and wanted to be with her so I asked her to be my girlfriend and to my luck, she said yes. We discussed on the day we got together that we would not talk to ex's, flirt with other people, and get off of our dating apps. Even talk about not putting ourselves in a position where cheating could occur because of someone else making a move. However, not a month into our relationship and she goes to the movies with Jeff. On are seconded date we went to the cinema where we kissed and hugged during the movie and had sexual relations for the first time after the movie which is perfectly fine. She was single and she could do with her body as she pleased. But once she got in a relationship that should have changed. What am I supposed to think? She had dated the guy before, cried about him and were at a place where I know that they could be affectionate. She told me that she was going to the movies with him and I expressed that I was not OK with it. She still went. That was the first red flag. The reason why it was a big deal was that we had just talked about our relationship and the guidelines that we expect to follow.

2. After the time she went to the movie with "jeff" (not his real name). I started to get on tinder to look at her profile to see anything suspicious (She had lost my trust). I was looking for new changes to her bio and photos. Probably a day or two later I noticed her tinder profiles had disappeared from my matched list. I thought that maybe she had blocked me so I could not see changes. Second red flag.

3. I talked to my support system such as a friend, and family they agreed that it is something worth bringing up.

4. I confront her about everything so far.

She explained that her father had prank called her using an automatic voice recording that called about a tinder date. She said she got scared because she didn't understand how they got her number and deleted the profile. So I asked her for her phone. She gave it to me but before she did she entered Kik and swipe the start page to the left and press some things. At the time I had no idea what was Kik so I just asked her what it was and she said it's an internet browsing app. She failed to mention that it was a messaging app too. I exited out of Kik and went in to tinder and we tried to sign in. There was no profile connected to her number so I left it as she was saying the truth.

When I brought up Jeff her excuse was that she had always gone out with guys by herself and it wasn't a problem ever. She said that I should trust her. She said it was her first relationship, so she didn't know it would have been an issue. I didn't like that excuse because we had already talked about guidelines in our relationships and she was breaking one. I explained that I don't trust Jeff (but I didn't trust her too). This is a guy that has dated another guy to watch free movies and get free food but he's not gay. He's is a shady person. She said nothing happened between them. She agreed on the conditions that would not happen again. We went on with our lives together.

5. Some time passes. We had other issues later on but like any other couple.

6. One day while I was driving she had mentioned that she was keeping in touch with people all over the world and that they were her friends. She mentioned that she use to be in love with a guy from out of the country and would have phone sex with another that lived out of state. I didn't say anything because at the time I didn't feel that she need to get rid of these friends since they were so far away. Later on, stuff happened that changed my mind.

7. Some time passes again.

8. One day when we were laying in bed together I noticed that she was deleting her Snapchat and Kik from her phone. I just made a mental note because I thought it was old. I didn't ask anything and she just told me that she needed space on her phone. It sounds valid to me. Still, though, I didn't ask. Later in the future, she told me that she had deleted them so I wouldn't think she was cheating.

9. Later on that night or the following night she was acting weird. She didn't want to have sex which is fine but she distanced herself from me. We would normally cuddle but she was on the other side of the bed. Her mannerisms were almost like covering her vagina where ever she moved (not on her period); it was behavior she never exhibited before. I joked with her to try and make her feel better and she said: "you are a bitch though!". She was defensive about my jokes. Not how she normally acts when I joke with her. That whole night was terrible, it just became a battle of who could annoy the other.

10. The next morning I could not stop getting this feeling that something was wrong. I knew I didn't have much of a reason to ask for her phone again. Still that night I talked to her. I began to doubt myself. I explain to her, how when I was a child my mother would have me call all the numbers off of my dad's phone from call history to see if my dad was cheating(He was) so I told her that I think this is the reason why I may feel she is cheating on me with no evidence. I asked if she would let me see her phone to prove my suspicions are wrong. She said yes. I smiled and didn't take her phone. I felt that was good enough for me... until after we were done eating she began to get ready to shower but before going she made eye contact with me and placed her phone in her backpack, never breaking eye contact with me; solid 20 seconds of eye contact. I just made a mental note that it was weird that she put it away so awkwardly.

11. Later on that night in bed I thought it was the best time to ask her for her phone to finally put my suspicions away. She gave me her phone. Initially, she didn't bother looking over to see where I was going on her phone. That made me feel that I had nothing to worry about. I went to her phone and didn't find a thing but then I remember she had deleted her Snapchat and Kik.

12. The next move was to go into the files of her phone where stuff is stored even when the app is deleted. I enter the Kik app file and she was sending a video of her kissing the screen and role-playing. She said it was before we were together. I check the date it's in late December after I met her family. This is when her relaxed attitude change to focusing on the screen at all times.

13. I download Kik and Snapchat. I made sure to remove the phone from her hands once she signs in to not have a suspicion of her deleting stuff.

14. I still didn't know much about Kik but later I found out that if you delete or sign out of the app all your messages will be deleted. No message was found because she had deleted the app. Just a guy's name that she said was a friend but messages in the conversation were empty.

15. Snap chat was where I found a red flag. I enter her snap chat and saw 4 guys' names. I asked her "before I go in any of these do you want to tell me anything?" she said no.

I enter the first guy chat, it was the out of state guy who she had phone sex before; he saved messages. The saved messages didn't look suspicious but it's Snapchat so there can be some that weren't saved. Weird that she talking to someone she uses to have frequent phone sex with but OK. Didn't say much about it.

The second guy, he saved messages too. He was sending her voice messages. Saved messages were not suspicious but it's Snapchat so there can be some that weren't saved. I asked her who he was since his name was not familiar. She said he found her from tinder and they been messaging since. That was a red flag for me because we discussed we would not communicate with the people we meet from tinder. She said that he never made a move on her... stuff like that; however, she then said how she was trying to meet up with the guy at Denny's once because she wanted pancakes and even though she wanted to he would not go unless she would take a friend with her because he knew she had a boyfriend. Sounds weird?? Yup! She said they never met. why would she try to meet up with him by herself? So I'm the asshole? why do all these dudes supposedly "save the whole conversation"?

The third and fourth were guy she has been friends with and I have no problem with her hanging with the two of them together. She had mentioned these friends a long time ago so it checked out.

16. On the drive home, after I went through her phone. She must have the worst timing ever because she brought up the fact that she used to cheat when playing cards with her dad. Her dad got mad at her and would not play with her again. She would ask to play with her dad but he wouldn't let her because she would cheat. Then she told me that if her dad would have given her another chance she would have proven that she wouldn't have cheated again. Why did she say this??? no idea. Bad timing, maybe?

17. But right after that story she then became mad and quiet. She said I had broken her personal space which all she has in her life. I told her that I gave her phone back and she could go through mine whenever she wanted. She still was mad. Saying that I took her privacy away. This got me heated because I didn't say she had to stop talking to anyone after I found the suspicious activities. I blew up! I told her we will talk about it at her house! Then she started crying saying how she is sorry and so on.

18. Once at her house, I told her that anyone from a dating site that she met; people she had any sexual activities including phone sex from the past she would have to stop talking to if she wanted to be with me. I dropped her off and left angry. We took the weekend apart from each other.

19. I talked to my support system again and they said it was time to cut it off. I agreed but...

20. My dumb ass stayed with her. lol, We talked it out. She blamed her inexperience with the relationship since it was her first. Saying she didn't know better.

21. We had other issues like any other couple.

22. I was going to finally break up with her but I had to wait until the weekend because I promise to take her sibling to school for a few weeks. I waited to break up with her to keep my promise to her.

23. She caught on to me being distant and faking being happy. She confronted me about it and we decide to work on our relationship.

24. Part of the conversation involved people who thought I was overrating about past relationship troubles. Turn out she was talking about Reddit!!! Hi, Reddit! Seems allot of info got left out. SMH. I thought it was weird how everyone I went to for advice thought I made perfect sense but with her, she thought I was overreacting, insecure, and bad shit crazy.

24. I fell in love with her. Hopefully, I don't get my heart to rip out. lmao.

25. Almost forgot, the "white lies"... well, do I have to go in detail about this? Shouldn't this post speak for itself? I understand why we use white lies; we are using then to not hurt someone's feelings. "Hey, do I look ugly?" "No, you are a snack". This was not the case. I have caught her many times lying about stuff that there's no need to lie about, hold information, and change a slight thing in her story to fit her narrative. For example, "My bf went through the conversation and didn't see anything suspicious, his words, not mine". Really? Did I say that? The only thing I told her was there was not enough proof to say she didn't cheat on me. There was defiantly so suspicious activities.

Am I the asshole?

Is she the asshole?

Or am I a 100% simp?

LMK

#reddit

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