#{ i say after spending like an hour just working on this icon }

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track three: something about a beat

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, hopeless stupid pining, alcohol, mentions of deceased parent, maki is Fed Up, anxiety, unbearably cute dogs. || sfw. 9k words.

“OKAY, IT’S UP,” Nobara says, grinning at you over her laptop. You’re sprawled across the living room at Takuma’s place, surrounded by a random combination of your band and his while others are in classes. After spending last night mixing the single, Takuma helped Nobara set up an artist profile for the band, and now your music is available on streaming services. Just like that.

“That’s so weird,” you say, grinning as you pull up Spotify on your phone. Next Fix by Cursed Technique. Strange to see your face on there, a photo taken of all of you by some freshman when you last performed at The Fix. Nobara sends the link in your group chat, and Toge responds within seconds.

freak no. 1: FAME freak no. 1: FORTUNE freak no. 1: wait it’s not opening freak no. 1: nvm i’m just stupid

“Does he ever pay attention in class?” Nobara mutters. Maki snorts.

Yuta is also in class, but that means he’s locked in, all his devices on Do Not Disturb. You don’t think Toge’s turned DND on a single time in his life.

“I’m going to Kinji’s!” Kirara shouts from the front entryway, and Yuji leaps to his feet and disappears down the hall, barreling back out of his room seconds later.

“Wait! Can you give this to Panda while you’re there?” He hands her a drive, and Kirara rolls her eyes and takes it.

“You need to slow down every once in a while,” she says, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Okay, bye. I’ll be back in a few hours.” The dogs follow her to the door and return the living room when she’s gone, curling up on either side of Megumi, who’s busy writing some paper in the corner.

“What was that?” Nobara asks.

“Demo drive for the radio station,” Takuma says. “Panda plays our stuff sometimes. I bet he’d play yours, too.”

“That’d be sick,” Nobara says approvingly. She turns to bother Megumi, poking at him until he takes his headphones off and talks to her, and Yuji strolls into the room and flops down directly on the floor.

“Comfy?” you ask, poking him with a socked foot.

“Mm. Yeah.”

“Ah, look what you did, Kugisaki,” Megumi says, and you look up to see Shiro trotting toward you with her tail wagging, having abandoned her post at her owner’s side.

“That was not my fault! You’re the one who moved.”

“Because you kept poking me!”

You immediately slide off the couch onto the floor, letting Shiro sit in your lap. “Um, excuse me,” Takuma says, offended. You crane your neck to look up at him behind you on the couch. His face is lit up by his computer as he works on a string of code he tried (and failed) to explain to you, and there’s laughter in his eyes despite the affronted tone of his voice.

“Favorite,” you inform him with a wide, cheeky smile. He very maturely sticks his tongue out at you.

“Toge message,” Nobara informs you all, reading off her phone. “He says omg we have four listeners do you think they’re writing slutty fanfiction about us already.” She glances at you. “Petition to remove him from the chat—oh, look, he started sending the wolf memes again.”

Hanging out like this has become natural so quickly you almost forget you haven’t been friends with Shibuya Incident for ages. You feel almost as much at home in the tapestry-covered living room here as you do in the plant-filled kitchen of your own house down the street.

Maki checks her watch, sighing. “We should get going soon. The guys will be back in half an hour.” Then you have rehearsal, even though you’re not one of the three bands performing tomorrow night. When you do take the stage next week, you want to be ready.

Nobara is trying to read Megumi’s texts over his shoulder, which isn’t working out well for her, and he tells Maki, “Yes, please, take your invasive little gremlin home.” He puts his hand right on Nobara’s face and pushes her away, and she screeches and tries to tackle him, but he’s already sitting in a beanbag chair in the corner, so it doesn’t really do much except make Kuro jump on top of them both.

You glance up at Takuma again, still stroking Shiro’s fur while the others start to stand, ready to head home. “You rehearsing today too?”

“I’d hope so,” he shrugs.

“Yes, dipshit, in two hours. If you ever read the group chat,” Megumi says.

Takuma doesn’t seem fazed by Megumi’s irritation and just shrugs. “We have a new song for tomorrow.”

“You didn’t tell me!” You poke at his knee in retribution for his secrecy. “I wanna hear it!”

“You will,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

“Skipper, help, I don’t wanna walk our gremlin home by myself,” Maki calls from the door, and you reluctantly pat Shiro on the head and stand. She follows you to the entryway and sniffs at you while you cram your feet into your sneakers.

“Maki Zenin.” Nobara turns up her nose and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you hated me so much, why didn’t you just say so?”

“Bye!” Yuji shouts from the living room, and you all call out varying goodbyes and noncommittal sounds before making your way out the door and down the block, the afternoon air chilly against your cheeks.

Nobara waits all of ten seconds before spinning around and walking backward, grinning at you mischievously. “I bet Ino wrote a song about you.”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” you laugh. “He didn’t.” You can’t imagine you’ve given him all that much to work with. What would he write, that you like coffee and drums and Megumi’s dogs?

“Why else wouldn’t he show you? Don’t you guys text each other song lyrics like the little romantic fucks you are?” Your face is flaming, and you’re suddenly very grateful for the cool of the wind against your skin. The idea of him writing a song about you plants something weird in your gut—not something bad, just something unexpected and warm and blooming.

You try not to show it and your friends see right through you, Nobara turning back to skip up the drive with a satisfied grin and Maki rolling her eyes at the both of you.

“I’m gonna write a song, too,” Nobara declares, unlocking the door and pushing her way inside. “Skipper and Ino, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S—”

This time, you and Maki speak in tandem. “Shut up!”

—

“There’s a joke here,” Gojo says, tapping both of his index fingers together while he thinks. “About being a drummer and a journalist. Something about a beat.”

You laugh, jotting another note on the lined paper of your small spiral notebook. “I hate to tell you, but I’ve heard that one before.”

You’re not sure features qualifies as a specific beat, more of a broad category, but your staff isn’t nearly large enough to assign people to smaller specialties. Plus, it’s a college publication, designed for experimentation and growth. Nobody wants to be boxed in yet. That’ll come later, out in the monotony of the real world, and you’ll be confined to some hyperspecific beat like neighborhood crime or high school basketball.

“No!” Gojo cries, dragging his hands down his face like it’s the end of the world. “I can’t believe somebody plagiarized me before I even said it.”

“That’s not how that works,” Utahime cuts in dryly, sliding three shots across the counter to the waiting group of sophomores and then effortlessly throwing together another cocktail.

Gojo leans toward you, shadowing out your notes, and stage-whispers, “You see what I have to put up with?”

You do, actually, see what Utahime has to put up with. She long ago put down a line of blue painter’s tape to divide her side of the bar from Gojo’s, and she preaches frequently that there will be dire consequences if he crosses it.

Of course, he crosses it at every opportunity, and here he is, still.

It’s also just how the two bartenders split up the work, the customers, and you write that down too, that it’s an effective division of labor. “Don’t read my notes,” you tell Gojo as he squints at your writing upside down. “It’ll wreck the journalistic integrity.” He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout that reminds you violently of Toge, who’s taking photos of Utahime as she works.

You glance over to the stage, where Angel is performing the last number of her set, a bouncy, belty song that you recognize from a video she posted earlier this week. The crowd loves it, dancing around and singing along, but still, you think she’ll have a tougher time making it through as the only solo artist remaining in the competition.

You whoop and cheer as she hits her last note, holding it for an ungodly amount of time, and Gojo eventually has to abandon his teasing to do his job. When Toge thinks he’s got enough photos, the two of you slip back into the crowd, Panda commentating on the change of artist as you catch up to your friends.

“And now, here’s your alt rock duo, your boys, the Kamos,” he says as you come to a stop beside Yuta. “Give it up!”

Nobara very loudly gives it up.

“Hi.” Yuta nudges you. “How’s the reporting going?”

“Good.” Noritoshi and Choso settle in on stage, tuning their guitar and bass and making girls swoon in the front row but somehow remaining entirely oblivious to it. “You’re not going home tomorrow, right?”

Yuta shakes his head. This weekend is fall break, which just means that there were no classes today. You spent the first day of your three-day weekend cramming for midterms.

Toge’s heading out after this and Nobara will leave early in the morning, but Maki and Yuta will be here for the weekend. You wonder about Takuma and his band, but you can’t ask right now—they’re all backstage, waiting to go on after the Kamos.

The boys in question, when they’re not doing covers, have incredibly nonsensical song names that have little to nothing to do with their lyrics. The first track of theirs you ever heard was called Song About the Time My Dog Got Lost for Three Hours.

“Okay,” Choso says after their cover of a song by The Smiths. “This one’s called Please Don’t Tell Your Mom I Was At Your House Past Curfew.”

He and Noritoshi then proceed to play the most upbeat, energizing alt rock shit you’ve ever heard. You love these guys, and the crowd does too, the way they don’t take themselves too seriously but they’re genuinely talented. But it’s making you nervous for Takuma and his band, because only one group goes on tonight. Only one.

No, you think, shrugging it off. They got this.

When Shibuya Incident finally walks on stage, the ensuing roar of applause before they even do anything eases whatever worries you might have had. They were slotted at the end of tonight’s set for a reason. Everyone loves them.

Without prelude, they launch into a song you recognize from their EP, a fast-paced track with a pretty simple chord progression that gets entirely flipped on its head in the bridge. You let Yuta spin you around as you dance with the rest of the crowd, the lights and sound washing over you. Yuji’s in his element, Kirara is fucking killing it, and Megumi—as always—is the rock the band stands on, unerring tempo and steady presence keeping everyone on track.

After the song finishes with a crazy riff from Kirara, and the crowd takes a minute to freak out and then slowly wind down, Takuma grabs the mic to address the audience.

“Hi again,” he says, scanning the clusters of people from his place on the low stage. His gaze lands on you and your friends, and he smiles a little wider. “That was Godspeed. We’re gonna slow it down a bit for our next song. It’s a new one. We’re calling it Curious.”

Nobara practically launches herself over Toge to get to you and shake you by the shoulders. “What did I say?” she hisses.

“Oh my god,” you say, shoving her off. “They haven’t even started yet.” But you look back at Takuma to find he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

To your surprise, the instrumentals don’t start first. Most of Shibuya Incident’s music opens with a riff or a fill or at least four bars of introduction. But this time, Takuma leans into the mic and starts singing, just a low “ooooh,” and the rest of the band comes in one by one—Megumi, then Kirara, then Yuji. Kirara’s harmonizing on a higher note, and the effect is a slow, dissonant build that makes you lock in, all anticipation.

Then Takuma tugs the mic from the stand and sings,“I see your eyes, curious, curious, you wanna know why the sky’s so goddamn blue. I hear your voice, curious, curious, you’re asking me if I’d ever fall for you.”

And as you listen, Nobara’s smile just gets wider and wider, and Takuma keeps making fleeting eye contact with you, and you realize abruptly that she was right.

This song is about you.

Takuma’s said it to you before, in passing, how he likes the way you look at the world—through a journalist’s lens, curious about how everything works, always searching for unseen answers.

“Wish I could see my life like you do,” he and Kirara sing in unison. “Wish I could walk the streets each night… wonderin’ if the full moon sees you, but I just keep lookin’, lookin’ down at the time.”

You’re transfixed, just like the first night you saw Takuma perform live, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the stage if you tried. Someone should write a story about him, you think. This man could be on the cover of Rolling Stone and you wouldn’t question it.

God, you’re so far gone, aren’t you?

When the set is over, the last song finishing with a long, drawn-out chord, Takuma thanks the crowd and hands the mic off to Panda to take over. As the band disappears one by one into the backstage area, he lays out the voting process.

“The voting period will last ten minutes, assuming no technical difficulties,” he says. “QR codes, as usual, are posted around the bar. If you’re a competitor, you can’t vote. Make sure you’re logged into your .edu accounts or you won’t be able to access the form…”

Your fingers are tapping nervously at your thighs, the crowd around you already glued to their phone screens. The band isn’t back out on the floor yet—Panda will call all three artists up at the end of the voting period and announce the finalist live.

Sweat is starting to pool in the palms of your clammy hands, and you wipe it on your jeans, anxious. To you, there’s no question. But it’s not up to you.

“Relax,” Yuta says, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It won’t even be close, Skip.”

After the longest ten minutes of your life, Hana Kurusu, the Kamos, and Shibuya Incident join Panda back on stage, a dramatic spotlight bouncing between each artist as Panda draws out the announcement. “And the artist from tonight moving on to the finals in two weeks is…”

“Just say it,” Maki huffs beside you, and Yuta chuckles and nudges her with a shoulder. She tries to hide the slight upturn of her lips, but that’s not going to slide past you.

You’ll tease her later. For now—

“Shibuya Incident!”

The reaction is explosive, both on the floor and the stage. Yuji practically leaps onto Kirara’s back, and Takuma’s face goes slack in surprise before a shy smile works its way across his spotlit features, Megumi being his nonchalant, unaffected self in the midst of it all. Nobara is screaming, and you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, Toge whooping and snapping photos as the Kamos and Hana crowd the band, congratulating them on the victory.

Takuma looks out into the crowd again and you wave, smiling unabashedly, so fucking proud and excited and thinking maybe, maybe, if you make it too, you’ll be facing off against each other, and wouldn’t that be something?

Maybe you shouldn’t be so thrilled. He’s the competition, after all.

But if he wins for going up there and singing curious, curious with his eyes locked on yours, you suppose it wouldn’t be all that bad.

—

Most of Saturday passes in a barrage of classwork and inconsistent, snacky meals in between, the diet of a harried college student, ramen and chips and whatever actual food Yuta leaves for you in the fridge. He’s back from work by three, and Maki wraps up her own work around the same time you do, late afternoon creeping into evening. The three of you are curled up in the living room, the TV on while Yuta and Maki try to pretend they’re not looking at each other.

You need to get them alone.

you: are you busy takuma: not at all takuma: what’s up? you: mind if i crash your house?

You glance up and swear Yuta has somehow, in the last two seconds, moved closer to Maki on the couch.

you: i think yuta and maki need some ~ALONE TIME~ takuma: TEA takuma: sorry kirara told me to stop saying that in response to everything that happens ever takuma: it’s fun tho

“I’m going to Takuma’s,” you announce, and Maki raises a brow at you.

“Again?”

“Sue me for having friends.”

Yuta’s brows crease a bit at the word friends, but he doesn’t comment. With a furtive glance back, you grab your shoes and slip out the door, successfully leaving Maki and Yuta alone in the house for an indeterminate amount of time.

Please, you think. One of them has to make a fucking move soon.

Takuma answers the door before you can knock. “Hey.”

“No pups today?” you ask as you step past him into the entryway, kicking off your shoes.

“Sadly,” Takuma says. “Fushiguro took ‘em with him, wherever he went. Ah, man. Did you only come over for them?” His tone is teasing as he closes the front door behind you, trading the October cold for the warmth of the house. “Afraid I’m a letdown.”

“Takuma,” you scold at his self-deprecation. “You’re basically an excited puppy yourself, so—”

“Hey!” he squawks, and then thinks about it and tilts his head, conceding. “Fine. Maybe. Yeah, okay.”

“What have you been up to?” you ask as the two of you make your way to the living room.

“Procrastination. Guitar instead of homework, mostly. You?”

“Same,” you sigh. “Well, not the guitar part. But I should have been way further ahead on my homework by now.” You shrug. You’ll get it done; you always do.

You settle in easily on the couch, and the two of you boot up the Wii and play a few rounds of Mario Kart because someone left the disc in. And when you’ve both beaten each other enough times to lose count, Takuma mentions something about your single and you realize you haven’t checked the stats.

“You can see more on a computer,” he says, and you follow him up to his room, where he cedes control of the device to you. You pull up the artist profile and grin at the steady upward climb of listeners. It’s not a ton, but this only went up on Thursday.

“We haven’t even done anything to promote this,” you admit, spinning in Takuma’s desk chair to face him. “I don’t even know how people are finding it.”

He immediately looks down, which means he knows something. You nudge him with your foot. “What? What does that face mean? Takuma.”

“I maybe gave Panda a drive of the mix,” he shrugs, talking fast like the meaning of the words might elude you if he mumbles enough. “And he maybe played it at the radio station earlier today. Several times.”

A wave of affection crashes into you so fast that you jump up and throw your arms around him without thinking, laughing into his shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that!” You pull back, grinning. “That was really sweet. Thank you. Seriously.”

“Ah, it was nothin’.” He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as self-conscious.

“Not nothing,” you say softly. He smiles.

After a moment, he glances at the window and seems to come to a decision. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself.”

“Wanna go out on the roof?”

You blink, processing the words, instinctively looking to his window. You’ve never really realized it before, but it opens out onto a flat expanse of shingles, a perfect lookout right outside Takuma’s bedroom.

Your grin is answer enough, and he unlatches the window and pulls it open. He glances back at you, up and down, and you feel yourself blush before you realize he’s taking in what you’re wearing. He grabs a thick jacket from the closet and tosses it to you, then shrugs one on himself and leads the way, gripping the window frame with one hand and pulling himself outside. After a moment of consideration, he reaches back in and grabs his acoustic guitar by the neck from its place against the wall, pulling it out with him.

When the window shuts behind you, you’re immediately grateful for the protection of the extra layer. Even with your hands balled in the sleeves of your hoodie, it’s chilly out here.

You’re surprised by how much of the campus you can see spread out in the distance. It’s early evening, but the days are getting shorter, the sun a misleading blaze of heat in the otherwise cold hour.

“This,” you say, “is fucking awesome.”

“Right? I called dibs on the room as soon as we toured. For this.” He grins, leaning back on his palms, legs spread out in front of him. You lie back on the roof, letting the cool surface seep through your hood, staring up at the sky.

“So Maki and Yuta,” he says, shaking his head fondly. “Are they finally a thing?”

“I don’t know, but if they’re gonna do anything about it, it’s not gonna be while anyone else is home.” You shrug, or at least do whatever approximation of shrugging you can when you’re bundled in a bulky hoodie and jacket and lying on a roof.

Honestly, Yuta and Maki are some of your favorite people on this planet, and you can’t imagine anyone else who really deserves them. They’re the de facto mom and dad of your group—as in, Yuta is the band mom and Maki’s the gruff father who won’t admit his affection for the pet he didn’t want to get but ended up loving anyway.

“Man, I’m glad I wasn’t around when Kirara and Hakari were in their pining phase,” Takuma chuckles. He pulls his legs in, sitting cross-legged, and picks up the guitar, idly tuning it as he speaks. “Then there’s Itadori, probably picks up girls everywhere he goes and has never once realized it.”

“What about Megumi?” You let your head loll to the side, looking at Takuma with the guitar settled in his lap.

“Fushiguro? I don’t know, man, he doesn’t tell us anything. He has like, resting yearning face. I’ve got no idea. I don’t even know where he is right now, just that he’s supposed to be back really late.”

“That means the dogs will be back?” you say hopefully.

Takuma shakes his head, strumming another chord, and another, fingers moving deftly across the frets. “I’m not enough for you, huh?”

“I said no such thing.”

He plucks out a happy little melody on the guitar, looking at you. “Wanna learn?”

You sit up, your hood falling back off your head in the process. “Really?”

In answer, he hands you the guitar, scooting closer to you to show you where to place your fingers. You’ve been around your bandmates enough to know the basics, but you let him teach you anyway, giggling a little when he guides you through a three-chord progression and says, “Damn, you’re a natural.”

He leans back and stares at the sky, listening to you play. Eventually you add a few other basic chords into the mix, varying your strumming patterns, already feeling the strain in your fingertips from the unfamiliar press of the strings.

“So,” you say, still idly messing around on a G chord. Takuma props himself up on his elbows, looking over at you. “What was the incident in Shibuya? Have you been to Shibuya?”

He snorts. “Nope. Honestly, it was more to make people ask the question. You know in the Marvel movies, how Hawkeye and Black Widow are always talking about Budapest?”

“And nobody knows what the hell happened there,” you say, laughing. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve never even been to Japan,” Takuma admits. “Fushiguro has, though. Maybe he had an incident in Shibuya. Who knows?”

G, C, D. D, C, G. You play the chords over and over, strumming softly, slowly, letting your finger catch on each of the strings, then five of them, then four.

“This is a really nice guitar.”

“Yeah.” There’s a beat of silence that makes you glance up, weighted differently than the usual pauses in conversation. Takuma is sitting up now, knees pulled loosely to his chest. “Was my dad’s.”

“He taught you to play,” you remember aloud, recalling your conversation in the coffee shop. But now you’re hung up on that word: was. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, but part of you feels like his words are a sort of quiet invitation, like he wants to tell you, but doesn’t want to force it. “I… is he…?”

“He died when I was twelve,” Takuma admits, eyes fixed on the sky. “Uh, car accident. It was stupid, some issue with the other guy’s car. Couldn’t stop it.” You’ve never heard his voice like this before, taut, oddly thin. Carefully, gently, you set the guitar on the roof beside you, watching him.

“Were you…”

“In the car?” Takuma sniffs. “Ah. Yeah.”

“Oh,” you breathe, and that’s what it is, more of a breath than a word. “I—Takuma…”

When he laughs, there’s no humor in it. It’s a hollow kind of chuckle, one that says everything he can’t. “It’s why I learned to skate, actually,” he says quietly, not meeting your eyes. “I’d get everywhere that way. I didn’t—want to drive, I guess. Got my license late and everything. I think people thought I was just a slacker.”

Whatever words you might scrounge up feel inadequate for a grief this large. You don’t want to pity him, and you don’t want to dismiss him, and that’s always the problem with hard conversations, isn’t it? What a line to walk.

“You’re not a slacker,” you say eventually, and he raises a brow at you. “I mean, maybe you procrastinate coding projects to a worrying extent, but you always get it done.” You smile thinly. “You don’t give up in any way that matters, Takuma. I like that about you.”

He chuckles. “Nanami said something like that, once.” His eyes go far-away again, just for a second. “He’s kind of the closest thing… like… I don’t know. I’ve known Nanami for a really long time. He was my dad’s friend. And I guess he sort of became a father figure, after…”

He shrugs. “It’s probably a big part of why I decided to go here. That, and it’s not too far from my mom’s. I don’t know that she’d have been thrilled if I went somewhere farther.”

“You’re not home,” you say carefully, a question but not question. “For break?”

“She’s on a business trip,” he says. “So not much point. But I’ll see her at Christmas, at least.”

For a while the silence stretches out comfortably between you, like a weighted blanket. You can’t ignore it, but it isn’t unwelcome. At some point you scooted closer to him, and now you sit side by side, only the layers of your jackets separating you.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say eventually, soft, unwilling to break the quiet. He nods.

“You didn’t go home either,” he points out, an unspoken question in the spaces between words. “Is it just ‘cause you’re from so far away, or…”

“Yeah. A Friday off didn’t feel like enough of a break to warrant a flight back.” But that’s not all of it. His silence tells you he knows it, too. He’s been so candid with you all night. You can share this part of yourself, you decide.

There’s something about Takuma, anyway, that makes you want to tell him things. You want to know him, and you want him to know you—you now, here, at school, but also you there, home, in the past.

“I haven’t been home since July,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest, mirroring him. “My town is… small. I liked it when I was little. But the older I got the more I started to feel, just—I don’t know, stifled?”

Your hometown used to feel huge, like you could explore it forever on your Razor scooter and never find all its secrets. But you grew, and the town didn’t grow with you, and suddenly you were standing outside your high school realizing you knew every corner of the self-proclaimed suburban city, every street and coffee shop and alley. You’ve always been curious. And at some point, there wasn’t anything left in that place for you to be curious about.

“I love my home. I love my parents. It’s just… I needed to get out. I don’t think they ever really understood that.”

It’s easier to admit things when you’re looking straight ahead like this, out over the lines and curves of buildings, picking out street lamps, watching a few stray cars make their way around slow corners.

“Is it what you wanted it to be?” he asks quietly. “Here, I mean.” He nods out to the vast stretch of campus, spread across the city. So many corners you’ve been here years and haven’t found them all.

Campus is weird on break, you muse, looking out over the darkness. A whole parallel world for you to explore, the shadowed version of the place. A video game map on single-player, a dead server. Hardly any lights on in the windows, no kids out on the street. Like a ghost town. But it still doesn’t feel empty to you. There’s so much promise in it.

“Yeah,” you answer after a moment, soft. “Yeah, I think it is.”

A ghost town that isn’t lonely, somehow. You could write a song about it, you think. Friends with all the dead in my ghost town. The phrase plays itself out in your head, and it sounds like something moodier than your band usually goes for. It sounds like Shibuya Incident.

You wonder if this is what it means to be in a relationship—not a romantic one, necessarily, but a friendship, or any kind of bond between two creative people. If it’s this, the sharing of intellectual property with another person to the extent that their voice and yours start to blend.

It’s in the way Nobara can finish your sentences when you’re throwing out potential verses, scrambling for rhymes. How Toge and Yuta can anticipate each other’s movements, match chord progressions without talking about them. How Maki slips into your tempo seamlessly, every single time.

And now your lyrics sound like something his band would play. Maybe Takuma’s songwriting will start sounding like yours, too.

You don’t think you’d mind.

“Can I tell you something?” Takuma murmurs after a moment, sounding hesitant.

You rest a cheek on your knees, hands clasped together in front of your shins, facing him. “Mhm.”

“That song last night,” he whispers, and he’s not looking at you, just staring out at the rapidly darkening campus. “It was about you. And how you—I don’t know, the way you look at things. Like they’re always so full of potential. I wish I could do that. You just see things and want to know more. I like… watching you, being curious.” He pauses for a beat and then quickly adds, “Not in like, a creepy way! Just—I don’t know.”

A chuckle slips through your lips against your will, the darkness hopefully hiding the color in your cheeks. Maybe you can blame it on the cold. “Watching?” you ask, teasing. “I can’t imagine I’m all that intriguing. There’s a lot of cool people around here, y’know.”

“Skip,” he murmurs, and now his eyes are locked on yours. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

Every nerve in your body is hyperaware of his proximity, and his hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the touch ghosting over you, barely there, hesitant. A nonverbal question. Is this okay?

You lean into the warmth, letting his breath wash over you, mingling with your own in the space between your lips, smaller and smaller and smaller.

He’s watching you, closely, giving you a chance to pull away. So many words exchanged tonight, but you don’t need any for this.

You don’t pull away.

It’s slow at first, and soft, and hesitant. The shingles dig into the heel of your hand as you lean forward on one arm, a grainy feeling on your fingertips, in the grooved imprints left by the guitar strings. You find your free hand moving up to his shoulder, pushing, guiding him down until his back is pressed against the roof and you’re over him, lips locked with his. You look at him, and he’s so full of potential. You want to know everything about him, you want to know how he works, you want to ask questions. And you do, with your tongue along the seam of his lips, and your hand tangled in his hair, and his breath mixing with yours in the air. It’s near full dark now, feeling later than it really is, evening in autumn.

You’re not cold anymore.

He deepens the kiss, body coming up to meet yours, and you feel like maybe this roof is the top of the whole world, because how could you ever feel higher than this?

“Takuma,” you murmur, and you kiss him again, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this way before, but you’ll do maybe anything in the world to feel this way again.

And then a sharp, deep sound makes you jump, scrambling to sit up on the shingles, breathing heavy from the kiss and the noise. Did that come from inside or out?

“What—”

“Oh, crap,” Takuma groans, pulling open the window. “Someone’s home.” He looks back at you, cheeks flushed from the cold or the kiss or both, looking a little helpless, a little apologetic, and you can’t help the small laugh that bursts from you at the absurdity of the situation. You feel like a teenager getting caught by your parents.

“We should…” He nods toward the window. You hand him the guitar, then crawl back over to the window and slip inside after him, the warmth a stark relief from the temperature you’ve gotten so used to. Your heart is a jackhammer, rapidly pecking away at the once-stable structure of yourself.

You kissed him.

You kissed Takuma.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out with still-cold hands.

utah: [1 Image Attachment] utah: dinner?

Admittedly, the pasta does look amazing, and your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I should go,” you say awkwardly, holding up the phone for Takuma to see.

“Uh, yeah, uh—for sure, no problem, I should go see what’s up down there anyway,” he says after a beat of hesitation. “I’ll see you, uh…?”

“Around?” you finish, laughing slightly.

“Yeah,” he echoes with an amused half-smile as you make your way down the stairs. “Around.”

—

You’re freaking out.

It’s 4:31 on Monday afternoon, you’ve been listening to the same song on repeat for an hour, and you’re freaking the fuck out.

After Saturday night, you didn’t talk about it. You kissed him on the roof and your heart turned into a hummingbird and you were warm all over, and then the front door slammed and you nearly jumped out of your skin, and Megumi was back early and Takuma had no idea why, and you pet the dogs and then slipped out, wanting to give them their space.

And you haven’t talked about it. You haven’t had time. Sunday was a mess of cramming for midterms and your housemates returning from break and you threw yourself into your studies and tried not to remember, but now…

The stupid fucking switch in the back of your brain has flipped itself on and you can’t turn it off, all worry and criticism and hypothetical worst-case scenarios and you’re giving too much too fast, Skipper, you know better than this!

How many people in your tiny town fell in love young and grew to resent each other? How many of your high school friends grew up with divorced parents? How many breakups have you seen in your two and a half years at this university, how many tears and shouting matches in public halls, how many friend groups falling apart because two people fell in and out of love?

The thing is, you know you’re panicking about nothing. Takuma hasn’t asked anything of you. It was just a kiss. He is not your boyfriend. This is not a contract.

But if you talk about it, it could be, and you don’t understand why that scares you so much. Do you have commitment issues? What the fuck is your problem?

You probably wouldn’t have a problem at all, if you’d just had the time Saturday night to figure out what the kiss meant. But now that a whole day has passed and you haven’t seen him and you don’t know for sure, your mind keeps wandering down paths it should have stayed away from.

What if it’s a friends with benefits situation and you’ve just read too much into it? Maybe this is all he wants, making out, spending late nights together getting physical. Maybe that’s all. A heated makeout session on a roof doesn’t mean he feels the way you do. And do you even know how you feel? Fucking hell.

It’s the anxiety talking, the more logical part of you says, the part that sounds an awful lot like Maki. Your friends aren’t around to tell you how stupid you’re being, so the only texts you and Takuma have sent since Saturday night are playlists and song lyrics skirting around whatever truths you’re trying and failing to articulate.

Do I Wanna Know floats from the speaker on your desk, your phone next to your head on the bed, facedown and dormant. Do I wanna know if this feeling goes both ways?

Your door slams open and you jump up, whirling around to find Maki with her arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “Alright,” she says. “That’s the tenth time I’ve heard that godforsaken song. What the fuck is up with you?”

When you don’t respond, she steps inside and closes the door behind her, pauses the music, and then makes herself comfortable on the edge of your bed. “Talk to me,” she says. “You’re driving yourself crazy.” The words stall in your throat, useless, stagnant things as you avoid her knowing stare, instead staring at the popcorn ceiling until it blurs.

Maki sighs and shifts entirely onto the bed, turning herself to face you.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you say lamely.

“You’re driving me crazy, Skip,” she tries, and she knows you so fucking well, because the guilt trip is exactly what dislodges all those words built up in the back of your mouth—she breaks the dam and you spill your soul onto the quilted comforter, rambling, a rush of truths and things you thought you’d hidden from yourself but you can’t anymore. And she just listens, not looking away once.

You tell her everything: that you know you catch feelings fast, too fast. That despite your bleeding heart, you haven’t really been in a long-term relationship since high school. That you think of the future, of all the places you want to go, all the things you want to do, and there’s no guy in those dreams, and the thought of restructuring the life you’ve planned out for yourself around a boy who might be temporary is too much to even fathom. That—

“I kissed him,” you say breathlessly, bordering on hysterical, and you feel so stupid, this worked up over something so small, something that should be good. “I kissed him and now it feels real and now I’m freaking out.”

“I can see that,” Maki says calmly. “Let me ask you something. What is the worst thing that could happen, if you date him and it doesn’t last?”

“I…” You chew on your bottom lip, mind spinning through every bad outcome. “He could end up hating me, Maki. I could get some crazy job and have to leave, or he would come with me and leave his whole life behind and then he’d grow to resent me and we’d just be in some kind of hellish limbo until one of us snapped. Or he could—he could leave me, or we could try long distance and he could fall in love with somebody else, or I could, or—or—”

You flounder for a second, realizing your biggest worry is the one most immediate, the one most central to your life as it exists right now.

You’ve been sitting here thinking about big-picture things that are so far out, trying to make the feeling curdling in your gut feel like a valid reaction to a major life event. But that’s not what this is.

You’re just really, stupidly, pathetically scared that Takuma kissed you and didn’t mean it.

“Or—I guess that’s not the issue. Not really,” you admit quietly, not looking at Maki. She probably already knows. She has a way of knowing exactly what’s bothering you and just asking the right questions, getting you to talk yourself out of whatever hole your anxious mind has dug.

“I—it was just a kiss. What if he doesn’t want something serious right now, and I like him this way and he just wants something casual? I can’t do casual, Maki,” you say, raking a hand through your hair. “And it could fuck up this thing we have going. Yuji and Toge get along so well, and Nobara and the boys and Kirara, and Megumi’s your cousin, and I don’t wanna cause some weird, awkward rift, you know what I mean?”

Because it’s been so good, getting to know them. You don’t want to fuck up the dynamic just because you caught feelings too fast.

Maki leans back against your wall, humming as she thinks this over. “Okay. First of all, take a step back. Do you actually think you and Ino dating or not dating or whatever would mean I stop talking to my cousin? Or Nobara to the guys?” She raises a brow at you, unimpressed. “Seriously. I love you, Skipper, but you do not have that much power. These relationships existed before you knew Ino. Yuji is incapable of having conflict with anybody. And Toge doesn’t give a fuck about awkward relationship drama, he just wants to play Smash.”

As she speaks, you can feel your heart settling back into its home in your chest. Maki always knows what to say. Always.

“Second: Let me put it this way.” She levels you with a serious look. “You are so worked up about all these incredibly hypothetical situations. If you shut this down now, if you don’t act on what happened on Saturday, you’re still going to be worked up about hypotheticals. They’ll just be different ones. I know you, Skipper, you’re gonna drown yourself in what ifs. So you have to pick the lesser evil. There’s an unknown factor either way. Which one is gonna be worse?”

You groan, faceplanting into your bedspread. In the process, your forehead must hit play on your phone, because all of a sudden Arctic Monkeys blasts through the JBL again and Maki is grabbing your phone and saying, “Absolutely not. Nope. We are done with that.”

You look up at her helplessly. “Do I wanna know?” you choke out, half-laughing. “Because if I’m taking this out of proportion, if he doesn’t feel this way and I’m just another girl he kissed—”

“You’re not,” she says firmly. “Are you kidding me? Skip. That boy kisses the ground you walk on.” She shakes her head, some mix of fondness of exasperation flashing across her face. “You already know. The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.”

Your door slams open, and Nobara strolls in and puts her hands on her hips. She glares at Maki and then at you.

“Please tell me I’m wrong,” she says, and you know you’re in for it, “but I believe you both had significant relationship developments this weekend and didn’t immediately call me? What the fuck? Spill.”

Abruptly, you feel like the worst friend in the world. Not necessarily because you haven’t filled Nobara in—she hasn’t been home—but because Maki is flushing pink, and you left her alone with Yuta on purpose, and it’s Monday, and you haven’t even asked what happened.

You look at Nobara. “Close the door.”

She does, but she doesn’t sit down, choosing instead to pace the room as she speaks. “Exhibit A: the plants have name tags and the handwriting is not Yuta’s. Exhibit B: I just came from down the street and Ino is acting weird as fuck.”

You sit straight up, suddenly on high alert. “Weird how? Did he say anything?”

“No. Like, the entire time. That’s the weird as fuck part.”

You turn to Maki, trying to read her. “Okay, what happened with Yuta? Was it when I left? Because if I wasn’t obvious enough—“

“You were very obvious, thank you,” Maki says, her blush deepening. “Uh, we made dinner. As you know.”

“It was good.”

Maki is pointedly looking everywhere but at you and Nobara, gaze darting from the ceiling to the bedspread to the door, as if she might escape the conversation. You hadn’t even noticed the plant name tags. That’s maybe the most sappy gesture that’s ever come from Maki Zenin.

“Mm. Yeah. Uh,” she says, eloquently. “We might have kissed. We might be… together.”

“Maki!” you and Nobara both scream, which results in Toge nearly breaking down your bedroom door five seconds later.

“What?” he demands. He clocks Maki’s bright red face and grins widely. “Aha! Yes. Good.”

“Wh—”

“Yuta won’t look me in the eyes, so I figured. You wanted to tell us all at once?”

Maki nods sheepishly.

“Too late!” Toge says cheerfully. “And he’s not home. So we can take this quality girls’ time to—”

“You are a man.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me,” Toge tells Nobara, hand over his heart.

She swats at him in response and flops onto your floor, and Toge drops down beside her, you and Maki leaning over the edge of your bed to see them both.

"I ate your love pasta," you tell Maki, and she groans.

"This is why I don't tell you people things."

After the appropriate appoint of freaking out about Maki and Yuta (of course I knew, I always know, Nobara says), they make you go through the whole of Saturday night in detail.

You leave out the part about Takuma’s dad. That doesn’t feel like your story to tell.

When you get to I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Nobara blinks at you, and the innocent expression on her face means whatever she’s about to say is anything but. “So he told you you’re not like other girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

“Oh, shit, Skipper!” Toge nearly shouts from the floor. “We have to go, like, two minutes ago.”

“Shit!” You scramble off the bed, shoving your laptop into your bag and weaving around Nobara, who has made no move to get off the floor. You and Toge have your usual Monday night class time to do field reporting, and you’re meeting up with Geto and Utahime.

The front door clicks open and closed, and you grin at Maki, who goes red. Yuta’s home. God, you wish you could stay for this.

“Hi, Yuta! Bye, Yuta!” you call on the way out the door, patting him on the head, and Toge follows suit with a much more aggressive motion that messes up Yuta’s hair.

“Oh, hi! Um. Bye?” Yuta’s startled laugh follows you out the door, and then you’re on your way.

You’re always on your way back to The Fix, eventually.

—

Utahime, notably a happier person in general when Gojo’s not around, lets Toge into the back to get some photos of the storeroom. That leaves you alone with Geto, back on the same stool as last time, phone on the counter as you watch him work, talking as he goes.

“Finished inventory,” he says, typing something rapidly on his laptop, “and now it’s budgeting. And yeah, that’s about what it looks like on the day to day. What else did you want to know?”

Geto is remarkably easy to talk to. He’s soft-spoken and articulate, a good listener, and you find yourself forgetting it’s an interview after a while, lost in conversation. You learn that he studied business in school, so opening an establishment like this wasn’t much of a stretch. He handles the finances and hiring, and he’s the one working with Panda on the Battle of the Bands. Gojo and Utahime bartend, Nanami is security, and Shoko handles everything else. It’s a small team, he says, but they work.

“I wanted to be able to be home for the girls when they were growing up, and this wound up being a great way to do that, schedule-wise,” he tells you. “And now they’re here, which is great. I wouldn’t say I ever saw myself opening a bar, back in college, but now that I’m here and Shoko and I have been running the place for a while, I’m not sure where else I ever could’ve ended up, y’know?”

You nod, head propped in your hand with your elbow on the counter. “So is this the dream? The endgame?” you ask. “Think you’ll stay a while?”

“Well,” he says, closing the laptop, “I think it comes down to doing something because you love it, not because other people love that you do it. Though right now, both of those things are true, which is fortunate for me." He leans on the bar counter, head tilted as he considers his words.

"If the work makes you happy, if the people there make you feel the same way, I think that’s worth hanging on to," he says. "If I ever stop loving the work, I suppose I’ll move on. I don’t see that happening, really, but if it does, I’ll roll with it. Whatever comes after.”

“That makes sense.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Man, I wish the career thing was that clear-cut now. I know I have time, but it’s weird to think about.”

“Would you ever go further than this with the band, you think?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. “Or is the journalism thing pretty much what your heart’s set on?”

You’ve thought about it. Drumming makes you feel alive like very few other things do, but you love writing, reporting, meeting people and telling their stories. You want to go for editor-in-chief next year when Tsumiki graduates, but the reality is that you won’t have so much time for the band if you get the job. And you love your band.

Not that it’ll be the same, anyway, without Maki and Yuta. That’s something you don’t love to think about.

“I don’t know,” you confess, sheepishly realizing you’re still recording, that you’re supposed to be the one asking the questions. “I don’t think… that the band is ever necessarily going to be a professional thing. Maki and Yuta have all these big career plans. And it’s like, how much do I invest in that now, knowing it’s not… forever? When the journalism thing, the career, might be? I don’t know.”

“You know, I don’t think it matters all that much whether it’s forever,” Geto shrugs. “If it gave you what you needed at the time, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

He glances up at you, taking in the lines of your face, the tapping of your fingers against your other arm. You kind of feel like he sees something you don’t.

“Here’s some unsolicited advice, kid. On the record. Maybe life is short, maybe not. But regardless, your heart is not a finite thing.” His eyes are soft but not sad, serious but with a sort of levity that’s wise and not regretful. You think, idly, that you would find it very hard not to trust him. “If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.”

Something tells you he’s not talking about the band anymore. Or maybe that’s just you, looking for answers where there aren’t any.

“Thanks, Geto,” you say, turning off the recording. “This has been really helpful.”

Your heart is not a finite thing. And you think you’ve made up your mind.

directory | prev.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222

a/n: what is this? setup for the megumi spinoff i'm writing after this? oo (sorry he was a cockblock it was for the plot, this one AND his, hehe)

[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

[jamminvroomvroom]

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

-

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

-

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

-

oof

-

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

[curseofbreadbear]

@jack-o-kinnies​ ❤’d! ( bonus starter for oliver (my beloved)! )

❝ Well, she’s still functional. ❞

[cheriladycl01]

Hi! Loved your Toto fic… could I request Toto x wife!reader where they both have demanding jobs, reader is deployed in army or navy etc occupation (I know it’s out there 😂) and she’s away while he’s working a race weekend, not being able to concentrate fully only wanting his wife home, safe and sound. Thank you.

The Fight for Entertainment - Toto x MilitaryWife! Reader

Plot: Both you and Toto knew they’d be struggles in your relationship with how busy both of you were. However one weekend … seems a little too much than then rest.

Credit to mythos-writes for the GIF

Your relationship with Toto didn’t start bad. You had just come home from being deployed for the last 8 months. You hadn’t seen any family and all you wanted to was to spend two weeks in the peace of your family home rather than at base.

And for the first 3 days it was perfect. You grazed on the sofa looking after your nieces and nephews who were more than happy to see you and get hugs from their favourite auntie.

But then they wanted to go out to restaurants and then they wanted to drive 2 hours to the nearest beach and spend the whole day there.

The worst was when sport changed from lounging around in the sofa to your dad somehow having acquired some tickets. College football, then his favourite which was the NBA Basketball game you all attended.

But towards the end of what was supposed to be time relaxing your mum won your dad tickets to a Grand Prix at one of the most iconic circuits in North America.

You guys made the flight to Texas, landing in Austin in the early hours of the morning and going straight to the track for FP1 and the F2 practices that were being held there.

It was a pretty exhausting day but that is where you caught the eye of media personal and other security officers. As far as the military went you were pretty high ranking especially after all the news articles around your last deployment.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you got invited for a tour around the Mercedes Paddock. A very nice man, you remember him as he still worked there, Stephen who showed you round the whole day.

You met Toto and at first he didn’t pay too much attention to you. A small hello, before rushing off to do whatever team principles did.

It wasn’t until the end of the weekend, Lewis having won that you actually started talking to Toto.

And then you spent the rest of your time with him, until you were deployed again. He understood and it wasn’t like you guys were serious or anything.

But when he saw you for the first time in 2 months he realised just how much he’d missed you. Work was a beautiful distraction, one where he didn’t think on you being gone much as his full concentration was needed on the races he’d be travelling too.

But as you guys became more serious, the more he struggled to focus at work worried about where you were and what risks you were currently posing. But with the rank you were in, you were actually relatively safe, no longer on the front lines like you had been as a rookie when your first joined.

But you worked around how much you were both apart from one another especially after you guys agreed to marry, you would give him as many updates as humanly possible and would make time for him, whenever you had free time.

Which actually meant you started attending a lot more races, which your dad definitely wasn’t complaining about as he got free tickets every time.

However, a letter that both you and Toto dreaded came through, only 1 week after your last deployment.

“Baby” you say softly, holding the letter behind you, trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

“Yes? What it is Schatz?” He asks taking a seat on the sofa and patting next to it for you to come and take a seat.

“W-we need to talk” you breathe out knowing neither one of you will like the conversation that’s about to follow.

“What is it?” He asks, and you place the letter in front of him on his lap. He tenses seeing the government stamp on it, it being an all too familiar and hated letter in the household.

“Do you want to read it alone? Or with me here?” You ask and he shakes his head, grabbing into your hand as a means to ask you to stay with him.

He read the letter detailing that you’d be going to the frontlines of a war torn country under a protection treaty from the US Military. Something about your exceptional negotiation skills being needed.

You hadn’t been on the front lines in a while, not since you and Toto had become serious and as he’s reading it you can tell from his expressions that he’s fully taking it in.

A little wiggle of his brow in frustration, a sharp intake of breath as he presumably sees where you’ll be going.

“Baby - I” he starts and you just lean into him, pulling him into a hug and nuzzling into the side of his neck as he holds you close, trying not to let any tears fall out of his own eyes.

“You know you don’t need to do this anymore, I provide more than enough for the both of us” he exclaims looking over your face to see if you had any objections.

“You know I can’t do that, regardless of the risk I love my job and I love helping people” you smiled softly.

So that’s where today let you both, you were somewhere in a country fighting for the freedoms of thousands while Toto was providing entertainment for thousands in Miami.

But all he was thinking of was you, he hadn’t heard from you in around 2 weeks and he was starting to worry, he knew this time you’d be busy and more of the grid than he’d ever experienced in your lengthy partnership.

He’d have expected a letter or one of the media personnel to have sent a text on your behalf but there was that fear in the back of his mind that you were coming home too him.

Everyone Toto spoke to that weekend could tell something was wrong, and that it had to do with the absence of his wife as he shut people off whenever they had brought her into conversation.

Media day on Thursday was the most dismal, it wasn’t a bright day in Miami actually brining in some unexpected rain which brought the already down mood in Mercedes even lower.

George and Lewis refused to answer any questions unless they were purely racing related and the affect Toto had on his team was obvious. The rigramole that was where you currently were and why Toto was seemingly affecting the whole team with his bad mood.

The FP1 and FP2 results on Friday also reflected the lack of energy the team seemed to have, having slow practice pit stops, both drivers making rookie mistakes and Toto being angrier than usual.

However by the time Saturday came around things were looking brighter. The usual Miami sun had returned and a few of the Mercedes team members had found a certain rumour of interest that brightened their mood.

So when Sunday came around and they were listening to the anthem, the few that knew what was about ti happen were bouncing on the balls of their feet, anticipated to see their bosses reaction.

You, you were there holding the flag for your country as it was a states race. You’d be asked seeing as you were dismissed early from your deployment for such a good job, and having only had a small break since your last deployment.

So there you were, coming out of the helicopter down a rope as you walk the flag as the National anthem sounds on the speakers.

You pull your helmet fully off and your looking for any sign of Toto.

First you look eyes with some of the mechanics that were aware of this trying to remain respectful for the anthem but being excited that maybe this weekend would turn out better than they had thought at the start of the long weekend.

Then it drifts to the drivers and your immediately looking for the two British drivers in the black race suit and eventually you find the shocked look of Lewis and George, before smiles crown their faces.

“And presenting the flag for us today, Sargent Y/L/N” is spoke just as the anthem ends and you raise the flag up the pole.

Toto watches on with tears in his eyes only having just noticed it was you. He was so confused as to why you were there so early but he wasn’t going to complain.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you pulled up the flag to its full glory.

He waits, waits for permission to come see you and stand by you. You were called here on purpose right, it was for him? So he could see you?

He waited to get the nod off approval to come and pull you into a hug.

He stopped at arms length looking over you, he loved seeing you in your uniform, in his mind it was the most attractive you looked.

“Schatz?” He asks in disbelief. He pulls you into a hug and kisses all over your face, bending down due to his tall frame.

“Thought I’d surprise you! I missed you” you grin happily and he just keeps a hold of you.

“You happier now boss? Can we go racing?” One of the mechanics teases from the side.

“Yeah, jeez get your team together man” Lewis adds.

“Now that Y/N’s here it’s going to be a great weekend” George exclaims happily and you smile at the team as they continue to tease Toto.

And what a weekend it ended up being. Not only did they have Lewis as race winner, but George in P3 making it a double Mercedes podium.

And it’s safe to say, that you weren’t deployed for a while after that race which your husband was more than happy about.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[pepperonidk]

9:10 p.m. || k.mg

Pairing: mingyu x gn!reader Summary: just some sleepy time tv time with your best boy Warnings: suggestive Word Count: 540

a/n: had a migraine, called in sick at work, and spent the whole day watching totally spies. 9/10 experience, but mingyu's the 1 i need. i'm on a mingyu kick lately

main masterlist || taglist

“So they’re… spies?” 

“Yeah,” you replied. “It’s literally called Totally Spies. That’s the whole thing.” 

You felt Mingyu’s chest rumble from behind you as he chuckled. You snuggled further into him and he pulled the blanket up higher over the two of you. 

“And you used to watch this when you were little?” he asked curiously. 

You hummed in confirmation. “The gadgets, the fashion, it was iconic. This was my James Bond.” You turned your head up to see Mingyu smiling, still watching the TV and leaned up to press a kiss against his neck. He chuckled again at the way your lips tickled his skin. 

"How did they even become spies?" he asked.

"Honestly, I forget," you answered him. "But I think they just randomly kind of fell into it. They were just normal rich teenage girls in Beverly Hills." He nodded as he kept watching, the girls fighting a handsome jewel thief on the TV.

“I have to admit,” he began, his words stretching into a yawn. “It is pretty cool to watch.” 

“Sleepy?” you asked. 

“A little,” he confessed, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist in a cozy embrace. “But we don’t have to go to bed just yet.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, baby,” he smiled down at you. “It’s the first time I’ve been able to spend the night with you in weeks.” 

“And you wanna spend it watching Totally Spies with me?” you chuckled. 

“I wanna spend it with you,” he corrected. 

You shifted in his lap, turning to straddle him instead so you could see his face directly. He smiled and lifted a hand to your cheek. 

“Have I told you lately what a cheese ball you are?” 

He shrugged and reached his other hand to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. “Not in the last 24 hours at least,” he smiled. 

“Well you are a cheese ball,” you teased.

“And you love me for it,” he pressed a kiss against your cheek as you squealed. 

“And I love you for it,” you confirmed with a laugh. Mingyu continued to press ticklish kisses against your skin. As you tried to pull yourself away from him, he pulled you tighter into his embrace and eventually fell into laughter with you. He pressed one final sweet kiss against your lips before finally relenting and letting you go. 

“What was that about?” you asked with a smile. It was the type of kiss that still made you blush even after all this time. 

“Missed kissing you,” Mingyu shrugged, leaning into you to kiss you again. He reached a hand behind your neck, as if he wasn’t close enough to you. He tasted like the strawberry candy he’d been snacking on during your tv session and you smiled against his lips. 

When you finally broke for air, Mingyu looked flushed. Before he could lean in for another, however, you stood up from the couch and reached a hand down to him. “Let’s go to bed,” you coaxed. 

He pouted up at you as he rubbed circles against your hand in his. “I’m not sleepy,” he protested. 

You smiled playfully at him before tugging him up anyway. “I didn’t say we were going to sleep.”

taglist: @yksthings @alonelystarfish @celestialchans @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @jespecially

[mascdestr0yer]

BE CAREFUL

spiderwoman!paige x fem!reader

Warnings: overuse of italics, fluff, angst, slight cursing ?

Synopsis: paige got a lil hurt..

A/N: this is placed in ny city, for obvious reasons, it’s based off of the iconic scene we all know and love, if you don’t know the scene, well..

PAIGE LAID IN YOUR BED, watching you as you studied hour after hour.

“you can’t invite me over and just study, that’s very rude,” She began stretching, then she walked over to your desk, closing your book, grabbing your calculator.

“paige!—“ you huffed, not too upset, you had been ignoring the girl. “i didn’t invite you, you came over by yourself.”

“Literally the same thing— do you treat all your guests like this?” she shakes her head with faux disappointment. “Come on, let’s watch a movie, i know you want to,” she smirked, gently pulling you to your bed.

“maybe a little..”

“atta girl, come on,” she patted the spot next her.

The two were halfway through some romcom movie, “my mom is having her new boyfriend over and he’s going to be spending some nights over here more often, so i was wondering if we could hang out at your place instead..?”

“yeah, sure, i thought you like your mom’s new boyfriend?” she questions, fiddling her zipper on her jacket.

“i do—but, i just want to hangout with no interruptions and he’s so pushy.” your voice was soft, paige could tell you weren’t trying to sound rude.

She let out a chuckle in return,“excuses excuses..”

“i mean, if wanna meet him that’s fine by me.”

“i’d love too,” her smirk was too wide for you liking.

“why do you look like that..?”

“like what? this is my face, it’s awfully rude to judge someone off things they can’t change, especially, if they saved your life,” Of course she had to use the save your life.

“okay spider-girl,” you rolled your eyes, closing your laptop.

“first off, it’s spiderwoman to you, secondly i was watching that.”

It’s been a couple days without seeing each other, school would usually be the time you guys had at least some time together but, unfortunately it was spring break.

You both were busy so it was understandable, so here you were typing away trying to finish you Ap lit paper before break was over, you’ve been procrastinating all month.

Now as the due date nears the paper is all you can think about. Your laptop feels like it could explode from how long it’s been on.

you hear a soft but, loud enough knock at your window, “come in.”

You get out of your seat, walking over to her, “you know, when i said you can come over whenever i didn’t mean through my window, my mom would kill me,”

she chuckled and stumbled out of the window, she had three long claw marks on her back, “paige, what—what happened?”

“you should see the other guy..” she joked as you sat her down, “—the other guy… in this instance being a giant mutant lizard,”

“Hey, y/n, do you wanna have rice Krispy treats? your mom’s making rice Krispy treats,” you could hear your mom’s boyfriend, edwin, say down the hall. that makes you jump up and rush to your door. paige quickly gets out of your chair to hide.

you opened the door, out of breath, “no, edwin, i do not want rice Krispy treats , honestly—i’m seventeen years old,” you say way harsher than you’d like.

“well, i just thought i remembered someone saying last week that her fantasy was to live in a marshmallow house,” Edwin raised a brow, he decided not to question the other of breath situation.

“well, that’s impractical,” you closed your door and then reopened it, “and fatning,” you closed you door again.

you looked at paige who was sat ln the floor behind you chair, “marshmallow house,” she teased, you just rolled your eyes.

you reopened your door, “m’sorry edwin, i just can’t have rice Krispy treats right now, i’m—i’m working on this paper and like it’s due soon so, you don’t even wanna know.”

He just nods his and walks away, you sighed.

the taller girl winced as cleaned her wound, throwing her head back slightly.

“his—his tail was like humongous..” she started, you grimaced at the sight of her trembling body.

“shh.. it’s okay,” you cooed, you tried to bandage the girl quickly but, tight enough so it wouldn’t hurt her. when you were finished the two of you laid on your bed, you gently combed your fingers through her hair.

“thank you..” it muffled by your shirt that she had her face buried in.

“you’re welcome, just be more careful next time.. you know i’m not always gonna be here,” you responded softly.

“you’re not allowed to talk like that,” her grip on your shirt tightened.

“okay okay..” you chuckled.

“it’s not funny,”

sorry if it’s too short, hope you guys liked it, taglist: @aerinaga @danc1ngqu33n @darlindayss @secretlifeofmarii @aavasstuff @h34rtsformilli @ajcuteee @naipoohh @theendofevangelionnn @mrsengstler @thebignunfun @tired-duckling @julienbakerloverr @mrsarnold @slut4uconnwbb @abbyswif3 @svudetective @liviiyyy @hellokittyfeenie @paigeslanyard @latenighttalkinqwp @ashortyluvsports @kittykatz1227 @seraphicgrll @paulamdm @patscorner @addil244 @1-800-fantasy @typicalkith

[emeraldelysian]

Park Seonghwa ✧ Piece By Piece

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Requested By: @acciocriativity Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You decide to surprise your boyfriend with a gift he's always dreamed of. Wordcount: 1.0K+ Warnings: If you're allergic to cuteness, please look away Note: This is just so wholesome and cute. I'm so sorry again for how long this took to get out, but I hope you enjoy it!

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The idea of surprising Seonghwa with something special had been on your mind for a while. He was always so loving and expressed it with the sweetest gestures, so you had been trying endlessly to figure out the perfect gift to show your appreciation for it. Seonghwa wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend, your confidant, and your biggest supporter. You wanted to give him something that would show just how much he meant to you.

One chilly autumn evening, you were snuggled on the couch, idly scrolling through TikTok. A video popped up that instantly warmed your heart. It featured a girlfriend who had surprised her boyfriend with an extraordinarily large and expensive Star Wars LEGO set. The boyfriend’s reaction was priceless—filled with glee and child-like wonder. Your thoughts immediately turned to Seonghwa and his unabashed love for Star Wars and all things lego. He had mentioned wanting that particular LEGO set countless times but always decided against it because of his busy schedule.

An idea began to blossom in your mind. Over the months, you had noticed how his eyes would light up whenever he walked past a LEGO store or how he would spend hours browsing through online forums discussing the newest releases.

There was no question about it anymore: you had to get that LEGO set for him. It wasn't just about the gift itself; it was about celebrating who Seonghwa truly was. You couldn’t wait to see his face, to capture that moment when he would walk into the room and see the LEGO box waiting for him. You were determined to make this surprise one of the best moments of his life.

The next day, you set out on your mission. You had been diligently saving up for a gift to make sure that no matter what you got, it was the best one on the market. When you finally found it at a nearby toy store, you smiled, your heart swelling with anticipation at the thought of Seonghwa's reaction. You paid for it excitedly and hurried home to prepare the surprise.

As you quietly entered your apartment, lugging the massive box behind you, you noticed Seonghwa lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book. You carefully hid the box in your bedroom before calling out to him.

"Hey, love! How was your day?" you asked, trying to keep your excitement in check as you joined Seonghwa on the couch.

He looked up from his book, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, comforting warmth. "It was good, just the usual hustle at work. How about yours?"

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, hiding the bubbling anticipation beneath the surface. "Pretty good! Did some shopping, nothing special." You hoped your face didn't betray the secret you were hiding. Seonghwa, as perceptive as he was, didn't seem to pick up on anything unusual, thankfully.

As you both settled into your evening routine, the hours seemed to crawl by. Dinner had never gone by so slowly, and each moment felt like an eternity as you eagerly awaited the perfect time to reveal your surprise. After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen was tidied up, you suggested watching a movie.

"How about we watch one of the Star Wars films?" you proposed, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up instantly. "I would never say no to that. Which one do you have in mind?"

"How about Empire Strikes Back?" you suggested, knowing full well it was one of his favorites. As the iconic opening crawl began, you watched Seonghwa's face glow with excitement, and you excused yourself to 'grab a blanket.'

Rushing to the bedroom, you grabbed the massive LEGO set from its hiding spot and hauled it into the living room. The box was nearly as big as a coffee table, the image of the intricate Star Destroyer emblazoned on its side. You carefully positioned it near the couch, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

"Hey, close your eyes for a second," you called out to him, trying to keep your voice casual yet laced with excitement.

Seonghwa looked at you curiously. "What are you up to?" he asked, his practicality tinged with curiosity as he closed his eyes as requested.

"Keep them closed!" you insisted as you positioned the box right in front of him. Finally, taking a deep breath, you said, "Okay, open them."

His eyes fluttered open, and what followed was a moment that you would cherish forever. The look of pure, unadulterated joy that spread across Seonghwa's face made every bit of effort worth it. He was speechless, his eyes darting between you and the gigantic LEGO set as if trying to confirm it was real.

"How did you- when did you-" he stammered, enveloping you in a bear hug that almost knocked you over.

You laughed, unable to contain your excitement. “Surprise! I know you’ve always wanted it, and I thought, why not get it for you? You deserve it, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa's eyes shimmered as he blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “I- You didn't- You didn’t have to… thank you, truly.” He wrapped you in a tight embrace, his excitement completely contagious.

“I’m glad you like it.” You smiled, your heart fluttering as you hugged him back.

The next few hours flew by as Seonghwa eagerly unpacked the LEGO set, and the two of you began assembling it together. Laughter filled the apartment as you experienced small mishaps—misplaced pieces and confused instructions—but those moments only brought you closer. You shared stories and enjoyed each other’s company, the air sweet with the scent of hot cocoa you had prepared.

“Piece by piece, just like our relationship,” Seonghwa mused, his eyes warm as he glanced at you.

You smiled, placing another brick carefully. “Exactly.”

Before you knew it, the cold autumn evening had given way to a starry night, and the almost-completed LEGO set sat proudly on your living room table. Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you. For this, and for everything. You make my life brighter every day.”

[dearestaussiechannie]

☆♡ We're both stressed ♡☆ — Bang Chan

word count: 3.1k

paring: Chan x afab!reader

genre: angst/fluff

warnings: afab!reader, established relationship, crying, stress, mentions of shouting, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, love), bestfriend!Jisung, stressed!Chan, comfort, if I left anything out lmk, kinda proofread? (sorry!)

It's been a rough couple of months with the comeback and all the stress that comes with it. Wanting to spend more time with Chan but being unable to due to the ungodly amount of hours he's been spending in the studio with Jisung and Changbin. The little amount of time you got to see him while they were preparing for the comeback has now doubled.

That's why right now you're laying on that iconic couch that sits in the studio, mindlessly scrolling through the many socials that you have on your phone. Luckily it's just the two of you inside since Changbin and Jisung had said that they wanted to freshen up with showers or food, leaving the two of you to just be in the others presence, something that the two of you hadn't gotten in weeks.

While you lay there just scrolling on your phone, you see the multiple fan accounts that you follow talking about their comeback announcements. You giggle at the ones about the other members, specifically Jisungs, sending them to him mimicking the comments when you text him. “He’S sO hAwT!?!?” After doing this a couple of times, you keep scrolling and you see the ones about your one and only Chan.

You try your best to hold back your laughs after seeing all the comments about how hot he looks in his new photos, some even cause the laugh to slip only for you to look at Chan to make sure you haven’t disturbed his work in any way. All you can feel is pride that you managed to be the one that he has chosen to be with… that is until you scroll a little further.

Your heart sinks when you find all the ones talking about how his future someone has such large shoes to fill. One stood out the most to you, even though in your best judgement, it shouldn't have. “I bet if he gets someone, she'll be too insecure and cause him way more stress than he needs or wants. Must be sad yk?”

Does Chan know that they say these things about him and his future someone? He must with how much he takes what they say into consideration. But why hasn't he said anything to you about it? Is that maybe what he thinks as well? As thoughts begin to wreck your already oversensitive brain, you stare into the back of his head.

Almost like instinct, you hear a loud huff and the sound of his headphones crashing onto his desk. “You know, I can feel you staring holes into the back of my head Y/N.” He says, running his hand through his dark brown hair, turning in his chair to look at you. You look down when you hear him speak, causing him to sigh softly before rolling the chair closer to you. “Where did the guys go? Thought they were going to the bathroom or something.” “Well, that's kinda what they said.. Han went to get himself something to eat and Bin wanted a shower so god knows what he's doing now since that was 45 minutes ago.”

He lets out a grumble before going back to what he was doing on his laptop, starting to bounce his leg. “Is there something that you need help with?” you ask him before slowly walking over to him causing him to jump and suddenly shut his laptop, before looking up at you with shocked eyes. The sudden motion shocks you to say the least but you just show a sad smile before walking back over to the couch for a few minutes only to leave not soon after to give him the privacy he suddenly seemed like he needed.

About a week has passed since then and you're currently sitting in the dorms with almost everyone for a movie night. The sight still plastered in your brain as if it happened 20 minutes ago, him shutting his laptop and giving you that look. Sighing shakily, you nestle deeper into your spot on the couch between Jisung and Changbin, Chan choosing not to attend the movie saying “he still has too much to work on” or you’d be cuddled up to him like you usually did during these events.

It seems that the two beside you notice your behaviour, looking between each other before Jisung taps your shoulder. “Hey, is everything alright? You seem off.” he asks you, only causing your mind to race worse. You look at him with a small smile before slowly nodding. If he's noticed how you’re acting that means so has everyone else making you do a quick glance over the whole room, seeing everyones eyes locked on the movie that was playing on the screen. “I’m fine Sungie, don't worry that pretty brain of yours and enjoy the movie.” you whisper back to him before silently excusing yourself from the room.

You find yourself in front of his bedroom door, just staring at it. It makes your heart race with your mind as you think about what's on the other side of this door. Your beloved slaving away over his laptop, eyes most likely bloodshot and dry from the hours he spends staring at it. A small flat spot probably pressed into his hair from his headphones, back with an arch that will make him complain that he needs to fix his posture tomorrow and probably the worlds largest bundle of stress.

Before you could stop yourself, you knock. You can hear the sound of his chair moving around before he suddenly swings the door open. He quickly looks you up and down, sighing before his lip twitches up on the left side. “Hello love, why aren't you watching the movie with the others?” He asks you, leaning against the door frame.

Without realising it, you'd been holding your breath. Suddenly you shakily exhale while looking up at his face, eyes scanning his features as if you hadn't seen him in months even though its only been a few hours. It really did feel like it's been that long though. “Oh.. I just wanted to come check on you.. Movie was boring and Jisung kept laughing so loud in my ears.” you lied, that's not really why you were here.

He stepped to the side, allowing you to enter the room before walking over to his chair and closing his laptop again. There it was again, the stinging pain in your chest. Normally if he ever shut his laptop like this, it meant you had his full attention but the past couple of times, it had felt like he doesn't trust you. It hurts.

“Well as you can see I'm fine but you can stay in here if you want to.” he says before turning his back to you, blocking your view of whatever is on his screen and placing his headphones back on. Fine? Is that what you'd call this sight? Because you don't think so. Which causes your next wrong moves. You start insisting that he take a break, use some eye drops, eat or drink something, stand up and stretch, the basic things he should do after sitting at a screen for hours.

The two of you begin to argue about it causing you to raise your voice a little in worry, your own anxiety flowing into the words without you realizing and neither does he. “If you're just going to lecture me and distract me from my work, you're more than welcome to leave.” he says a bit harshly, venom on his tongue. He doesn't even look at you before his fingers start to swim against his keys again, losing all interest in the fact that you, his girlfriend, is standing right there.

Your eyes sting as you walk out, shutting the door a bit harshly, grabbing the others in the living rooms attention. You fly through the room with your head down, not wanting anyone to see your tears, slipping on your shoes and out the front door after quickly grabbing your keys and coat. The others simply look at each other then back in the direction of Chans room.

It's now been two weeks since movie night and your fight with Chan and you aren't answering any texts you get from the members, fearing that it'll only make this pain worse. All you can think about is his voice the way he spoke to you that night. The way hes been acting towards you for whats just barely short of a month. Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of your phone going off the rails. You look down not planning to answer but when the name pops up, your gaze softens. “Sungie Sweetie” is displayed with a silly photo of the boy. You didn’t want to answer but if anyone was as worked up about everything that suddenly happened, it'd be Jisung.

You sniffle as you watch it go to voicemail. The notification “10 missed calls from Sungie Sweetie” displays on the screen for the fifth time today alone. Before you can swipe away the notification, he's calling again. You rub your eyes before you decide to answer. Before you can even get out a hello, you hear his voice crack. “Oh my god you answered! Y/N its Jisung! Do you know how long I've been trying to get you to answer the phone? NO daily memes, no stupid comment mimics in my dms, NOTHING! Where are you? Are you-”

“Ji, you're rambling again.” you say with a small smile even though he can't see it. You can hear his shaky breath, before he begins to whisper. “You haven't answered anyone in days, as your best friend, that's not okay.” he says and you have to fight a giggle. “I’m okay Ji, I just.. Needed some time to myself.” you lie to him which causes guilt to fill your chest. You don't realise but he has the same feeling since he's not telling you the whole truth either.

You see, without your knowledge, you're currently on speaker where not only can Jisung hear you, so can Changbin who is biting his nails. Both of them have been worried sick about you after everyone had assumed you and Chan fought. That thought had been sealed when Chan came out of his room in a rough state, slamming doors and everything else that he opened, glares to everywhere in the dorms as if he's looking for something to soften his gaze on, on you.

Jisung clears his throat before he speaks, “So, when are you coming back over? I’ve got a couple of new games, Bin needs his hype man back, lix needs his taste tester, Minho needs someone to eat the extra food he makes, Seungmin complains that you're not here for him to bully, I.n says that you're the only person in this house that makes him genuinely laugh and Hyunjin has said, and I'm not even playing, ten times that he needs his muse back so he can continue his art.” 

He rambled about everything without even thinking about it, the room now filled by everyone he’d mentioned.  He looked around at everyone with a finger over his lips, signalling them to be quiet but as if they'd even speak, no one knows what to say. “Ji?..” they all hear that shake in your voice causing them all to look around at each other then quickly to him. “Yes love?” he says with no hesitation.

“You didn't… you didn't say Chan..” you say as the tears have begun to fall down your face like a waterfall of hot water. They could all hear you crying, no one knew what to do. You'd always hid your emotions. As their leaders girlfriend, you were just as head strong as he was, never showing what you actually felt unless behind closed doors. “Y/n… Chans been locked in either his room or the studio since you left. Changbin and I haven't been able to set foot in there without getting yelled at..”

The thought of Chan yelling at the people who care most for him saddens you more but it also really pisses you off. Before you even realise what you're doing, you've got shoes on and you're out your front door. The call with Jisung (and everyone else) does not end, it just becomes silent.

About 10 minutes go by and they all think that you've muted yourself for a cry but your voice suddenly rips through the room. “Sungie?” the fearful looks all shift to him as they hear the name, making Minho and I.n fight for their lives not to laugh. He looks at the floor and smiles “yes Y/Nie?” he replies quickly flipping the two now red in the face off.

“Come unlock the door, yeah?”

You're in the kitchen of the dorms as everyone surrounds you whispering so many questions to you but all you can do is look at Jisung and say “where is he?” before he slowly points to the hallway. You scuff as you wipe your nose and shake off your coat, hearing it hit the floor only for someone to pick it up and put it by the door.

Once in the hall, you make it to a door but you don’t knock or announce that you're walking inside, you just do it. “How dare you?” is all you can say before big brown eyes are looking at you. There's emotion in them and you can see the way that they shift from anger to surprise to guilt. He stares at you before slowly standing up, opening his mouth. “Don't you dare speak. I've got things to say, Christopher Bahng.”

“First of all, if your girlfriend leaves your dorm crying because of what you said to her, a decent boyfriend would TRY to follow her out to make sure shes okay. Second, don't EVER let me hear that you've YELLED at them simply because you're in a bad mood because of something you caused. Third, tell me why it's Ji that had to call me 50 times a day for TWO WEEKS to get me to come back. Do you know how much I've longed to see your name pop up on my phone Christopher?” 

By now you're crying without even noticing, your voice just barely above a shout until you realise Chan is staring at the floor. This only causes you to shake with emotion, “look at me!” you say, voice now a desperate shout, whole body shaking, eyes wide once his finally meet yours. You see the emotions switching over and over, the bright red where his eyes should be white, the bags and puffiness and you finally realise the way his whole body is shaking.

“Chan, I..” you start but he quickly cuts you off, his arms engulfing you into him as he pulls you both down to your knees on his bedroom floor, sobs filling the room. His whole body is shaking against you in what feels like frozen time, your hands instinctively finding his hair and rubbing his back as he cries and you do the same. The stress had finally broken the two of you only for you to break in front of the other. 

“Y/N.. I'm so so so sorry. Jisung told me everything when you left two weeks ago but I was so hyper focused on work that I neglected your feelings and noticing how you felt. I have no idea what was going through me or how it affected you but I know that I hurt you the other night when you were simply trying to help. That's why you're my light.” He says as he sobs into your neck, arms tightening around you, afraid you might push him away.

You turn your head towards the door to see the others all in the doorway after hearing you yell at their leader, the strongest guy they know now crying on the floor clinging to his girlfriend for what looked like dear life. When they see you looking at them, they quickly scurry away not wanting to ruin the moment that they all knew you both needed. “Channie.. sweetheart, look at me..” you say to him softly.

The pained look on his face makes your heart shatter as you use your sleeves to gently wipe away the tears that keep falling from his beautiful eyes. No matter how angry you are at him, seeing him like this still causes your heart to shatter into a hundred pieces. You push the wisps of hair out of his face and you let him cry as long as he needs to, feeling him relax after some time taking in deeper breaths.

“Y/n, please let's work through this. I messed up I know but I want to work on it, and if you say no then well I-” hes cut off quickly by your lips pressing into his, both of you letting out a shaky breath as you smile against his lips. “You big idiot.. I love you so much and I know that stress got the both of us, you don't need to apologise to me okay? Because everything that I did was no better.. Now I think we both need to take some time and just relax okay? Nothing but the two of us..”

He nods his head feverishly quick, eyes struggling to stay open, letting out a small laugh when he hears you speak. “You look like your body might crash the second I let you go.” “Can't sleep without you by my side.. Been getting maybe an hour or two of sleep a day.” is all that he can reply with before his eyes are closing lulling him to go to sleep right now.

After some convincing, he's taken a shower and you've changed his sheets, cleaned up all the trash in his room, organised his desk getting him a fresh warm towel and a clean set of clothes, you're both now curled in his bed. There's a movie playing on the tv but neither of you had paid any attention to it, too focused on the weight of being in each others arms.

You're playing with his hair while his head is laying on your chest, eyes closed as he's starting to finally feel his whole body relax, the stress you were both feeling only an hour ago now completely gone. There's a small hum that escapes him causing you to look down at him, met by a sleepy smile.

“I love you, Y/n, so much.”

“I love you too Channie, so much more.”

©️ dearestaussiechannie, all rights reserved.

Taglist: (to be added, comment or message me♡)

[taeyongdoyoung]

mind games

summary: taken away by your ex and best friend, you try to do everything in your power to survive another day... characters: reader, sunoo, sunghoon and heeseung (only mentioned in this part) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: kidnapping, reader is tied up (in a non-sexy way), mentions of fake blood, stalking, spitting, handwriting forgery, hidden cameras, invasion of privacy, blade, overall toxic behaviour, kissing, manipulation, biting, tracking device, trauma author's note: hii guys, the title is inspired by this iconic song and to be honest, i had a really hard time writing it due to some bad experiences in the past so if any of this is triggering to you, please proceed with caution! 🤍 part one & part three word count: 2.6k

You wake up in a unfamiliar place. You feel that your hands and feet and are tied up to a chair. Your surroundings are damp, near black and you can barely make out anything. You wonder if you are alone or if one of your kidnappers is somewhere out there, lurking in the dark.

How on earth did you end up here? You thought you were generally a good person. True, you started dating the guy you told your ex "not to worry about" three months after the break-up but it’s not like you cheated. Then again, bad things had the tendency of happening to good people. So maybe it’s not your fault you’re here. You’re right. It’s Sunghoon and Sunoo’s fault!

Sunghoon, you can understand. He’d always been a jealous, possessive little freak. But Sunoo? To pretend he’s your best friend and work with Sunghoon behind your back? Damnit, you should have investigated suspect number two more seriously before trusting him too much. That part is completely your fault, you admit to yourself.

"You awake?" you hear Sunoo’s adorable voice, which does little to ease your panic.

"Gee, I had a crazy nightmare, Sunnie. Dreamt that my best friend kidnapped me along with my ex. Isn’t that a good story?" you respond sarcastically.

"Listen, it would have been much easier if you came with us willingly," Sunoo pats your cheek gently.

"Willingly? How insane are you, actually?"

"Come oooon, me and Sunghoon-hyung can treat you so much better than Heeseung."

You shake your head in disbelief.

"Just tell me one thing. Were you behind the stalking as well?"

"Which part? Sunghoon took the photos of you and stole some of your clothes. But the creepy dolls covered in blood was all me."

First of all, ew. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where did you get the blood from?" you finally dare to ask.

"It’s fake blood, silly. It looks so real, right?" Sunoo cackles maniacally.

"You need help. Like serious, professional help, Sunoo. I’m only saying that because despite everything I still care about you. If you get me out of here, I’ll make sure you receive the proper treatment you need and-"

"Get you out?" he laughs again. "Why would I do that? We can be such a lovely family of three. Trust me, you’ll never want to leave."

You already want to leave.

Hours later, Sunghoon appears and Sunoo leaves. You suppose kidnappers still have jobs to go to whenever they’re not spending time with their victims. God, this is so wrong.

"How have you been, princess?" Sunghoon asks.

You don’t reward him with an answer and spit in his face. Very dumb of you but oh well.

Sunghoon wipes the spit with his gloved hand and squats in front of you.

"Not a very enthusiastic welcome, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. You’ll get used to us in no time."

"I’m not getting used to anything. Let me the fuck go!"

"Hmm, I don’t think so," Sunghoon wraps his arms around your legs like a fucking snake. He may not have bitten you but you feel his poison spreading further down your body. What if you’re meant to suffocate here?

"It’s only a matter of time before Heeseung calls the cops and they find me," you bluff. You can only hope Heeseung will come for you.

"He probably won’t. See, I wrote him a little letter. You remember how good I am at copying your handwriting? Well, I never thought it’d come in…well, pun-intended but handy. In the letter I tell Heeseung that you’re still in love with me so you’re leaving him and ran away with me. I’m so creative, aren’t I?"

"You’re sick in the head! Heeseung’s never gonna buy that!" you scream and you pray you’re right.

"Wanna check? I put hidden cameras at your place, if Heeseung was there, we can see his reaction."

God, this is worse than you thought. You really should have contacted the police earlier. Helpful or not, it would have been something.

And indeed, Sunghoon shows you a video of Heeseung opening said letter, reading it and then sighing deeply. Alas, he doesn't look in a huge hurry to find you. Or maybe, he's just that good of an actor...

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask Sunghoon, horrified now that your hope of Heeseung finding you diminishes by the hour.

"Nothing," Sunghoon replies simply. "I just wanna be with you. Away from him." The him in question is Heeseung, you deduce. "Forever."

The word forever never tasted so bitter.

"What about Sunoo? Why is he helping you?"

"I think he has a little crush on me. So I'm using him," Sunghoon shrugs, as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

First of all, a little crush is definitely an understatement. No one helps his best friend's ex kidnap his best friend over a little crush. Sunoo's feelings are reaching a dangerous magnitude. You don't dare imagine how far he'd be willing to go for Sunghoon's sake. And second of all, the fact that Sunghoon's using Sunoo and doesn't reciprocate his feelings might be helpful for you in the future. So, you tuck that information safely into your mind for later.

But until then, you gotta play the game well enough in order to survive. You never know when Sunghoon or Sunoo might snap and feel like killing you. Psychopaths like that are totally unpredictable. So, you make it your mission to smoothly pretend you have zero plans of escaping.

"Poor Sunoo," you sigh, targeting Sunghoon's jealousy issues. "And here I thought he had a crush on me and wants to share me with you."

"As beautiful as you are, not everyone on this plaent is madly in love with you, princess," Sunghoon laughs, suddenly amused by your words. "And if it's anyone doing the sharing, it'd be me. But I don't share."

He smirks darkly and kisses you. His lips are venomous poison. You kiss him back even though every bone in your body is telling you no. But after being so foolish before, you have to be clever enough now. Clever enough to trick him. Clever enough to live.

Sunghoon wraps his hands around the back of your neck, kissing you more deeply. Your tongue battles against his desperately, trying to convey every bit of your hatred and make him mistake it for love. He's laughing against your lips. But you're determined to make sure you have the last laugh.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief you kissed him back.

Yes! Y/N: 1. Sunghoon: 0.

"You taste just as I remember. Coffee."

"Your favourite taste," Sunghoon nods thoughtfully.

You don't dare tell him that lately, you like ramen more...

"You should be nice to Sunoo," you advise Sunghoon, even though it won't help you. Not immediately, anyway. "You never know when he might turn against you."

"He won't. But I'm nice enough. Or else he wouldn't have helped me in the first place."

"When did you two become so close anyway?"

"Right after you broke up with me. He would constantly call me and meet up in secret. He'd keep me posted on how you were doing. Show me pictures and stuff. He said that just because you and I were no longer together didn't mean that he couldn't be friends with me."

That sly little fox. And here you were, mistaking Sunoo for your best friend. Then again, you are no saint, either, considering you moved on with Heeseung so quickly. But after the way Sunghoon had treated you, it was only natural you were drawn by Heeseung's warmth.

"Interesting. How does he put up with your mint choco-hating ass?" you tease Sunghoon.

"He's strangely forgiving in that respect," Sunghoon responds.

You smile fondly, recalling all your mint choco dates with your best friend. You will never forgive him.

A while later, Sunoo returns, immediately brightening up the room with his presence. But now you know it's all a façade. The real him is not the sun, but the darkest sky.

"Heyyy, hyung, missed me?" he greets Sunghoon.

"So much, sunshine," Sunghoon ruffles Sunoo's hair, the action so smooth and affectionate it gives you goosebumps. You aspire to be such a talented actress.

"Did noona give you trouble?" Sunoo asks teasingly.

"Not really, she's quite docile now," Sunghoon shrugs, not suspecting anything.

"I'm right here, you know?" you roll your eyes.

"Aww, Y/Nnie, don't be jealous, it's not a good quality," Sunoo messes with you.

Pfft. If there's anyone guilty of jealousy in this room, it's definitely not you.

"As much as I hate to leave you two angels all alone, I have business to attend to," Sunghoon announces. "Take care of her, yeah?"

"Will do!" Sunoo promises excitedly.

Once alone with Sunoo, you set your sinister plan in motion.

"Sunnie, you do realize Sunghoon's only using you, right? He told me so himself. He'll never love you. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself."

"Why would I believe you?" Sunoo snickers. "You'd say anything to get me to untie you."

"Screw that, you know I like things like that," you joke. Though you prefer things like that in a safe, consensual environment, it doesn't hurt to try misleading Sunoo.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sunoo squeezes your cheeks affectionately.

You sigh deeply. Okay, you're gonna have to try harder.

"Haven't you asked yourself why Sunghoon's always wearing gloves? So he can leave no fingerprints! Meanwhile, you're spreading your DNA all over the crime scene."

"This isn't a crime scene, we're just making a home for ourselves!" Sunoo shouts in denial. "And...h-hyung likes gloves, they're a fashion statement. They look hot on him!"

"When the police finds us, Sunghoon won't be here and he'll make you take the fall for it," you hypothesize

"What do you mean when?" Sunoo is starting to panic a little now. "They won't find us. No one knows where we are. Right?"

You smile sinisterly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A while later, Sunoo leaves again and you remain alone with Sunghoon. Your worst nightmare.

"Hi, princess," he kisses you, as if what you two have is completely normal. As if it's okay. You kiss him back, as if you mean it. As if you love him back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, splendid. My favourite place in the world," you chuckle bitterly.

"Ever the spoiled brat, I see. At least I'm giving you food and water, no?"

"Ah, yes, I'm living the dream," you keep responding sarcastically. But nothing too bad, you're still afraid he might snap. Also, you haven't mentioned Heeseung since you got here. You figured it would just be poking the bear or something. So, you play nice. Or as nice as you can be, given the circumstances.

"You know, this could be so much easier if you just cooperated. I could even untie you someday. We could go to Paris, I know how much you've wanted to go there. We could go back to the way we used to be. Just us two."

"What about Sunoo?"

"Well, he can tag along, I don't mind."

"What, like Bonnie and Clyde and their pet or some shit?" Except, you'd be the fucking pet 'cause you're no criminal.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, don't you think?"

It does sound nice. But you'll never agree to this. Even if Sunghoon was the last man on Earth, you still wouldn't go with him anywhere willingly. He lost not only your trust but your heart. And he's never getting it back. But you pretend anyways.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," you lie through your teeth. "Maybe we'll get there one day."

"You can learn to love me again," Sunghoon says it not as a question but as a statement. And with such conviction it almost makes you sad. Almost.

"I can," you repeat the lie as if hypnotized. But he can't. Because this isn't love. It's obsession, dark and twisted, and you would do anything in your power to escape its deadly grasp.

Sunghoon kisses you and you bite his lips angrily in the process. He mistakes it for passion. Good. Let him be the fool. You've been playing that role yourself for too long. It's his turn now.

Hours melt into days. You know that the police requires at least 48 hours to start looking for a missing person so you try to be patient when waiting. But patience has a limit and Sunghoon is getting on your nerves more and more with every second. Sunoo, as well, with him pretending he's the sweetest bean ever but actually the devil in disguise. You just wish you could be found and rescued already. You desperately wish you could be back in the safety of Heeseung's arms. But you know it won't be that easy.

Throughout your stay here, you try your best to ensure you'll make it out alive. Sunghoon or Sunoo only untie to let you take care of your natural needs and don't take any chances so there is no opportunity for you to investigate where exactly you're located, let alone try to escape. But that's besides the point. You have a plan. And you just hope it doesn't go to shit.

"Just let me go, Sunoo, if you don't, you'll regret it, I promise you," you keep pleading with him gently.

"Why would I regret it?" Sunoo traces his blade alongside your neck. Damn, he's addicted to that thing.

"I can't tell you," you smile cruelly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll hurt you," he threatens you vaguely.

"You already did," mentally you mean. "But if you actually use that blade on me, Sunghoon won't be very happy with you. Do you want to make him angry?"

Sunoo shakes and takes a step back, dropping the blade. He's been creeping you out and yet, still...such a sweet child. God, you're conflicted.

On the fifth day, the miracle happens. Storming inside is a whole crew of cops, whom you previously distrusted (okay, lesson learned) and Heeseung comes along with them. You are quickly untied and a medic checks for any injuries (there aren't any physical ones, other than the mental trauma that comes with being kidnapped and stalked by your ex and former best friend).

How were you found so fast, one may ask? Well, you were slightly wary of Sunoo. Heeseung, you never doubted. So, the day before you waited awake for Sunghoon to arrive, you asked Heeseung to help you install a tracking device inside your skin. Your gut feeling was telling you that if something bad were to happen to you, your phone would be destroyed. A small chip, however, would be difficult to notice. The device got slightly damaged in the process of being kidnapped, so it was difficult for the police and Heeseung to catch a signal rightaway. Which is why it took five days. But still, you consider yourself somewhat lucky. Some people remain kidnapped for years...Others are never found.

Regrettably, Sunghoon is nowhere to be located. That bastard. They apprehend Sunoo quickly and he claims that he did it all by himself. Fucking idiot, why is he so loyal to Sunghoon? You insist that he worked together with your ex but the cops say that you might be so traumatized you're hallucinating another person. Why is that, you wonder? Oh, wait. 'Cause there are no fucking fingerprints of Sunghoon's, of course. Those stupid gloves of his may be the smartest thing he's ever done.

You know that you'll have to work harder to make sure Sunghoon is detained as soon as possible. You know that you'll somehow have to convince Sunoo to testify against Sunghoon. You know that your creepy ex won't give you up so easily. You know that you'll have to be smarter, more resilient and perhaps more careful who you trust.

Right now, your mind is your biggest weapon to play this sick game. But it doesn't end here. This is just the beginning.

To be continued...

[wutheringmights]

After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.

[luvhughes43]

all-american b!tch | hughes!sister

guts masterlist🦋 - luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

summary: hughes!sister dealing with the success of her brothers, online hate, and her feelings of having to be strong all the time.

note: little bit of luca fantilli x reader

word count: 1.9k

and i am built like a mother and a total machine

i feel for your every little issue, i know just what you mean

and i make light of the darkness

i've got sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket, best believe

yeah, you know me

y/n hughes is the kindest girl you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting. as the youngest and only daughter of one of the most iconic hockey families, yn grew up in a turbulent world where she had learned to thrive. she plays the family sport, had to navigate through the hardships of being associated with her brothers, and she would be the first to tell you that her experiences had made her a better person. 

“okay trevor listen,” yn hughes or, as referred to by trevor, tiny tot, leaned in closer to the aforementioned boy. “it's quite simple… ghosting the girl will only make her trust you less. i know the podcasts have said that getting close to a girl then ghosting her will make them fall for you but seriously, that's such a bad idea” 

trevor nodded along to each word, pulling out his phone so he could draft a text to “the girl” in question. “okay so like… what should i say then?”

“hmm” yn loomed over the side of trevor's phone as she watched his fingers drift over the keys. once he had finished, he tilted his screen over to her so she could either approve or deny his message. 

there was a brief pause, “i can't tell if you're joking or not,” yn responds, causing jack to giggle as he paused to read the message over both yn and trevors shoulder. 

“I always wondered why you were better at meeting chicks at bars…” jack chuckles, “they never had to read one of your messages”

“its not that bad!” trevor whines loudly as he attempts to grab his phone back from you. 

you hold the phone away from him, swiftly raising your free hand to stop him from moving any closer towards the phone. “don't worry i can fix this,” you speak smoothly to which jack bursts into another round of giggles. 

“bro you cannot tell a girl that you-”

trevor clamped his hand over jacks mouth, effectively stopping him from reciting the awful text to the room full of their friends. “shush, the master is working” 

you rewriting trevors text was just one of the many things you did for the people you considered family. you would sit with luke for hours, letting him rant to you about his move to NJD back when he was still at michigan with you. you would have weekly recaps with your best friends and teammates about their lives, always making sure to help any of them out if needed. 

forgive and i forget

i know my age, and i act like it

got what you can’t resist

i’m a perfect all-american

despite the positives, you got an overwhelming amount of hate for just… existing. you could be the most perfect person, and people who didn't know you would still come after you online. 

you would never admit to anyone that the hate and harassment bothered you but… it always stung. in the beginning, when you first “came into the public's eye” when you started playing on the umichs womens hockey team you couldn’t avoid the hatred. people from school had started using you for your connections to all the boys you knew, and before you had the time to go private on socials (you’re now public again), you would spend hours reading through hate and manually deleting all the messages. 

ynhughes86 posted 1 year ago

liked by luca.fantilli, lhughes_06, edwards.73, and others

ynhughes86 welcome to the den🐺️🗣

tagged: umichwhockey, teammates,, and more

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teammate1 GO BLUE🗣🗣

lhughes_06 #goblue

jackhughes andddd everybody screamed!!

jackhughes number lookin fresh

liked by ynhughes86

_quinnhughes 〽️

trevorzegras tiny tot making moves🫡

ynhughes86 youve gotta let that go..

user03 the power of being a hughes💀💀

removed

user82 did daddy and mommy pay ur way in?

removed

user21 not surprised that shes playing for umich… lets be real no other team would take her. shes a hockey nepo baby fr

removed

user44 ??? have u even looked at her stats and plays? shes definitely good lol

user09 shes nowhere near her brothers levels lets be real

removed

user77 looks like she cares more about partying than she does about hockey... surprising.. not!😒🙄

removed

i am light as a feather, i’m fresh as the air

coca-cola bottles that i only use to curl my hair

i got class and integrity

just like a goddamn Kennedy, i swear

with love to spare

after a few months of going through hate comment deep dives, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let them bother you anymore. In celebration, you made your instagram public again and paid absolutely no attention to any of the hateful people in your comments and dms. 

yhughes86 just posted !

liked by jackhughes, umichwhockey, dylanduke25, and others

ynhughes86 just your average roadie🫡

tagged: teammate5, teammate2, and others

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ynhughes86 special shoutout to trevorzegras for losing our bet! without u i wouldn’t have been able to do what i do🙏 aka spend money at the mall

liked by trevorzegras

teammate5 we should never be let loose in the mall ever again

ynhughes86 we should never be allowed off the bus

lhughes_06 dub after dub

ynhughes86 oh u know it💯

luca.fantilli is this why you were teaching me about girl math? u were trying to justify your purchases?

ynhughes86 … no comment

user32 using trevors money… wow. so she's a gold digger too?

user91 u guys are so lame let a girl live

ynhughes86 just posted !

liked by teammate, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and others

ynhughes86 all the love at the banquet tonight

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teammate1 love uuu my forever girl

ynhughes86 love u more!! u looked so good tonight

luca.fantilli girl in the last pic is kinda cute idk

ynhughes86 kind of? 

luca.fantilli girl in the last pic is very cute im 100% sure of it

ynhughes86 the cute girl in the last pic thinks youre 100% cute too

lhughes_06 the guy in none of the pics thinks you guys are disgusting

user44 no style no game

user81 grow up loser

i’m a perfect all-american bitch

with perfect all-american lips

and perfect all-american hips

i know my place and this is it

ynhughes86 just posted !

liked by luca.fantilli, colecaufield, _quinnhughes, and others

ynhughes86 perfect all-american or whatever olivia rodrigo said

tagged: luca.fantilli

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trevorzegras that's right no swearing for you tiny tot

ynhughes86 😐

user57 “or whatever olivia rodrigo said” yeah she hates women

user91 thats why she's so close to the guys but u didnt hear that from me!

user16 if u guys dont leave this girl alone…

teammate2 OHH BFF LOOKS SO HOT

teammate3 please marry me

luca.fantilli 🤤🤤

liked by ynhughes86

lhughes_06 nope. 

i don't get angry when i’m pissed

i'm the eternal optimist

i scream inside to deal with it

whenever something bothers you, you keep it in. you hold all of your troubles and worries so deep within you that eventually, they float away and come back to haunt you when you least expect it. you thought that if you ignored all of your problems, that they would somehow fix themselves without any intervention from anyone else. 

it wasn’t always helpful. 

all the time

i’m grateful all the time

i’m sexy and i’m kind

i’m pretty when i cry

“they only ask me about my brothers, lu” your sniffles were quieted by the fabric of lucas sweater as you pressed yourself against his chest. you had played possibly the best game of your career, and the post interview questions were all about your brothers and family. questions wondering about their training and practices and how that had impacted you, how their game influenced yours. it made you feel like you were irrelevant in your own career. 

“i am so grateful for my family and how they’ve helped me grow as a player,” you responded politely to the interviewers' inquiries. it's not like you weren’t grateful. you knew that your family had a huge impact on your skills and you were glad that they were there to help you. but nobody ever wondered what your individual experiences were. all your training had to be a direct reflection of your brothers. your playing style, even unrelated, had to do with your brothers. your wins were a direct result of their greatness. nothing you would ever do or succeed in would be solely yours. 

“i love them,” you sob, “i really do! i just want people to see me” 

lucas' arms tightened around you as he started brushing your hair away from your face. “i know, baby” he whispered into your ear, holding you close as he waited for your breathing to calm down. 

“i just wanna be me!” you slumped against lucas front, who carefully pulled you over to your bed so you could sit down on top of him. 

you could hear the loud pop music blaring from the speakers downstairs, and you listened in silence to the people trudging up and down the stairs as they no doubt looked for a bathroom. 

“have you talked to your brothers about this?” lucas' soft voice cuts into the silence. 

you pull away from him slightly so you could look at him in the eyes. “no…” you admitted quietly. “they wouldn’t understand,” you leaned your head against lucas shoulder as you cuddled into him. 

he hummed quietly to you, a hand running down your back to help further soothe you. “i think you might feel better if you open up to them,” luca hedged. both of you knew that your previous statement was a lie. 

“i don't want them to think of me like that…” 

“like what?” luca questioned, his hand never leaving your back as you continued to prop yourself against him. 

you sighed. “i just… they always come to me. i don't want that to stop or for them to think that im weak” your words were quiet as you finally admitted your true feelings to your boyfriend. 

“they could never think you're weak,” luca murmurs reassuringly. “luke talks all the time about how he thinks you're adjusting to life here better than he did,” you look up at luca inquisitively. “and quinn, he is so proud of you! he talks so highly of you all the time… and jack, i mean come on. they all love and support you so much. they won’t stop asking for advice or talking to you because you're having some troubles” luca explains. “also, there’s nothing wrong with being weak. you should let yourself be open with your brothers just like they are with you. you deserve that”

“have i ever told you that i love you?” you tearfully smile at the boy who was always so good at listening to you.

luca smiles back, “not enough” he jokes as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

you brush a few strands of hair out of his face. “i'll call them tomorrow,” you add, reciprocating luca's kiss on the cheek. 

luca smiles, happy that you're no longer worked up and that you’ll finally tell your brothers your struggles. 

you spend the rest of the night hidden away from the raging party downstairs, wrapped up in your boyfriend's arms as you think about everything you try to hide. you didn’t have to be just one thing. you were allowed to be kind and to have complex emotions. you could be upset and angry without being a mean girl. perfect never existed, and you were glad that you were finally open to letting others see the cracks in your walls. 

lucas’ hair was soft as you ran your hands through his locks. “i love you,” luca mumbles. 

“i love you” you whisper to your boyfriend, placing a kiss on his shoulder as he shifts to lay his head on the middle of your chest. 

you easily fall asleep comforted by the fact that you were allowed to be flawed, and that no matter what, you’ll always have your people by your side.

[rwrbficrecs]

We’ll Invite Something In by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a fandom favorite and for good reason. In this canon divergence AU, Alex is President, Henry is out, and they never got together in their 20s. Instead, they encounter each other in their late 30s and a very different type of relationship ensues. They still hide it at first, but there’s a lot of living that they both have done and need to work through. I really enjoyed the character dynamics here and how the premise changed both Alex and Henry, making them bolder and more mature. Definitely read this one!

Eyes Blue, Like the Atlantic by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: A Titanic AU! Adapted by an excellent writer, this one has suspense, action, romance, and intrigue. There is a MCD (Main Character Death) in here and some other tags to be aware of, but also vibrant scenes with dancing, chasing, art, and formal wear. I really enjoyed it!

Clean Slate by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: This was just so excellent. I devoured it in no time, couldn't put it down. I love the way Alex just slips into Henry's life like a silk glove even though Henry has his hesitations. There's abslutely no angst at all other than "you're too young for me" "no, next question" I love it. I love Henry finally feeling young for the first time. I think that is something that Henry generally feels after meeting Alex, like he's never been able to, no matter at what point in life he is. ANYWAY I'm talking about Henry way too much again for a rec. Read this.

Most People Exist by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry, 30, is a nurse on a cancer ward. From the very first moment he feels an intense connection and attraction to his newest patient, the one who has a brain tumor and is named Alexander Claremont-Diaz. - The tags say it all: "Falling in love, Slow Burn, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort". After reading this story I am a whole new person. I laughed and cried, had butterflies in my stomach, I felt it all. Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read!

after hours by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@na-dineee: How much can happen in a few hours? stutteringpeach: Hold my beer. 😅🤝 Reading this was truly a roller coaster ride, my stomach was doing somersaults non-stop: On his last evening in New York, poet Henry meets bartender Alex and the two spend the night together - in true "Before Sunrise" style. To sum it all up: enchanting, sweet, phenomenal, iconic!

No. 1 (Royal Red and Blue) Oil on Canvas by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic is so twisted and surprising in the best way! The summary did not prepare me for all the action that comes after the initial relationship drama and I'd really like to fawn over it some more but I don't want to spoil the fun of figuring out what really is going on and what are characters' motivations. Just give it a try.

Meet the Parents (series) by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@dot524: I really enjoyed these thoughtful character studies of Ellen and Oscar. The two short stories are a series of canon vignettes from Oscar and Ellen’s POV. These glimpses of the Claremont-Diaz parents add heart and depth to the RWRB canon, giving insight about how Ellen and Oscar think about parenthood, power, family, and each other.

Leave The World Better Than You Found It: A BONES AU by @treluna4 (book/movie-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: I really enjoyed this FirstPrince meets procedural TV show fic! With Alex as Booth and Henry as Brennan, they learn to work together, solve crimes--and fall in love, of course. Plus take down a very satisfying book villain.

No Laughing Matter by @inexplicablymine (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely hysterical- a must read if you need something to cheer you up! It's also very relatable for anyone who, like me, has said things they've regretted in all the best ways!

in summer air by @acdsbff (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I need a vacation and vitamin D - maybe that's why this series (both POVs are covered 🥰) captivated me so much?! It is set on a Greek island, where Alex, just cheated on by his boyfriend, meets hotel owner Henry. What follows is a whirlwind speedrun romance against a beautiful backdrop. Really therapeutic for the heart on dreary days!!

here is a map (with your name as a capital) by @alasse9 (book-verse)

@dot524: What an incredible surprise to have this entire 50k story drop at once. In this canon divergent story, Alex and Henry start getting to know each other in Rio, when Alex helps him recover from a panic attack. Their friendship, and later their relationship, is a delightful slow burn with funny moments, heartbreak, and steady support of each other. I thoroughly enjoyed this start to finish — the characterization of both Alex and Henry is on point and I really enjoyed how the writer changed some of the scenes from the book while keeping key callbacks. A delight.

Claremont 2008 by @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This friends to lovers AU is done so well! Having Henry and Alex meet as kids means we get years of their friendship before they even start dating, and it gives every aspect of their relationship so much depth through this entire fic. It also gives some events only referenced in the novel a completely different perspective, which makes them even better!

keep me in the moment (don't it feel so real?) by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: I absolutely love everything that comes out of Sarah's magic little fingers and this was no exception. Alex and Henry are best friends and pinning over eache other unknowingly and an accidental lil discovery turns their relationship upside-down (for the better) absolutely recommended. I honestly loved it so much.

you know i can't be found with you by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: This was SO much fun. Alex was RELENTLESS and I absolutely love an older Henry. It was also very fucking funny. 10/10

the great duck fiasco by @alexclaremont-diaz (book-verse)

@suseagull04: A spy AU, dating apps, and Alex's Texas roots combine in the funniest way possible- definitely read this if you want a good laugh!

[luvrsux]

“Bubble Bath”

word count: 3k

summary: luffy has been cracking attention while you’re preoccupied with work. after you promise you’ll spend time with him, he evades your bath time for quality time

cw: nsfw!! bath sex, creampie, clinginess, riding

a/n: i don’t plan on making much luffy x readers because i have a strong headcanon that he’s aroace, sorry :(( </3

“I see an island up ahead!”

The long nosed, afro haired boy said from up top with binoculars cupping his eyes. Everyone relaxing on the infamous Thousand Sunny began to abruptly scurry to the front deck to view the piece of land gradually increasing size.

“Alright! We’ll stock up on supplies. I’m not sure how long the log pose will shift, hopefully nothing long”

The orange haired navigator instructed, who received a bundle of loving compliments by the chef. Everyone went back to their own business, excluding the you and the captain.

The captain just stayed on top of Sunny enjoying the breeze of the sea, like he usually does. Hearing there was an island up ahead, as well as seeing it first hand, had his nerves rocket in the air of excitement. The sound of his sandals making contact with the ships mascot could be heard as he stood up straight. He spun his head left and right, like he was on the search for something. He groaned upon seeing nothing he was looking for.

“What’s up now, Luffy?” Usopp says, hopping down from the lookout up top. He placed his hands on his hips as he saw Luffy sluggishly and dramatically plopped on the floor.

“Where’s (F/N)?” He extended his words like a child, which was nothing new. Usopp exhaled, growing tired of his constant childish behavior over you.

Meanwhile, you were scribbling into a book about a previous island you docked at. You became the Strawhats Journalist not long ago, so you’d document each and every important thing that you discovered on each island. The previous island you had stayed at lasted a long while and was filled with things you’ve never seen before. That was the pure magic of being a pirate in the Grand Line. No one disturbed you, except Sanji who’d occasionally give you a loving drink or snack.

You’d been in a rather intimate relationship with the Strawhats Captain for a little while now, and people were growing tired of Luffy’s clinginess. He’d often wrap his rubber arms around your body and spew out that iconic giggle into your ear. You appreciated his love for you, but it’d sometimes get in the way of your work as a journalist.

“(F/N), your boyfriend won’t shut up about you” Usopp bursted through the door. The snap of it made your body flinch, causing a minor hiccup in your work. You grumbled at the messed up ink in your sketch.

“Yeah, got it” You huffed, not really worrying about Luffy’s attachment and more about your work. If you hadn’t poured this down on this paper, you were bound to forget.

“We’re also about to dock at an island in about an hour or so” Usopp continued. You placed your pen down and finally looked at him.

“Already? I’m not even done journaling about the previous island” You sighed, knowing all your time was consumed by giving your dumbfounded boyfriend attention.

“I’d blame Luffy” You sighed in defeat at Usopp’s correct words. You hated every moment of doing it, but you rushed to write and sketch the last few pieces of data before you went adventuring on the newfound island.

“(F/NNNNNNN)! C’mon!” Luffy wrapped his gum-gum arms around your own while you were ready to leave the ship. You tried breaking free of his locked-on grasp but no avail.

“Luffy, I need to buy some things and write some things down. I’m kind of behind” You lecture. Luffy just responded with a dramatically sad expression. Those puppy-dog eyes were always your ultimate weakness. You placed your soft lips on his forehead with a smile.

“I promise, when I’m done we can spend all the time you want” You cooed. Luffy practically had sparkles in his eyes when he detached his uncanny arms off of you. He jumped high in the air in excitement.

“Ya-hoo! I’ll see ya back on the ship!” He planted an eager kiss on your cheek before springing off the ship and collapsing onto a green haired swordsman. You heard Zoro grunt and shake a fist at the laughing rubber boy, which made you giggle.

You strolled alongside the ship’s archaeologists, Nico Robin, since you both shared similar ambitions. You made sure to go to the towns small shopping center where you could buy more ink and blank books. After your small shopping spree, which was vastly different from Nami’s, you sat on a cliff secluded by trees to finish your journaling.

The view wasn’t far from where the Sunny was docked, so you’d be able to see your fellow crew members approach the ship for regrouping. Your stomach laid on the rather soft, prickly grass and you fluently grazed the tip of your pen along the cream colored paper. The temperature of the island was more on the hotter side, and you were slowly regretting on wearing a longer sleeved shirt. The breeze helped the heat, though. You’d feel the air graze through your hair and scalp every few moments.

After about an hour or so, you finally wrote down everything you wanted to for the day. To your luck, a whiff of fresh barbecue filled your lungs. You immediately knew who’d be burning up on a grill at this hour and poked your head to the window of the cliff. You saw the blonde frying up skewers and other selections of meat right by the sunny.

Luffy was dancing around with the tiny reindeer doctor, and you couldn’t help but smile at his cuteness. Robin and Nami sat beautifully under an umbrella sharing a glass. Zoro was laying under a palm tree, snoring away into his deep slumber. Brook was filling your ears of elegant music like he’d usually do. Franky and Usopp were absent, which could mean they were doing their workshop duties right in the sunny beside the group.

You finally got up from your ground seat and stretched your tensed body. You felt lingering feeling on your knees and chest. Upon looking down, you were completely covered in grass and minor spots of dirt. You groaned, but this was entirely expected.

“I have to wash up before I eat”

You trotted your feet down the hill to make your way back to the sunny. You internally thanked yourself for not having Zoro’s awful sense of direction since the hill was a bit far from the group. While walking, you tried flicking off lingering strands of grass and flower petals, now only left in small patches of dirt around your clothes and body. The group immediately greeted you as soon as your feet landed on the sand they relaxed on.

“(F/N), my dear! Would you like your plate now?” Sanji said with practical hearts in his eyes. You immediately shook your head no.

“Not right now, Sanji. I need to wash up” You smiled. You could hear him sheepishly agree behind you, like the lover boy he was. As soon as you were ready to enter the Sunny, a scruffy, now shirtless, boy slid right in front of you in your tracks.

“Hey! You said we’d spend some time” He crossed his arms with a playful angry expression plastered on his face.

“We will, Luffy. But I’m covered in dirt, I need a bath, honey” You nervously giggled. He let out a loud groan that alerted the entire group. It only made you giggle. With a chaste kiss on his sad lips, you finally made your way back onto the ship.

Nothing but relief flooded your body as soon as you entered the bath house. You began flooding the massive bathtub with steaming water and poured in a tad of soap for fragrance. You saw the bubbles beginning to form above the surface of the warm water while you stripped your body naked.

You exhaled upon sinking your feet in first before slowly lowering your entire body into the body of warm, relaxing water. You rested your back against the wall of bath and shut your eyes. Your sense of tranquility was taking over your body by the sudden relaxation of the single bath tub. Your moment of relaxation was disturbed by sudden footsteps coming towards the bathhouses door.

“Hm?”

You hummed. The person didn’t have the curtsy to knock, but then again that was completely normal for the man himself. You shrieked, immediately placing a hand on your expose chest to censor it. Your body relaxed when you realized it was none other than your clingy boyfriend wanting attention.

“Luffy! I’m bathing right now” You scolded. He didn’t hesitate to throw off his shorts and jump into the water next to you, making a bit of a mess on the ground.

“I’m ya boyfriend right? I can do this” He smiled brightly, swimming his body up to yours. Your face was complete red from seeing his nude body for the first time. You then realized you were dating a boy with zero shame.

“Okay? But I’m in the middle of washing myself. I told you we can spend time when I’m finished” You scolded, jerking your body the opposite way. Luffy pouted and leaned his body closer to yours. His naked body so close to you made your face blush.

“That’s too long!”

His face was dangerously close to yours and he seemed completely oblivious to it. You still had your arm cover your exposed chest and your legs tightly closed together. He had a beaming smile.

“I really missed ya” He placed his hands on your hips to slide you onto his lap. You could feel his length graze against your slit and you hitched your breath. You grazed your hand on the pale, smooth skin that marked an ‘X’ on his toned chest.

“Luffy, I’m bathing though-“

“So? I can help”

He giggled, lathering the upper half of your body with the lingering soap. He started at your arms and back. You felt goosebumps from along your body by his touch on your bare body. Your arms didn’t disconnect from your chest. There was no point in objecting or pushing him away since Luffy was the most stubborn person you’ve ever met. You exhaled and let Luffy explore his needy hands around your bare body. You appreciated the kind efforts, though.

Luffy trailed his hands to your locked arms and trailed his midnight eyes up at your flustered expression. He had half lidded eyes that spoke to you. He wanted you to remove what’s covering what he wanted to touch.

“C’monnn… I need to finish” He tugged on your arms. You hesitated, but you eventually separated your arms to reveal your bare breasts. Luffy’s cheeks flared up and you could feel his member harden below you. You whimpered at the slight feeling of it.

He lathered the soap over your chest, but more slower than he did compared to the rest of your body. You let out a soft whimper that only he could hear. The sound only driven him more. He cupped both of them into his hands to throughly massage them. His movement made more simple, soft noises to come out your lips. Luffy didn’t stop. He had no intentions in helping you clean yourself anymore from the sudden distraction of your breasts.

You slithered a hand through his shaggy black hair. The feeling caused a rumble out of his chest. You gave it a slight tug, which was a single trigger for Luffy to trail his lips on your neck. He left marks upon marks on it, a new way to publicly display your relationship like he always does.

“L-Luffy…~”

You mewl out his name. At this point, his member was rock hard and eager to feel your walls wrap around him tightly for the first time. He growled, sexually frustrated by the immense teasing.

“I need ya, (F/N)…” His needy voice sent shivers down your spine. Those words made your arms wrap around his neck to elevate your body.

“You’re so needy, Luffy…”

You sunk a hand into the water to guide his member to your submerged entrance, that was still hot and ready for him. He shivered at your sudden touch and began quicken his breathing upon feeling your sleek entrance.

As soon as you felt the tip in your cave, you slowly sunk your body to succumb each inch inside of you. You heard Luffy hiss at the feeling of your walls wrap around his member. Arms wrapped around your waist once you took him whole. You were both heavily breathing.

“Ya feel sooooo good, baby” Luffy said with a devilish smile and those same half lidded eyes. You whimper, not expecting the long length but you remember he can stretch anything and everything on his rubber body.

He gripped your lower bottom and guided your body up and down on his shaft, receiving a pleasured exhale from the guy himself. You followed his rhythm at a decent speed before he stopped moving his hands for you. You bounced on his lap, his tip softly kissing your cervix.

The water in the tub began to create small waves of your momentum. Some began to slowly splash out of the tub itself, but two could care less. Your lungs began to fill in with the steam from the bath with every heavy inhale and exhale. You rested your forehead against your lovers, staring deep within his eyes while you lovingly made him feel good. His eyes were droopy and washed with lust.

Your pace was still slow. Luffy groaned and gripped your thighs tenderly. He cocked his head to the side to connect his lips on yours. The passionate, yet sloppy, kiss made your pace quicken and grow rougher. You heard Luffy release a shaky groan.

“Jus’ like that…” He breathed between your lips. You hummed at his words, understanding each word.

You kept a slow pace, nothing crazy for your first sexual experience with Luffy. You figured he was a simple guy that preferred simple pleasure, but his sexually frustrated demeanor said otherwise. He looked eager or antsy as his hands gripped and tugged on the fate of your thighs. You heard his chest rumble.

You felt Luffy buck his hips into you with force, sending a shockwave in your body when you felt his member crash against your cervix instead of the light kisses. You threw your head back and let out a hearty moan. Your reaction made Luffy only do the same movement more, hitting your sensitive spot with ease.

“Nnggaah~!!”

You bounced your body to reciprocate his force and increased your speed dramatically. Luffy’s eyes were hypnotized by the jumping motion of your breasts. He was stuck in a gaze, his brain completely going blank by your body. All he could do was recklessly groan and inconsistently breathe.

“Damn..~ I th- mmmph~ I think m’gonna cum soon” He breathed out. Your thrown back head pulled forward to rest in the crook of his neck. Your teeth sunk into the skin of his neck, muffling your moans. Luffy gritted his teeth in frustration.

Not even a few seconds in your new position, you felt a hand yank you by your damp hair and saw eyes staring deep into your soul.

“No, I wanna hear ya loud and clear”

He began to take control of your movement, forcefully and recklessly slamming inside of you. His change in force made the room full of your messy moans. You’d think the water would dull down his energy but the way he was forcefully plunging into you said otherwise. Luffy let go of your hair and had his hands completely occupied with slamming your body down onto him. A menacing smile grew on his face while he chuckled through his thirsty moans.

“L-Luffy~! M’gonna-!”

“Do it. C’mon, do it, yeah?”

Luffy growled before sloppily placing his lips against yours, ramming into you so you can feel the rush of your climax to its fullest potential. You dug your nails into his broad shoulders, sending chills down his body.

You grazed your nails down from his lower back to his upper back forcefully once you felt your juiced spew outside of you and mix with the water. Your lungs shrunk from your powerful moan, you’d thought you would lose your voice after.

“Oh, fuck~!!”

Luffy mercilessly pounded your insides in as you rode your high. He still had that same devious smile on his face while he witness your hard orgasm, done completely by him. He chuckled and cocked his head back. He let out a shaken whimper when he felt his fluids build up to pour out inside of you.

“I fuckin’ love ya, (F/N)~ Ooooh, I fuckin’ love ya” He pulled his head back and spoke right into your ear. Your body began to feel overstimulated by Luffy’s vast endurance. He giggled deviously at the drool spewing out the corner of your lips. Your brain was going just as blank as him from before.

“M’gonna cum! M’gonna fuckin’ cum!” Luffy growled.

With a few more pumps, Luffy dumped each and every last drop he had inside of him to soak your walls. That last slam birthed a loud groan from his chest and a powerful shriek from your mouth. Your volume was enough for the other Strawhats to faintly hear you, especially Franky and Usopp who were minding their business in the boat itself.

Luffy laughed like he usually does after he finished his own orgasm. He met his eyes with yours, now his energy completely drained. Suddenly, Luffy’s body grew completely limp and sluggish, as if his energy was completely sucked out of him.

“I forgot, water makes me feel funny…” He grumbled. The mixture of the fruits side effects and his orgasm only made him more exhausted than ever. You giggled.

Luffy hissed when you pulled your body off of his shaft, his fluids slowly swarming in the bath water. The water was far from clean now.

You lifted your body up, washing your sticky and soiled thighs with the water. You pulled, and struggled to, your limp boyfriend’s body out of the water before you threw a towel on his rubber body.

“C’mon, dry up. You wanna cuddle, don’t you?” You wrapped a fuzzy towel around your drenched body. You combed through your wet hair as you watched Luffy suddenly spring up with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah! I missed ya so much!” He wrapped the towel around his torso. You felt his lips smash against your cheek before he bounced out of the steaming bath house.

You giggled at his excitement. He was truly very two faced when it came to anything sexual. Your legs were twitching and shaking, slightly struggling to keep your complete balance. You found it hard to believe Luffy was the one to leave you in this state, even though you had just finished your session.

You drained the sin filled water down the drain to forever conceal the devious acts that occurred in that tub for the sake of everyone else’s sanity. You walked out of the bathhouse, preparing to spend the rest of the next several hours under Luffy’s tight embrace.

all licensing and ownership belong to eiichiro oda

[vermutandherring]

I've always felt that there was something missing from the romance in The Sims 4, though I can't quite put my finger on what. The depth of the relationship? Passion? Variety of interactions? Now, 10 years later, when our characters have learned how to raise children and organize weddings, we can finally teach them the art of love. At least that's what you'd expect from a Lovestruck.

Meet Julianne - together with her we will discover a never-before-seen world of romance, the journey to which starts from the phone (let's ignore the fact that I chose to play in my historical save file). Game doesn't give us a separate option to create an account on the dating app. As with Social Bunny, it works by default. From the first minutes of playing for another household, several sims called my character: some claimed that they got this number from friends, others that they were impressed by the profile in Cupid's Corner (which I did not create) and wanted to get to know each other. Arguably, your large social circle and popularity will attract more potential love interests. Or it's just my imagination and your acquaintances will have no effect on the appearance of calls with offers to get to know each other.

You can take your own profile photo, but without corresponding skill it will take some time. Actually, I love how cute it looks.

However, the best way to succeed in anything is to take matters into your own hands. The game offers us 6 candidates every 12 hours, which you can immediately add to your contacts and go on a date. These are both homeless NPCs and sims you create. I did not check whether it is possible to meet profiles of characters with romantic relationships, but all the households I came across were single, which is obviously the main condition for Cupid's Corner.

I also can't tell if the game selects profiles according to a certain principle. Only 1-2 sims had the same traits as Julianne. The rest were matched by age and gender. All this gives the impression that the application for dating is made somewhat lazily. There is very little information about the characters - only 2 traits, age and living place. And this despite the fact that in CAS we can choose an incredible number of hobbies and traits that can attract our sims.

It was funny to see profiles of the sims' I made before. You can say Wesker is always in my saves ✨

Perhaps there is logic in this, if we take into account that sims themselves have to learn more about each other during dates. So, having chosen 3 candidates, I send Julianne on the first date. Here you have to be careful and send your sims exactly on a date from the EP. Now, in addition to the huge and chaotic menu of communication, you will have another type of dating, which does not overwrite the basic one, but exists separately (which, in my opinion, does not make any sense, since they are identical in essence). After looking through the buy catalog beforehand, I purchased a picnic tablecloth and a board game, hoping to try out some new interactions.

Oh, this iconic arrival on the lot where sims stand around, waving their fingers until they want to drink water or to do the push-ups. I don't think that you are obliged to gift something on the first date. However, here we are talking about a game with a somewhat hyperbolic reality. It would be very nice if your partner greeted you with flowers, candy or a funny gift. But… no. Do you remember the phrase about taking matters into your own hands?

Dating in Lovestruck is no different from basic dating, except that it is now organized as an event, for which you will receive a reward. To finish it successfully, you need to complete as many tasks as possible: talk, flirt, and do activities that you have previously chosen. Like always, everything on the date depends only on you. This is the first and not the last time when I want to remember previous Sims games. Unlike the fourth part, in Sims 2 you can't spend the perfect date relying only on your whims. You should pay attention to your partner's wishes by asking what they want or checking their wishes on the date panel. This way, you make sure that both characters have a good time interacting with each other. In the Sims 4, those moments when your love interest takes the initiative are rather annoying, because their actions may not count towards the dating success scale, wasting your time.

Let's return to Julianne. A bit of grilled cheese, light conversation and a board game were a good start to getting to know each other. The picnic tablecloth is officially my absolute favorite part of the DLC. You can do relatively many things together, and it looks a lot better than sitting in different corners of the room with plates in hand. For me personally, this is exactly what I was missing - to watch how sims adequately communicate with each other, without getting up from their seats to play on the computer. This date ended with gold, for which Julianne received a sweet photo with Vittorio.

Without wasting time, Julianne goes on a second date. It was a bit more boring as I sent sims to a bar to explore the new town. Ciudad Enamorada is a new world, which represents the countries of the Iberian basin and Latin America. It is difficult for me to clearly state my opinion about the city. On the one hand, it is very reminiscent of San Myshuno, but feels more empty and sham like in the case of Tomarang. I suspect that EA have been planning for a long time to move to more modern versions of DirectX and started making bigger worlds full of large, carefully decorated areas to create an open world feel. In the already mentioned Tomarang, you can view the whole neighborhood, while being on the same lot.

But this attempt to deceive the player does not save the situation. The streets look empty due to too little traffic of cars and characters. 10 characters in the cozy Willow Creek neighborhood add life to the town, while the same number of characters in the huge Ciudad Enamorada give the impression of a ghost city.

There's not a lot you can do in these areas, and it turns this beautiful city into another one empty box.

Although there are also pleasant moments. For example, in parks you can meet characters spending time together. Just don't look at them for too long, otherwise you will notice that they sit on the benches for whole days, poking their fingers at the clouds and at the starry sky.

Now your sims can stargaze on the benches and this animation is really sweet. I'd wish it were just a bit more diverse, maybe with kissing interaction (my man deff doesn't understand hints).

Julianne's date with Hosea went well. It was the usual conversations about interests and jokes over a glass of root beer and a little flirting. Since this is the first meeting, Julianne did not insist on extremely frank details, stopping at superficial facts about herself, because now you can not only ask your beloved ones about their likes, but also share your own. The developers tried to deepen the relationship by adding more psychological moments. It would seem that the preferences of sims should be based on this, which would influence their choice of a partner. But to be honest, I couldn't feel it. The information you learn about the characters constantly bombards you with an endless number of messages, reading which is very tiring. Even after reaching the maximum relationship, my sims never developed any specific preferences and could not tell each other anything new (or maybe I create too boring sims).

The second date quickly tired me out, as it was not much different from the first. I managed to finish it for silver, after which Julianne had a little rest. As a reward, she received a teddy bear. I expected that partners after successful dates would quickly want to see each other again. But the rare times they did call, they were asking for advice on relationships with other sims. This is another gap that the devs didn't try to fix or simply ignored its existence - the game does not take into account your current relationship and romantic level with other characters. I think this is an interesting option if you are playing for a polyamorous relationship. But for Julianne, I set the goal to find a partner and chose the exact settings for her in CAS, which the game ignored. Frustrated by this, I sent her on a third date.

It was awful. Julianne couldn't find approach to Omari, and each of their lines turned the date into a complete mess. Neither jokes nor attempts to find a common language helped. It ended up with bronze and little flower as a reward for wasted time. You can also end the date early, or ask to extend it if you don't have time to collect the reward (the additional time decreases with each attempt). Maybe things would have turned out better if Julianne had practiced her romance skill. This is another controversial point for me, with which I cannot decide.

Of course, we must learn to find an approach to each other, train patience, be able to accept our partners and talk about our problems and complaints to each other in order to solve them. But in Lovestruck, romance skill is geared towards unlocking additional interactions, such as kissing or sharing candy box. Do I really have to go on multiple dates and get into relationships with different partners to finally learn how to present sweets? I understand that this was done mostly in order to make the gameplay a little more difficult and exciting, to add some time before you get completely bored.

After all, this skill exists because there must be new skill in Expansion Pack. It's very reminiscent of a similar parenting skill in Parenthood, but some things look absurd. Skills from WW has more sense, but for obvious reason devs can't put something that spicy into the game. Eventually, I got tired of developing a talent for romancing other sims and had to use a cheat code.

Julianne ended up with Hosea. Not because he called after a date or wanted to see her. But because I accidentally bumped into him while was hanging around in the park doing quest (this is really tiny quest you can find in the park and finish it within 10 minutes, 5 of which is loading screens). As we know, nothing makes you closer and helps to grow connection like fishing. But this I would do without paying 40$ (or 999 UAH, for God's sake).

I got tired of Julianne's love story. I tried pushing their progression with Hosea to see what else the game can propose. Not that much. So I switched on other married couple.

I adore new furniture. It embody well the atmosphere of romance and erotic mood, which can be supplemented with wallpaper with interesting animal patterns (I missed zebra and leopard prints since Sims 2). It looks like something you expect to meet in the 'certain places for adults' and I like that devs went a bit further than just a bunch of cute stuff. The only thing that does not go well with the 'strip-clubs-velvet style' is art deco. Why don't make more club/bar furniture with booth seats, puffs and huge mirrors in soft cloth is beyond me. But now, if you want full art deco collection, you should get Hight School Years and Lovestruck altogether. I find it quite funny, not sure either in bad or good context.

As I already mentioned, picnic tablecloth is my absolute favorite from the whole EP. It also has the bear rug variation, which fits just perfect for your romantic evenings by the fireplace. I'm sure Victor and Lily will agree with this.

Same interactions are available for both the rug and the cloth because these are literally the same object.

But what if I tell you that it already was in The Sims, 20 years ago?

Gif made from this video. All credits to the original creator.

I don't like to think about it as an "easter egg". Almost every DLC for The Sims 4 is repeating of the same content and functions from the previous games, but with less functionality. And EA charges extra money for it over and over again. Now let's just wait till they figure out how to implement the biggest easter egg of The Sims series ever - cars.

You can make your sims sitting with drinks like in The Sims 1, but of course it has different vibe.

Time to talk about the "hottest" part of this add-on - the seductive dance. To do this, you will have to develop a little not only relationships, but also romantic skill. Dressing up in erotic outfits is optional and not a requirement. That's where all the fun ends. Your partner will begin to move to the rhythm of the dance, which lasts several minutes and during which nothing happens but monotonous movements. Again, this can be described with the words "cute" and "funny", which fits perfectly with the whole family friendly concept of the game. To be honest, I am not categorically against this, because the step towards real erotic and sexuality makes The Sims 4 hover over the abyss of what is appropriate for its age limit.

This review is already too long, but I would like to add a little more about the interactions. I counted a dozen new romantic interactions with animations. For some of them, you will have to increase your romantic skills. Other parts (such as questions or flirting) use the same animations as in the base game. The menu of relationships has become even more chaotic, the description of preferences is even more complicated and unclear. If you want to make the gameplay more varied, you will have to spend a lot of time reading the explanations and noting these details in your head. And even then, I'm not sure if it will make your game more diverse.

As It's been told many times before, Lovestruck EP makes the romance too complicated. Obviously, the developers tried to add depth to the relationship that was so lacking, but in the end they went in wrong direction. Maybe I should play more to understand new features better. But I just don't have the desire for it. The gameplay became so full of text that I started to turn a blind eye to it. I have no doubt that the new features will give someone more variation to play and build their stories. But for me this DLC doesn't cost neither full nor discount price at all.

I love suits and Lily in butler's uniform wins my heart 🖤 Pose is CC.

There are also some features I didn't mention (like therapy for couples which broke my relationship) so there's a bit more to discover. You are free to argue with me of course. Sometimes I think I'm too biased about the game.

[missmarveledsblog]

Not so solo after all ( fanboy x fan girl ( reader) )

summary : when our fanboy thinks he spending halloween without his girl she surprises him in more ways then one

warnings : it a day late soz but here is a halloween themed fic sort of goes with the fan girl fic i wrote but can be read alone , smutty but not smtty 18+

Fan girl

Halloween was a night of no judgment all nerd could dress as whatever they want and no one bats a lid only this was even better she was surprising her boyfriend given the two thought she was coming days later .  the flights overbook and misbooking of her own tickets til she was able to get last minute she spent the three hour flight perfecting her hair and makeup . she  had costume or costumes since she had a special one underneath , she was excited more excited than she’d been in a good long while . it was like a nerd like fairytale meeting mickey garcia , the fact the two had such similar  mindsets, both  so emersed in the nerd culture it was refreshing plus also exciting in more ways than one .  now she was sitting  in the car as nat was talking her ear off , a promise to do the female aviators makeup  before they headed to the hard deck .  she put her bags in as two enjoyed the emptiness of the house pulling the make up out  getting to work making nat the sexiest and scariest black cat ironic to bob saying he was going to be golden retriever suiting both personalities to a tea . 

“ so does fanboy know your dressing as his literal dream come through ?” the brunette smirked. 

“ nope he doesn’t even know i’m in san diego  , plus i send him like a million other costumes so” she giggled . 

“ but you know he’s gonna be han solo , i love it i can’t wait for him to short circuit it’s gonna be amazing” she rubbed her gloved hands together. 

“ i mean it’s skimpy leia costume but the real one is underneath”

“You didn’t … the bikini thing even hangman knows that one “ nat snorted . 

“ hey i mean it’s an iconic moment “ she shrugged . 

“ you might actually kill the poor guy you do know that?” 

“ i’m hoping he kills me or leaves me legless either is good  “ she winked . 

“ too much information but also get it “ nat smirked texting the guys she would be there soon just bringing a friend only for her phone to blow up from jake and rooster asking if she’s hot and a dibs wars soon spammed in the groupchat .  “ i didn’t even say if it was a girl or not “ she shook her head looking down at the phone . 

“ well pretty kitty lets blow them away shall we” y/n beamed . 

He tried honestly he did , it was hard not to be a downer when the one person who could fully appreciate the effort and accuracy of the costume wasn’t there or mainly he was just missing his girl and hadn’t  heard anything from in hours .  bob did tell him she helped with haunted house back when she was home so he understood she would be busy giving kids and teens the joys of the halloween spirit  but then again should he be listening to a man who looked like a golden retriever hybrid . 

“ hey come on lets have a good night “ rooster who was by far laziest of costume telling people he was tom selleck in magnum pi although it was his normal clothes. 

“ he’s all pouty missing his girl “ payback rolled his eyes dressed as blade   patted fanboy back rolling his eyes . 

“ i would too if my girl was hot as his .. what it’s truth “ hangman rolled his eyes dressed as cowboy ken doll  ascot and cowboy hat  suited him perfectly. 

“ we just need to distract him is all “ javy shrugged dressed as tarzan if tarzan was GQ model that was .  the boys tried their best cheering him up all banter and fun as he started to loosen up a little although he did check his phone and embarrassing amount of times or ignored rooster and hangman's dibs on phoenix mystery friend not that he cared much for it til the cheers and whistles erupted when the door or the hard deck opened  he didn’t bother looking up not once he was smiling at the screensaver selfie of them chilling and cozy wrapped up together. 

“ holy shit fanboy your gonna lose your little mind “ was all he heard jake saying as he looked up going to look at the man quick glance at the approaching figure before looking back and his jaw hitting that ground so fast he was sure it would fall off .  looking up he had to of die and went to a galaxy far far away when he took in the sight of the woman he fell hard and fast for .  he knew who she was a mile away although hers was more form fitting and short but she was the leia to his han solo . a quick and barely there hello  as he ran past nat on to grab his girl in his arms lifting her up  in his arms as she giggled . 

“ how .. what .. wow “ he beamed placing her down taking her in the white gown and her hair all scream both leia and sex appeal all in one . the white gown hitting tops of her thighs  and although it was still turtle neck ( hiding the collar ) , the chest of had a cut out section  show casing her cleavage and still concealing everything at same time ,  the belt was attaching to a corset , she made sure it was fitted to show enough and not ruin the surprise underneath . 

“ my mom’s friend gave me her ticket  since she wasn’t able to fly so i thought i would surprise you “ she  laughed as he kissed every part of her face. 

“Well darling ain’t you looking good to beam me up and take me away in the tardis “ jake winked as she looked personally offended  so did fanboy . 

“ the tardis is doctor who “ 

“ beam me up is star trek “ 

“ same thing right ?” he asked . 

“ even i know it’s not “ rooster snorted . 

“ let me get you a drink  princess “ fanboy turned his cheek hurting from the smiling taking her hand leading her to the bar to see both mav and penny behind the bar dress as sunny and cher . 

 The night actually truly starting  , he still couldn’t get over how lucky he was or the way he stood taller when he noticed people giving him a thumbs up when they saw her on his arm .  the fact she was dress as the first woman he’s ever had one an awakening to or been his major celebrity crush since he was little boy only made it hundred times better.  He couldn’t keep his hands off of her whether the touches were innocent or not so innocent .  Kisses turning more sloppy , more heated   signaling it was definitely time to leave .  a quick goodbye to her brother and there friends the two headed out into the night air  the whole time hands and lips not separated to lost in each other . 

The journey home was pretty much the same only the touches on her skin teasingly as he talk to the uber driver  purpose torturing his girl knowing it was driving her crazy , hand on  her thigh gliding up and squeezing the plus soft skin as he could see her side glance  biting her lip suppressing any sound that might come from those heavenly lips . sometimes  moment like this it was hard to believe she was his , this incredible goddess like woman that was his to have.  She was fighting it , fighting the desperate neediness that was dying to come out . when they finally arrived back at his place it was like she could thank whoever for finally cutting the torture . a quick goodbye to the driver and the two were gone almost running to the house.  Kissing his cheek , his neck suddenly the man didn’t know how to use a key so focused on  her touch he stood hover over the lock til she took them in her hands unlocking the door. 

“ i can’t wait anymore and been dying to show you my surprise” she winked heading off to his room dropping and pulling off her costume as he followed behind at this rate he was sure he was under some spell floating in the direction of his bedroom ready to be the solo to her leia .  then it all stopped  his breathing , thinking , shit he really died  and went to nerd central heaven .   it was perfect every part almost spot on accurate as he took in the browns , golds and blue of the lack of clothing .  like it couldn’t get better she took her bag clipping the chain to  the collar . 

“ the hair isn’t leia anymore but i think it still works “ she laughed as her hair fell from the buns sitting  messy and wild shit it really did . 

“ fucking  hell baby .. this was what was under your dress the whole time ?” he groaned coming toward one part of him didn’t wanna touch her , like she was mint condition couldn’t take it out of the box and another part of him wanted to tear the box to shreds and enjoy his present .  the soft nod  confirmed the answer to his question. Then it was like he came back to reality  and a fire breaking through pulling the chain pulling her to him kissing ever  part of her skin soft moans and whimpers falling from her lips pulling back looking into her almost black eyes , the rise and fall of her chest    and the curl of her lip  when she slowly fell to her knees  and  he swore his love was out to kill him tonight if it was it was working. That doe eyed looking up at him , hand going to his pant as he yanked the chain making her jolt forward ,  looking back up to see him smirking , coming to to his sense in a dangerous grin .

“ ready to see the galaxies baby “ he smirked leaning down  making her breathe hitch knowing she was done for but fuck was she  excited for it