#And it feels like - idk how to exactly describe it - but like it's part of something much *bigger* than me

[jadetheblueartist]

I’m in a lore spilling mood and this needs to be done at some point so now is good. Better buckle up bc idk how long this is gonna be and I don’t even know what exactly I’ll go into. (Little warning for some violence) So without further ado, please enjoy the story of

The Orion Initiative

-Season One:

This is the story of four teens who all find themselves in alien hunting program- the Orion Initiative. They, among many others, apply for this opportunity and are accepted to receive their training and employment on the Orion’s spaceship. These four meet and come together as friends as they discover the more sinister side to this program in an episodic format (that quietly sets up the “big problem” in the background). Let’s meet the cast.

Megan

Megan had grown up on this spaceship, specifically in the area dedicated to scientific research. She was part of the research after all. Megan didn’t know what exactly had been done to her over the years, but she knew she was different. It was hard to compare herself to other people though since this ship and the people on it were all she’d known. Well, it was all she knew until the program began. Megan watched from afar for a few years as strangers came to live on the ship. She didn’t get too many opportunities to interact with them, nor was she allowed to, but she didn’t mind. Just to observe was enough. But one year, when the next wave of trainees flooded the halls and she watched them bumble about excitedly while getting her enhancements, one of the scientists told her the news. She would be joining the program this year. Megan was admittedly very nervous. She had alarmingly little information about this program despite her proximity to it, and she would be thrust into the midst of these strangers. Regardless of her thoughts about it, it was happening. Her few belongings were moved into a new room she would share with another girl, who looked like she could be her own age. The other girl looked up and walked over quickly, sticking her hand out in front of her. “Hi, I’m Zelda! I guess, we’re roommates?” Megan wasn’t sure what to think at first; this girl seemed strange and different, but not bad. Later, Zelda gave her a knotted bracelet. It had meant that they were friends, she told her. Megan didn’t take it off.

Zelda

Zelda had it all going for her. She was about to finish high school with a 4.0 GPA, the had a group of friends and family that loved her, and she was lined up to go to her dream college on a scholarship. So why didn’t it feel right? She’d been preparing for this moment for so long, but it felt like something was missing, like she should be doing something more. That was when she discovered something- the Orion Initiative, an elite program where she could live in space and be professional trained to hunt aliens. That definitely sounded better than going to a stale college for the next few years. Besides, this program was training and a guaranteed job with compensated room and board. It was literally the total package. And if she ended up hating it, college would still be there… After rearranging her plans, Zelda was soon packed and saying her goodbyes to her friends and family. She would miss them, but it was time she did something exciting with her life. After arriving and setting up her things in her room, she met her new roommate. Her roommate seemed a little closed off at first, but after gifting her a friendship bracelet, they seemed to click. Plus, when she was going around and meeting some other new recruits her age, she met a guy who was really cute. As it turned out, he and his friend’s room were in the same hallway as hers. This was going to be great.

Xander

Xander had a job to do. He had been researching this program for years, but the internet didn’t hold much about it. The Orion Initiative- the website vaguely described it as a program that would train and employ its applicants to hunt the aliens that could pose a threat to earth. It was advertised as completely voluntary, you can drop out at any time, you can always stay in touch with your loved ones. But if that was the case, then why did his brother just disappear? There had been nothing from him since he left. Xander had texted and called him everyday, but the phone didn’t even ring. His mom said that he was probably just distracted and busy with his new work, but she was one to talk. She was always busy and distracted; it would be hard for her to really realize something was wrong with this. So now, he had a job to do. His mom thought she was seeing him off to the airport as he flew to his university, but that wasn’t exactly true. He hoped she wouldn’t have to find out what was happening, that it was all just a misunderstanding and his brother just didn’t have service. Maybe he could really go to university one day. But not now. Xander was cautious and observant as he navigated the spacecraft. In any other circumstance, it might’ve been pretty cool. He asked around about his brother (“Do you know Jake Lee?”), but everyone there was new like him. He met a few people, like his roommate and girl who seemed really sweet, but he could still sense that something was off about this place. And he was going to figure it out.

Anik

Anik needed to get out. He was sick of everything. Sick of school. Sick of his parents. He just needed to get away. He needed to do something to get his mind off of things; he needed some control over his life. He had been scrolling on his phone when he was given a strange ad, boasting a great program where applicants could be trained to hunt aliens? Anik was intrigued. The website didn’t say many specifics, but it completely covered training and living costs? This was perfect. Anik would practically be paid to do dangerous stuff, and his parents might finally get off his back about his plans for the future. It was almost too good to be true. He was definitely doing this. After a little while of preparing everything, he was off to this program. He arrived and put his things in his room, where he met his roommate. The guy was pretty chill, but he did seem to be looking for some guy named Jake. He was a little preoccupied in Anik’s opinion since they were on a literal spaceship, but he didn’t care too much. He and Xander went to meet people soon after, and Anik had to hold himself back from cringing when they met this one girl. By the way those two were looking at each other, he could tell they would definitely be seeing her again. After quietly backing out of that conversation, he made his way around to some other people- he wanted to know what exactly they would be doing for this training. No one he found knew though, since they were all new. He guessed that the people who had already been through training must be in a different location. It didn’t really matter too much to him though. This was the start of the coolest thing he’d done in his life, and he was gonna make it count.

After coming together, the gang will go on to partake in little adventures as they learn life lessons and grow their relationships with one another. Zelda becomes the self-appointed leader of the group with her confident and competent nature and her ability to think quickly. Megan feels sort of out of place within the group and usually just follows Zelda around and lets her do the decision making. Xander is a sort of instigator who will pull the team into investigating certain situations, but will always be quick to help whenever they need it. Anik feels uncomfortable in the group dynamic but eventually comes to find his place as the heart and protector of the team. The leader of this program (who Megan knew as a sort of mother) often interacts with them specifically, giving them their missions and seeing to their concerns.

In one of the very important plot episodes, the team is training. The training takes place in a closed and monitored forest environment on one of the planets that’s used to test before field work. Somehow, a strange alien makes it into the training area where it’s not supposed to be. The team is able to exterminate it and move on. Soon after, Megan (the one in closest contact with it) begins to feel and act strange. The other three become worried as she becomes more animalistic and aggressive. This comes to a head when Megan’s eyes turn completely dark and begin leaking a dark liquid. Her mouth begins to foam and her breathing technology is damaged, but she attacks them and runs away. The team tries to get out but everything is locked down. They are trapped in the training area with their friend who seems to be infected by some exposure to an alien and is now trying to kill them. The rest of the episode depicts them waiting for the doors to open as they try to escape. First, she emerges from the shadows and slams Anik against the ground, effectively knocking him out. The other two begin to run as they hear but don’t see Megan in the plants around them. Next Megan knocks Zelda to the ground and throws several punches, but Zelda is able to fend her off with some of their equipment. Megan retreats momentarily before rushing Zelda from behind and knocking her down as she jumps for Xander. He puts up a fight as she pins him to the ground and, with a sickening crunch, rips his arm completely from its socket. Zelda runs back at this time and, although she doesn’t want to harm her friend, it’s past that. She shoots her in the leg causes Megan to run back into the darkness. It only takes a few minutes before the doors finally open and the three are rushed to the medical wing. They also tell the people about Megan, who is still in the environment and acting murderous. The people say they will take care of it. After a few hours, Megan comes to in the middle of a dark forest. Her breathing technology is broken, making her breaths very shallow and difficult. She’s covered in blood and a human arm lies in her lap. She’s there until morning, when she is found and taken to a lab. They said that the cause of the episode was due to the exposure to the strange alien. Even though she wasn’t in control of her actions, the whole team is uneasy about the experience and the relationships become slightly strained.

Subtly in each episode, the main plot is set up. The Orion Initiative, though claiming its purpose is to protect earth from aliens with a force of hunters, really is using the hunters in order to further their research. They need to stay in an alien infested place and because of this are vulnerable. These volunteers are sent out to “protect” the ship, but if they can’t, the aliens will be satisfied with a payment. There have been many different experiments to potentially enhance their hunters, so that they don’t have to lose so many people. Not many have been successful, although Megan is one of the few. The alien that got into the training area was planted there as an experiment.

In the season finale, the extent of the program’s villainy is discovered. After the gang confronts the program leader about, she explains the situation. She tells them about what’s really been happening (conveniently leaving out how many people have been killed thus far) but claims that they’ve only been researching in order to discover new methods of human mutation. If they can combine aliens and human dna, civilizations in space could be possible and utilized. They accept this answer at first, but the adventure of the episode leads them to the discovery of the death logs and failed experiments. As they look through the dark lab, they discover foggy glass capsules. A light switches on and they make a horrifying discovery. They are met face to face with the horribly mutated and disfigured face of Xander’s brother. Xander is horrified and despondent as they find more information about how they were failed experiments and a list of potential subjects that would be next. This causes panic. This program wasnt for helping people, it was for collecting canon fodder and voluntary subjects. They spread the news to the rest of the trainees and plan to make their escape by taking a smaller ship back to earth. Among the members of the main four, things grow more tense as Xander, arguably the most deeply affected by this, lashes out at Megan. He claimed she knew this whole time and had been helping them; that��s why she ripped off his arm. His brother was a freak human experiment who got killed because of her. Megan tried to defend herself but was uncertain. She always had listened to the program after all, and she did hurt her friends. Zelda almost couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t think Megan would do that, but she’s practically admitting to it. “You really helped them do all of this?” she asked. Anik comes to her defense, reminding them that she wasn’t in her right mind when it happened, asking Megan if she wanted to help the program. She shook her head. “See?” he said. “She wouldn’t do it if she had a choice. We need to focus on getting out of here, not on this.” They all agree to put it aside for the moment and go on with their plan. After some interference with technology, they managed to cut some power and get everyone to the evacuation ship. As they’re running and get to the boundary between the main ship and the escape ship, Megan gets caught on an invisible barrier. She can’t cross over onto the ship. The others don’t notice until they begin to close things off. They realize that she’s stuck, but security begins to come towards the escape ship. There isn’t enough time. Zelda has to make a decision. She decides to prioritize the people on the ship and close the doors on Megan. She and Xander aren’t happy about it, but realize it has to be done. Anik can’t believe it and is shocked, telling her to stop the doors. She reasons that it’s too late for Megan. Anik runs at the closing doors and slides through at the last second, making it to Megan as the security closed in around them.

Nyehehe that was season one :D I’m gonna reblogged it with season two bc boy did it get lengthy. I wrote this out mainly bc I wanna make out of chronological order art and I needed to give yall context ^^ just gonna tag you here bud @banana-pancake5 :)

[nowendil]

been thinking a lot about womanhood lately

[redpanda-redpanda]

Share Your Last Seven Lines/Heads Up, Seven Up

Thanks for tagging me @leng-m! Glad to see you're writing, especially after the 10k disaster. ❤️ I've actually been poking at a new story, one about a girl who hunts monsters, so this was really fun.

I had been walking for only a short time when the scream pierced the dawn.

I froze on the path, and then, low under my breath, I cursed.

It was not a human scream – it was too high-pitched for that, more like a jungle cat with a clattering, creaking, clacking hiss twisting round it. I had been told that the village of Lesa was experiencing monster troubles, but I had not expected to run into it just yet.

My hand tightened atop my cane. Even now, after nearly three years of forcing myself to go toward trouble instead of away, it wasn’t easy. I put one foot in front of the other, as quickly as I was able, but before I could get very far, a shape parted the mist and hurried toward me.

I'm gonna tag anyone else who wants to do it because I always need more writer friends. :)

[peach-pot]

I will say one thing I always think about while watching the good place is how like…. interesting the balance it strikes between conforming to and defying amatanormativity is.

[sad-writers]

Top 10 things to tell my mom when its all over

I just can’t tell her right now because one of us always pays the price for the others feelings

I sometimes still think about when you said you would leave, I sometimes wonder if your suitcase is packed ready to start over in the same way mine is packed ready to go home

I’m disappointed in myself these days. I think you would be too if you had the time to look at me. 

I think your husband and I would get along if I just wasn’t his child. Or maybe we still wouldn’t because I have his worst tendencies and I hate them on him just like he hates them on me.

I think you’d be a doctor if I wasn’t around. I think you would've lived your dream, and you would've been proud of yourself.

I’m really lonely here. I would go home but I’m lonely there too.

I’m still trying to impress you. All I try to do is make you feel like I was worth having. Was I worth having? Do you regret me yet?

I wish I could be young again. I would let you go back to a better version of me if I could.

I still cry and wait for you to notice me. I always wait and want for you to knock on my door and ask if I’m okay. I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life wanting a hug from my mommy. 

How can I fix this? I’m asking you for that mother daughter advice one last time, how can I fix this? I’m begging for you to tell me one last time, I need to know. 

I’m sorry for being born and I’m sorry for being home and I’m sorry for not being home. I’m sorry I get such bad grades in school and that I cry all the time. I'm sorry for needing you so much. I'm sorry you never traveled the world, or got a big house, or built your savings, or became a boy mom like you wanted. I’m sorry that it was me that you got, instead of all those nice things.

[determinate-negation]

what are your thoughts about hamas / or do you have marxist oriented or just good not western media biased resources for understanding them?

theyre an islamist anti colonial organization, theyre also a political party with a military wing (al qassam brigades) which is what people usually are referring to when they talk about ~hamas~. they won in elections and have a degree of popular support and, because they are the ruling political party, theyre in charge of civil institutions in gaza, like schools and hospitals etc. when reporters describe things like the gaza health ministry as “hamas run” when they would never say this about another political party, they are purposefully trying to delegitimize it and obscuring the fact that they are the government that won in elections, not a rogue terrorist cell. al qassam brigades was not the only part of the resistance that took part in the attack on october 7, there are a bunch of other factions like the islamist PIJ, marxist PFLP and DFLP, and some others. im not the most knowledgable on like politics within gaza and exactly how people feel about hamas but theyre absolutely not a terrorist group, i think theyre much closer to other anti colonial militant organizations like the viet cong and algerian national liberation front. theyre also fighting an asymmetrical war using guerrilla strategies like the viet cong and nlf, and western media misrepresents this with all the shit about “hiding weapons by civilians” or whatever. i would recommend looking into the history of guerilla warfare and anti colonial struggle to understand why im criticizing media representations of it. they also make a lot of their rockets from scraps of israeli bombs! i think people should make a better distinction that hamas is a political party with a military wing (al qassam brigades) because then its more obvious that bombing civilian infrastructure thats allegedly “hamas run” is a war crime. also i heard in their statements that most of their militants are orphans whos parents were killed by israel and i think that should be noted. i think its also incorrect to say they have an issue with jews in general and are rabidly antisemitic as if their main aim is to kill jews, the way most media portrays them. they very specifically exist because of the continued occupation of palestine and without that i do not think they would give a shit about jews. they attack settler because theyre settlers, not because theyre jews. idk this article was pretty good and has a link to their 2017 charter where they specifically say their struggle is against zionism not jews

heres their charter thats linked in the article but ngl i just recommend reading their statements and material in general. not saying take every single thing at face value but theyre a political party with issues like any other, not evil sadistic terrorists. and why let mainstream media set the terms of your understanding of them

[dotster001]

Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

3k follower masterlist

No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!" 

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?" 

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

[sohnric]

distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised. 

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice. 

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery. 

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink. 

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major  (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer. 

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told. 

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar. 

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment. 

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers. 

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?” 

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration. 

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song. 

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.) 

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs. 

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount. 

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party. 

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment. 

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group. 

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear. 

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself. 

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams. 

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair. 

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time. 

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with. 

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it. 

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones. 

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

[anundyingfidelity]

TRAINING SEASON — Jensen Ackles

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship and a hard break up, you get trapped in between your co-star and a casual one night stand. But there's nothing you regret about.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader, actress!reader.

Word count: 1,076.

Warnings: implied sex like the morning-after-sex, nudity, some sexy time but no full smut, friends to lovers, language, idk just wrote this quickly.

Notes: AU where Jensen is obviously single, and reader is like 38 in my head don't asky why I like this number, I still have no idea. And I just love, and I mean, loooveeee getting obsessed with hot men over 40, can you tell?

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Opening your eyes, you stirred on the soft bed and noticed your sorroundings. This wasn't your hotel room. Your bare body hidden under the blank, messy bed sheets reminded you of yesterday's events. You smiled.

The other side of the bed was warm. His body pressing against yours felt perfect, and you wrapped your hand on his own, which was laying on your waist, like if he didn't want to let go of you. Your mind started remembering his touch on your skin, the way he would kiss every inch of your stomach, the trail of kisses he left all over you, and his love bites around your neck and chest. The burning between your thighs and the soreness let you notice it was as good as you imagined it to be, even before it happened.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked, raspy and soft voice booming in your ears.

"Mmm... Nothing, just how great you felt last night," you teased, turning your head to see his face directly. Bare skin, disheveled hair, and tired but loving eyes met you. God, he was beautiful. He looked so fucked out in the best way possible one could describe it.

Jensen chuckled and kissed your cheek. Still, he never let go his embrace on you. He looked at you vividly for a long time, scanning every feature of your face, like he wanted to save all of you in just an instant. Your brows furrowed for a moment.

"What?" you whispered.

"We didn't fuck this up, did we?"

A sigh left your lips, your hand ran on his hair softly. You knew what he meant. You had a bad relationship and an even worse break up months before you started working together, and Jensen became a great friend as you tried to overcome it. And it was so hard not to fall for him when it felt like you knew each other for decades. He was someone you could trust your deepest secrets, pain and thoughts. A part of you did not want to cry on his shoulder for days once you got comfortable around him, nor letting him know how terrible you felt at the time. But he never judged you. He just was there, listening and offering a helping hand expecting nothing back.

But your feelings changed in the course. As months went by, an amazing, caring and loving friendship bloomed between both of you. Since the project was a long new TV series, you used to spend a huge amount of time together as your characters appeared to be in a slow building relationship. And now, the premiere was done, but the press tour barely started, so that meant you were not getting away from each other in a good time now.

"No," you finally answered. "Of course no."

"I mean, I know what you been through, and I- I don't wanna ruin anything-"

"Jensen, is fine," you cut him off. His eyes locked on yours, concern washed all over his handsome face. "I am fine with this, are you?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I always was. I mean, I liked you for a long time now," he laughed a little, making you smile. One of his hands now carressing your bare thigh, feeling the heat of your skin.

Jensen leaned down and pecked your lips softly, his lips slowly found its way to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh, exactly how he did last night. He groaned, tasting the saltiness, and you let out a soft moan as he flipped you around. You laid on your back, him on top. His tongue tracing your skin, stopping right before your breats. God, you were getting wet again.

Unlucky for you, your phone started ringing, breaking the moment and Jensen, with a disappointed look on his face, gave you the space to run and answer. By the way you were talking, he figured it was your manager, so he hid behind the covers, admiring you from afar. When you ended the phone call, you walked to him. His eyes kept lusting over your naked figure as you looked for your clothes all over the room. He sadly knew you were postponing until you had enough alone time together.

"I keep forgetting we're still on press tour," you kissed his cheek softly once you put on your underwear and grabbed your clothes to get decent to leave. "I'll be going now, sorry."

"It's fine," Jensen smiled, standing up and putting up some pants. He followed you before you crossed the door. "I'll see you later tonight then, how about dinner?" he casually asked, leaning down. "And then we could probably take care of some other things," he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip, eager to know what he had in mind.

"That'll be amazing, surprise me!"

You gave him a playful wink, and taking your purse you left his room with a wide grin on your face. You were so glad you stopped dating trainees to build a relationship with. Jensen was a self-confident, expert man, and you were more than happy to give it a shot.

[professor-beaker]

(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

[kingkat12]

seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex

summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?

word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5

a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store. 

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles. 

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting. 

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs. 

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine," 

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor. 

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him. 

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled,  and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere.  "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice." 

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw," 

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest. 

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such strong a need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much? 

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt. 

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more. 

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality. 

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing any time soon. 

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there," 

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine. 

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness. 

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all. 

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down. 

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go. 

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better. 

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car. 

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets. 

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks," 

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air. 

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly. 

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing," 

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag. 

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn. 

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had. 

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?" 

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Naughty."

"You?"

"Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

That was definitely unexpected. And quite young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile. 

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

 I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends. 

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together. 

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold. 

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!" 

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial? 

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us. 

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar. 

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie." 

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch. 

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose. 

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered. 

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair? 

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet. 

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others. 

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public. 

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath. 

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled? 

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip. 

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this? 

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, and PART 5!<33 thank you for reading!!)

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

hi!! so idk exactly how to describe this but i was wondering if you could write an ethan landry x fem!reader fic with a scene of ethan describing like his fantasies with the reader and what he touches himself to. idk what the story around that would be… maybe this is just something he babbles out during sex, or it could even lead to them trying out his fantasies. like i said, i dont really know. i just like the idea of ethan telling the reader what he imagines doing to her, or more accurately, what he imagines she will do to him, in order to get himself off. idk, have fun with it! tysm!!!!

Hi! If you want more to this, let me know:) I feel like it needs more, but I wanted to make sure this was in the direction you wanted it to go lol. If it's not, I can rewrite it. If it is, I'll definitely write a part 2, just let me know!

What's Your Fantasy? - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: You discover something on your boyfriends laptop, and you get curious about what his fantasies are.

A/N: I've been super busy, but I'm trying to get caught back up. My sweet bun that I've had for 7 years that always relaxed on my bed with me while I wrote passed away, so I've been a little in my feels. I hope ya'll like this:)

It was the first time that your poor boyfriend had ever been drunk. He ended up going shot for shot with Chad at a party, as you stood by watching them. Once he stopped making sour faces and yelled “This tastes like water”, you decided to leave the party early and take him home. You knew he was moments from blacking out, and in the high chance he could projectile, you preferred for it to be at his apartment and not all over the rest of the party guests.

Projectile he did, into several bushes and a random trashcan on the walk back. Once you got him back to his place, you knew you couldn’t leave him like that. You helped him get undressed and put on sweatpants before you changed into one of Ethan’s extra-large shirts that he kept specifically for you to sleep in when you stayed over. He sat in his desk chair as he started to get a little dizzy.

You grabbed a trashcan, putting it beside the bed, and grabbed some water for him. You washed your makeup off in the bathroom, before heading back to him. You were going to spoon him so he wouldn’t throw up on you, and if he moved, you knew it would wake you up. You knew exactly how the night would go, or so you thought.

“Babeeee, I don’t know if I submitted my assignments,” he said, or that’s what it sounded like he said.

“Where’s your laptop?” you asked, looking around the room for it.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Do you think you can make it to the bathroom?” you asked, as he stood up and stumbled to the door.

You barely made it there with him, just in time. You grabbed an ice-cold wash cloth and put it on the back of his neck, and started to rub his back as he continued to throw up. When he finally stopped, you helped him up and took him back to his bed.

“I fucking love you,” he mumbled, as you rolled your eyes at his heavily-intoxicated state.

“I love you too babe. Lay this way in case you get sick, I just need to find your laptop and I’ll cuddle with you in a minute,” you said, scanning the room before seeing a corner of it sticking out from under his bed.

You opened it and put in his password, clicking on the tab for his schoolwork. He did submit everything he was supposed to, but you saw something interesting on the other tab, so you got a little, well, very nosey. When you opened it, you saw that it was porn.

You looked over to Ethan, who was lightly snoring. You felt like you had an angel on one shoulder, telling you not to watch it. A devil on the other shoulder, telling you to see what kind of porn he liked to watch. You sort of felt like it was an invasion of his privacy, but you just had to know. You made sure the volume was low as you clicked play.

You noticed that the girl in the video, who had a few similarities to you, was giving some guy head. You thought ‘Oh, I’ve done this so many times for him’ until the end of the video, when the guy pulled out of the girl’s mouth and showered her face in his cum. Your eyes went wide as you watched it and wanted to know what else he liked to watch. You weren’t going to go through his history because you already felt bad enough about this, so you decided to have a talk with him later about things he’d like to try. You clicked back to the tab for his school stuff, before shutting his laptop and sitting it on his desk.

You crawled into the bed beside him, covering him over with a blanket and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed the back of his head, his curls tickling your face, before resting your head against his upper back as you spooned him.

You didn’t sleep well, waking up at least once an hour to check on Ethan. He slept peacefully, which you were thankful for, even if you were worried about him all night.

When he finally started to stir awake, he groaned out. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you take as many shots as you did,” you said softly, both from the exhaustion and not wanting his head to hurt worse.

“I don’t remember anything except walking into that party,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”

“Of course. Do you want to take something for your head?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

“Please,” he sighed, as you got up to grab Tylenol from your purse.

After he took the medicine, and you knew he was okay, you desperately needed a few hours of sleep. You curled back up on your designated side of his bed, pulling the blanket over you. You quickly dozed off, as he snuggled back up to you.

When you woke up, you noticed that Ethan was no longer with you. You went to look for him and found him on the couch watching tv. He started making grabby-hands at you the second he saw you.

“Come here,” he said, grabbing your hips and pulling you down to straddle him.

“Someone’s feeling better,” you giggled as his hands rubbed your sides under his shirt you were wearing.

“I need a shower, want to join me?” he asked, as you felt him pressing against you through his sweatpants.

“I’ll race you there,” you smirked, jumping off him.

You heard his footsteps right behind you as he grabbed you by your hips and turned you to face him the second you made it to the bathroom door.

“You cheated. You had a head start,” he laughed, as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You smiled as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. His hands ran under your big t-shirt and over the curve of you ass, pulling you even closer to him.

“I thought you wanted to shower?” you giggled, noticing the look in his eyes. The one that he always has when he so desperately wants to fuck you.

“Fineee,” he sighed, letting go of your ass as you backed away.

When you were in the shower with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about the video you watched the night before. Ethan is very confident with you, but he tends to hold back when it comes to sex. When you felt his hard cock resting against you as he kissed you under the flow of the water, your lips moved to his neck as your hand went to his erection.

“Fuck,” he said, as your hand wrapped it and started stroking.

“Hey baby?” you asked, placing kisses along his neck.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any fantasies about me?” you questioned, innocence in your tone as your hand started to move faster. His breath hitched in his throat, both out of nervousness and how good you were making him feel. “Come on, baby. Do you ever think about things you want to do to me? Or things you want me to do to you?”

“Yes,” he answered, his breathing getting faster.

“What do you think about?” your teeth started to graze his neck, the feeling making his whimper.

“Oh fuck..uh… I love to think about cumming on your face when I’m trying to get off. And every time I see you take your birth control, it makes me want to cum inside you so bad,” he said, as you smiled against his neck. “I cum so hard whenever I think about my cum dripping out of your pussy.”

“You want me to let you cum on my face, baby?” you asked, dropping to your knees in front of him.

“No..fuck..yes I just don’t want you to think I’m degrading you,” he finally got out, as the simple licks to his tips turned to you swirling your tongue. “I don’t want you to think you have to do stuff like that to make me happy.”

You pulled away, your eyes connecting with his. “Even if I’m down here on my knees begging you for it.”

“Fuck, baby,” he said, his cock aching at your words.

“Tell me what I do to you when you think about me like this. Walk me through it, baby,” you said, leaning forward to lick his tip again.

He intently watched you as your hands went to his thighs, holding on to them as you balanced yourself. You’d always been in charge when it came to sex, just because he was usually so shy. Seeing you like this in front of him made him wish he would’ve said something sooner. Even though you initiated it, he still felt like he was in control.

“You suck on the head of my cock,” he whimpered, as you took his sensitive tip in your mouth, gently sucking.

You kept doing it, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“Then you take more of it in your mouth, not too much though,” he said, eyes intently on you as you put him further in your mouth. Your head was moving back and forth, as his hand went to your hair.

“Take the whole thing, baby. I know you can do it.”

When you started to gag around him, his fingers tangled in your wet hair, as he gently thrusted into your mouth. Your wetness mixed with the water from the shower dripped down your thighs as his whimpers got louder.

“Just like that, baby. You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, as you moaned around him. Your clit was throbbing as you put one of your hands in between your legs, giving your needy bundle of nerves the attention you were craving.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum. Stick your tongue out for me,” he groaned, starting to release in your mouth. He pulled back, your tongue sticking out as he stroked himself and he shot the rest of his cum on your face. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

His eyes kept trying to close as the euphoric feeling washed over him, but he fought it, not wanting to miss a second of you on your knees in front of him with his cum on your face as the water started to wash it away.

You smirked as you stood back up, standing directly under the flow of the water to rinse the rest of it off your face. You grabbed your face wash, cleansing your skin with it as you felt his hands wrap around your waist.

“Did you like that?” he asked, as your mouth turned up into a sweet smile.

“You have no idea how wet I am right now.” Your lips connected with his as his hand reached between your thighs. “What else do you want to try? After we go to your room and I let you cum in me, of course.”

[hoejosatoru]

Skill Set -Tokyo Rev Men

What body part (hands, mouth, cock) Tokyo Rev men (+Yahuza and Senju) are best with. All characters post timeskip. Yes I reused the blurbs from my haikyu version of this there’s only so many ways to generically describe sex acts so it applies to multiple characters lmfao.

Can finger you like no one else. One of the few men who has not lost the fine art of fingering. His fingers are long and slender but so strong. His hands are rough and scarred from years of getting into fights, but it feels so good. He finds your g spot easily, pressing into it until you’re soaked and needy. “Hmm, you like when I touch you like that, angel?” He toys with your clit until you’re right at the edge before plunging his fingers back into your throbbing pussy. Loves how easy it is to tease you like that. How fully in control he is over your pleasure with just a few touches. It’s such an ordinary part of the body, the hands, and yet his can pull the sweetest moans out of you like it’s nothing. “Go on and cum all over my fingers, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze ‘em real good.” Will literally play with your pussy for hours and absolutely will.

Takemichi (I think he was intimidated by sex stuff, but fingering felt approachable so he just did that a ton & got good at it), Mitsuya (so good with his hands & makes it feel so romantic), Kisaki (he is a nasty little tease with it. Love the power imbalance of you being fully naked while he’s clothed and touching you), Takeomi (loves making you watch in front of a mirror, big into pussy slaps), Hakkai, Angry, Koko (a tease, but like its fun), Naoto

Loves eating pussy so much. Does it for his own pleasure as much as yours. Does it in all different positions - missionary, face sitting, from the back. Literally doesn’t care as long as he gets to eat you out. He presses his tongue into your tight hole, wiggling the warm, soft muscle inside you. “Mmm, tastes so fucking sweet.” Sucks on your clit until you’re squirming away from him. But don’t think you’re going anywhere. He’ll grip your hips tight, flicking his tongue over your aching clit until you’re gasping and shaking. He loves when you get lost in it, rutting your pussy against his tongue. “Yeah, baby, fuck my tongue just like that.” He’s not happy until his face is covered in your slick cum.

Shinichiro (please sit on this mans face he wants, no needs, to feel your thighs squeezing his face), Kauztora (so needy about it, loves knowing he makes you feel good. Regularly cums himself when eating you out), Smiley, Wakasa (he is so good but is a such tease. Makes you beg for it & then will eat you out until you’re begging him to stop bc you're so sensitive), Izana (also a tease, loves edging you like crazy until you’re practically in tears begging, then makes you cum w the littlest flick of his tongue), Yahuza (she knows what the fuck she is doing!)

Gives the best dick. He’s nice and big, making your pussy stretch pleasurable every time. He knows exactly where to angle himself to get you seeing stars. Loves pressing your knees up to your chest and getting himself so deep inside you. “Feel that baby? Feel me in your tummy?” A weaker man would bust when he felt your pussy squeezing him like a vice, but he has unrivaled restraint. He knows how to perfectly work you up with, slow, long thrusts, then finishes you off fast and hard snaps of his hips. He’s so strong and can put the most delicious weight behind each pounding thrust. “Fuck princess, feel so good cumming on my cock.” Expect to go multiple rounds.

Taiju (the breading kink goes crazy on this one I fear), South (actually takes it kinda slow w you bc he’s massive and he knows it), Mucho, Benkei, Baji (he is a a huge doggy style enjoyer), Mochi, Shion (nasty with it), Rindou (I feel like rindou is just fucking slinging dick like idk how else to put it. Also I feel like he has a really nice dick overall.), Sanzu (loves making you ride him and then ends up fucking up into you), Chifu (he’s the type you don’t expect much from bc he’s small but then you can barely walk the next day), Senju (ok ik she doesn’t have a dick but she DOES have a strap and is so good with it. Also will scissor you so good so she deserves to be here)

BONUS - The men who can literally do it all. Can finger you senseless, will eat your pussy for hours, and will fuck you until you can barely walk. All above applies to them

Draken (idc if I’m being bias but Draken can fuck like no other. He’s such a nice, big cock, loves having you sit on his face, and his are so rough and warm and god I need him!), Ran (he’s a SLUT), Inui (he just has so much sex appeal like? There’s just something about him that I just KNOW he’s so good a pleasuring), Kakucho (Kind of a dark horse, but he’s so, so attentive to his partner. Really good at adapting to exactly what makes you feel good), Hanma (again, slut. He makes you beg for everything and is kinda a meanie, but worth it), Mikey (I think different timeline versions of Mikey may be stronger in different areas but overall I think Mikey has solid skills across the board. Also is v good at being Dom and sub, so it keeps things interesting)

[thedevilssinner]

Elven soulmates - Astarion x Elf!Tav - Headcanon

I listened to one song and for some reason it screamed Astarion x Tav at me. This man is really ruining my life 😅

Anyway… the song was ‘IDK you yet’ and I just thought about the two of them being soulmates or something like that and then I found a thread on https://www.enworld.org about elven relationships and someone mentioned soulmates which got me searching and I found this page https://www.realmshelps.net/charbuild/races/elf/leaf.shtml where is mentioned that elves can find someone they call their thiramin which should mean soulmate in elvish language. 

Here’s the part from the https://www.realmshelps.net :

Upon reaching adulthood, elves continue their sexual explorations. Eventually, though, each discovers that his heart has developed a capacity for lasting and exclusive love. Like most other important things in their lives, elves describe this in mystical terms. They believe that a person's spiritual progress is unknowingly intertwined with that of another. This soulmate is called a thiramin. Upon meeting his thiramin, an elf's heart fills with passion and certainty. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the other party is felled by the same feeling of immediate and eternal devotion. (Though rare, an unrequited feeling of thiramin is always disastrous, bringing centuries of wrenching heartbreak. Sufferers often commit suicide or succumb to the temptations of evil.) Elves almost always feel thiramin for people they meet for the first time: In other words, visitors from other communities. Intermarriage between communities strengthens the bonds of communication between settlements, allowing them to quickly band together against the armies of evil that march across the land.

Now… You can imagine what that did to me, when I thought about the idea of Elf Tav knowing Astarion before he was turned into a vampire so… here’s some headcanons. Suffer with me.

Tav and Astarion met in Baldur's gate. Tav being new to the city. Young elf exploring the world outside their home.

Maybe they met in an art gallery or a tavern or some other place… that’s up to you, but when their eyes met, they immediately knew the other one was their thiramin. Heart beating wildly as they smile at each other.

They start dating, of course. Trying to get to know each other and spend as much time together as possible. 

I think that Tav would call Astarion their star… or maybe even ‘my starry night’

Astarion would call them ‘my moon’ (idk, I just love the idea of them using moon and stars as pet names)

Or… inspired by Game of Thrones - Astarion would call Tav ‘my sun and stars' while Tav would call him ‘the moon of my life’

Maybe they dated for a year or two, thinking about buying a house together.

But then Astarion was beaten ‘to death’ by the Gurs.

Tav could immediately tell that something was terribly wrong. The connection they felt with Astarion severing and sharp pain piercing through their heart. Panicked, they tried to find Astarion, going to his home but they already came too late.

Their blood turned into ice when they saw the mercenaries from the Flaming Fist already around his home. Seeing them carrying an awfully pale and beaten body of Astarion. (I don't remember if it was mentioned if Astarion lived in a Lower or Upper city before he was turned, so I chose a Lower city 🤷🏻‍♀️) (Also, not sure how and where exactly were he turned so I hope this is fine)

After a few days, Tav still couldn’t comprehend what truly happened. They felt just… empty. As if every color, every piece of happiness was ripped away from their soul. Not even able to visit Astarion’s grave because of that.

When Tav's family found out, they came to them, taking them to their homeland, because they knew how bad losing your soulmate could end for an elf. Tav fell into a deep grief and depression that lasted almost 100 years, doing some questionable things here and there until they started to function again.

On the other side - Astarion was beaten by Gurs but his final death came from Cazador, the change itself working just like if he truly died. His connection to Tav is severed and the shock of his change into a vampire erases all memory of them from his mind.

And then the 200 years of torture begin. Astarion doing anything he could and needed to do for survival. Flirting and luring victims to Cazador. He was good at it, great even, but something always felt wrong. 

Well, everything he did for Cazador was wrong, but touching another person, sleeping with them, and whispering words of love to them seemed wrong for another reason he couldn't understand. It was as if his subconscious was always trying to tell him something, but he couldn't say what.

There was just always something wrong with the victims. Wrong eye color, wrong tone of voice or even their pet names they sometimes used for him. 

Is he missing something? Someone? Longing for the embrace of a specific person that is unknown to him.

He always blamed his vampirism for this feeling. Thinking that’s just how it is. The feeling of wrongness and emptiness residing in him for the 200 years of his unlife.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

But back to Tav:

After a hundred years of grief, Tav finally started to get better. Diving into learning the profession/class they have chosen. Trying to enjoy life as much as they could, but the emptiness never fully disappeared. As if part of their soul was still gone.

They even tried to date, pressured by their family to at least try, but when their new partner tried to kiss them… they just couldn’t do it, dull pain spreading through their body and guilt flooding their mind. They immediately break up with the person and decide never to find a partner again.

But apart from that, they were relatively happy. Another 100 years slowly drifting away, the memories of Astarion remaining, if a little faded.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

Game plot:

Tav was walking with Shadowheart and Gale when they heard someone call for help.

Of course, they immediately headed for the voice, trying to help all the survivors of the crashed ship.

But when they finally came to the person they heard, the blood ran cold in their veins, the weapon they held falling from their grasp. It was like seeing him for the first time in their life but at the same time not… Astarion.

They notice that he looks different. His eyes are the wrong color and he’s so pale… but it’s him. They know it is because their soul sang when their eyes locked… but how? 

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those bran things…” Astarion's voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes on Tav and gasped as an unfamiliar sensation filled his body. It was as if everything finally clicked and his mind was flooded with memories he didn't know he had.

That's how far I've come with this idea. I'm not sure how it would have gone on, but I imagine it would have taken a while for Tav and Astarion to become partners again. Both mourning the years they could have spent together if it weren't for Cazador. Tav learning to love the new Astarion he has become, because he was different from the elf they knew before and Astarion learning to love again overall.

[lllivia]

This was never supposed to happen

Natalie Scatarccio x f!reader

Summary: Nat's asshole of a dad ruins everything

Warnings: not proofread, angst, homophobia (might have gone a bit far idk 🫢), modern au

Part 1 of 2

_

Music blasts through Nat's speaker as you lay on her bed, spread out comfortably as she sits on the floor scrolling on her phone.

10 minutes go by with the comfortable silence before you decide to put down your phone and finally speak up, not completely sure if this was a good idea.

"Hey Nat.. Yk how I told you that I kinda haven't kissed anyone before?" You pause for a second "Well I've been talking to this.. Person for a while and it's starting to get serious... So I was just wondering if maybe you could, idk - this is probably dumb but, teach me?"

You say quickly, staring up at the ceiling and expecting the worst.

"Okay"

"..Okay?"

"Yeah okay, I'll teach you dumbass" She smirks and crawls onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to hover over you.

Nat was always quite comfortable with who she was, openly talking about her experiences with men, while you on the other hand were much more reserved. So you weren't necessarily surprised when she said yes (since it was only going to be two girls practicing after all), but you still feel your hands get sweaty resting on your stomach as you stare right back at her, glancing down at her lips just to notice the shadow of her smirk still imprinted on her face.

"So um, what should I do? " you say awkwardly, fidgeting with your sweater as you struggle to not look away from the girl who's face is now merely inches away from yours.

"Just follow my lead okay?" She responds in a surprisingly soft voice before finally leaning in to where your lips ghost over each other, sighing slightly before gently pressing your lips together. One of her hands slowly creeping up to cup your face like she's afraid you might break if she adds too much pressure.

"Is this okay?" She pulls back to ask, her face flushed and her lips redder than usual as she scans your face for any discomfort.

"Yeah, yes, you can keep going" you respond quickly before pulling her back into you, unable to describe the tingling sensation fluttering through your entire body as your lips meet again in a slightly rougher matter, pent up need for your friend that you didn't know you had suddenly crashing down at you all at once.

"Shit Nat" you groan as she bites down on your lip, both of you forgetting that this was only supposed to be practice as her hands-

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE"

You quickly pull apart, your eyes flying open as you try to scramble away from Nat as her father stands in the now open doorway.

"WHAT KIND OF FAGGOT FILTH HAVE YOU BROUGHT INTO MY HOUSE GIRL??" He yells, pointing a dirty finger towards Nat as his other fist grips onto a half full bottle of alcohol, his disgusting breath seeping through the room as spit fly's out of his mouth.

Nat doesn't know how to respond, seemingly too shocked to answer as her dad continues shouting at her.

"ANSWER ME FREAK! YOU WEREN'T RAISED TO COMMIT SUCH SINS. YOU'RE A FUCKING DISGRACE YOU HEAR ME?? A DISGRACE.

NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I DECIDE TO SHOOT YOU AND YOUR GOOD FOR NOTHING FAG FRIEND"

He finishes, his last sentence barely having left his mouth before you run outside, your heart beating faster than it ever has and tears now streaming down your terrified face.

You turn back towards the trailer as you suddenly hear glass shattering, all your other worries almost forgotten as all you can think about is if Nat is okay.

You were about to go back inside when Nat storms out the door, slamming it behind her as she steps forward.

You weren't exactly sure what to say as you look at her, you'd never seen her in such a vulnerable state before. The usual cool and confident Natalie now replaced with a nearly crying girl, her hair disheveled, her shoulders shaking from the suppressed tears and one of her hands bleeding from a deep cut that you could only assume came from the shattering sound that come from inside the house mere seconds ago.

As she tries to hold in her tears she refuses to meet your eye, her expression changing between hatred, embarrassment, shame and more as she furiously wipes her face with her sleave.

"Nat? Are you o-"

"Go."

"What?? Your hand clearly needs medical attention, we can go back to mine"

"Just go."

"Stop being stupid Nat, I can't fucking leave you like this" you say and step towards her, anger starting to creep into your voice as you can't understand why she's acting this way towards you.

"I SAID GO" she suddenly shouts. "you heard what he said dyke, this was clearly a mistake and it was never supposed to happen!"

Her bloodshot eyes finally meet yours again and all you can see in them is hate and despair, tears spilling out as she bites her bottom lip hard before she looks down at her feet, immediately regretting everything she just said.

"Get the fuck out of here y/n" her voice breaks.

"Nat.." is all your broken voice manages to squeak out as your eyebrows furrow, the tightness in your chest feeling as though it might suffocate you as you finally turn away from her, walking away from who you thought was your best friend only 15 minutes ago - now feeling unsure that you'll ever see her the same again.

_

a/n: I'm too impatient to wait for the poll to finish, also I can't decide if this should have a sad or happy ending 😜 SEND REQUESTS, MY INBOX IS BASICALLY THE SAHARA DESERT RN CHAT 😢😢😢