#I’m not going to be lazy about this but I have time

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 

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[bookwormjust]

Insufferable duo (established relationship with Azriel, an afternoon with the IC, pairing together to tease Cassian)

The afternoon sunlight poured through the large windows of the House of Wind, casting a golden glow over the room as the Inner Circle gathered for a rare, peaceful moment together. It had been a long time since everyone could relax like this—no crises, no wars, no missions. Just laughter, conversation, and a chance to unwind. You were curled up beside Azriel on one of the plush couches, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, while Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor were scattered around the room, chatting easily.

And then there was Cassian. Loud, larger-than-life, and completely unsuspecting.

It had started innocently enough. Cassian had been boasting—again—about his latest training victory over a group of younger Illyrians, recounting the way he’d completely demolished them in a sparring match. He puffed out his chest, grinning like a fool, while Azriel sat quietly beside you, his lips twitching with barely-contained amusement.

You nudged Azriel’s leg with your knee, giving him a mischievous look that he immediately mirrored. There was a certain kind of unspoken language between the two of you, a silent understanding that could only come from years of knowing each other’s rhythms and moods. And right now? You were both thinking the same thing.

Cassian was way too easy to mess with.

“So, Cassian,” you started innocently, leaning forward in your seat. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us you took down all the Illyrians—by yourself? Without any help?”

Cassian grinned wider, his wings giving a little satisfied twitch. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. They didn’t stand a chance.”

You shot Azriel a quick look, and he smirked, already catching on to where this was going. “That’s funny,” Azriel drawled, his voice calm but laced with mock seriousness. “Because if I recall, didn’t you trip over your own feet during the last training session? Ended up face-first in the mud.”

Cassian shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. “That was one time.”

“One time?” you chimed in, feigning surprise. “Because I could have sworn I saw you do it twice. Wasn’t it twice, Az?”

Azriel nodded solemnly, playing along. “Definitely twice.”

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. “I didn’t trip. The ground was uneven.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure it was.”

At that, Rhysand chimed in from across the room, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. “I think I remember seeing that too. Wasn’t there a really big splash when he fell? Feyre, do you remember?”

Feyre bit her lip to keep from laughing, nodding in agreement. “There was definitely a splash.”

Cassian threw up his hands. “Alright, alright! I didn’t trip—okay, maybe I did, but it was a fluke. That doesn’t change the fact that I still wiped the floor with those Illyrians. Which is more than I can say for Az over there, hiding in the shadows as usual.”

Azriel just gave Cassian a slow, dangerous smile—the kind that always sent a chill down your spine, but you knew this one was purely playful. “Hiding in the shadows gets the job done,” he said smoothly. “I don’t need to throw myself face-first into the dirt to prove anything.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up, leaning into Azriel’s side. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Az never ends up face-down in the mud. Unlike someone.”

Cassian groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “You two are insufferable.”

You and Azriel exchanged a glance, both of you biting back grins. That one word—insufferable—was the green light for both of you to push it just a little further. With Cassian, that was always the fun part.

“Insufferable?” you repeated, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your heart. “Cass, I’m hurt. We’re just pointing out some... facts.”

Azriel leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “He’s really making this too easy.”

You stifled a giggle, leaning into the warmth of his body. “I know. It’s like he wants us to mess with him.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, sensing the conspiracy between you two. “What are you whispering about? Don’t think I can’t hear you.”

Azriel shrugged, completely unfazed. “Just discussing how it’s a miracle you can still call yourself a General Commander, considering how often you manage to embarrass yourself in front of all the Illyrians.”

Cassian let out an exaggerated huff, standing up from the couch and dramatically stretching his wings. “You know what? I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse. I’m leaving.” He pointed at you and Azriel, trying to hold onto his glare but failing miserably as the corners of his mouth twitched. “You two are worse together than a pair of drunk faelings. I’m going to find someone who appreciates me.”

You leaned back into Azriel’s chest, wrapping your arms around your knees as you grinned up at Cassian. “Good luck with that.”

Cassian was halfway to the door when Mor chimed in from across the room, her voice sweet and innocent. “Cassian, don’t forget to watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to trip again.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore—you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as Cassian turned, a deeply betrayed look on his face. "YOU TOO, Mor?!”

She just winked at him, clearly loving every second of it.

Cassian shook his head, dramatically sighing as he looked between you and Azriel. “I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” he said, backing toward the door. “You’re absolute menaces.”

Azriel didn’t even bother hiding his smile as he squeezed your shoulder, his voice laced with dry amusement. “We are.”

Cassian groaned again, turning to leave, but before he could exit, Azriel called out in a mock-serious tone, “Careful on those steps outside, Cassian. Wouldn’t want you to take another tumble.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, and Cassian’s voice came faintly from the hallway as he shouted, “I hate you all!”

You turned to Azriel, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “We really are insufferable.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But only with you.”

You sighed happily, snuggling deeper into his side. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

“Lucky for me,” Azriel murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I love it too.”

And so the teasing, the laughter, and the warmth of the afternoon continued, the bond between you and Azriel only deepening as you basked in the shared joy of simply being together—with the added bonus of getting to torment Cassian along the way.

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

part 5 of 12

Synopsis: Morning confrontations bring afternoon coffee showers? Dealing with the aftermath of the bonfire

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

Warnings: luke being a shitty dad

masterlist

----

The morning sun filtered through the wide-open windows of the Chateau, casting lazy golden beams over the worn but welcoming space. Y/N had woken up early, unable to sleep much after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was distant but soothing, a sharp contrast to the unease she still felt in the pit of her stomach.

She had wandered into the living room of the Chateau, the place the Pogues often gathered, now quiet after the chaos of the bonfire. The remnants of last night's party—the beer cans, half-empty bottles, and scattered towels—were strewn across the floor, evidence of the good times they’d shared. But the joy from last night felt distant now.

Y/N settled into one of the couches, looking out at the ocean. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the soft creak of footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Kiara walking in, wearing her usual calm expression, though Y/N could tell her friend had already sensed something was off.

“Hey,” Kiara said gently, taking a seat beside Y/N. She looked out at the water, then back at her. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to start. She had been so caught up in her emotions last night, trying to laugh it off, but now, in the quiet aftermath, the weight of it all was harder to ignore. She bit her lip, looking down at her hands.

“I just… I don’t know,” Y/N started, her voice quieter than she intended. “Last night, the way they all were talking… I mean, it’s nothing new, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Kiara’s expression softened. “The jokes about you not hooking up with anyone?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. It’s like, they don’t see me as a girl at all. Just one of the guys. And I know I’ve always been… the bookworm, or whatever, but it’s different now. I don’t know why, but it just hurt last night. I wanted to be seen, you know? I’m not just ‘one of you.’”

Kiara let out a sigh, clearly understanding the struggle Y/N was dealing with. “You’ve always been one of us, Y/N. The Pogues, we’re a family. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated like more than just the ‘girl version’ of one of the guys. You’re allowed to feel that way.”

Y/N turned to Kiara, her eyes searching for reassurance. “But why does it feel like I’m always in the background? Like no one really notices me for who I am, just… who I’ve always been to them.”

Kiara gave her a small, knowing smile. “Because it’s easier to see you as the bookworm, the one who’s always steady and reliable. It’s easier than admitting that you might want something more. But you deserve that, Y/N. More than anyone else.”

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door to JJ's honorary bedroom opened, and JJ walked in, his hair still messy from the night before, his signature carefree grin on his face. He paused for a moment when he saw them, then sauntered over to the couch, plopping down beside Kiara with a playful look.

“Good morning, ladies,” JJ said, his voice light and teasing. “I see we survived the bonfire chaos.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You look like you survived a tornado.”

JJ chuckled. “The waves were rough last night. But I made it through, don’t worry.”

Y/N couldn’t help but give a small laugh, but the knot in her stomach tightened again when she remembered the night before. She glanced at him briefly, her heart still doing that strange flutter whenever she saw him, even though she’d tried to shake off her feelings for him.

“Did you have fun last night?” Kiara asked, her voice casual, but Y/N could sense there was a little more to it.

JJ grinned. “Yeah, met a tourist. She’s cool. Gonna show her around today.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a sudden pang of jealousy that she couldn’t ignore. Of course, JJ would find someone else to hang out with. He always did.

She didn’t say anything, though. Instead, she glanced out the window again, her mind racing. As if on cue, the door to the spare room opened, and a girl Y/N didn’t recognize stepped out. She was smiling, stretching as she made her way toward the kitchen, clearly in no rush to leave.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed instinctively. That was the tourist. The one JJ had been flirting with last night. She felt her chest tighten as the reality of her situation hit her harder than before.

Kiara must have noticed the change in Y/N’s expression because she shot a quick glance between her and JJ. “Everything okay?” she asked softly, but there was an underlying understanding in her voice.

Y/N didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she just nodded, trying to hold back the hurt and confusion she was feeling. JJ was already looking toward the door where the girl had gone, clearly not noticing the subtle shift in Y/N’s mood.

But then, he turned to her and noticed her distant expression. He gave her a questioning look, and for a moment, their eyes met. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do with the way his gaze lingered on her—whether it was concern or curiosity—but it only made her feel even more unsure of where she stood.

The awkward silence was broken when Kiara spoke up again, her voice a little firmer than before. “You should talk to him, Y/N. If there’s something you need to say, now’s as good a time as any.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. The words Kiara had just spoken hung in the air, and she felt a surge of emotion bubbling up inside her. She didn’t know what had changed in her since last night, but it was like something inside her had cracked open—something she had kept buried for a long time.

She glanced at Kiara, whose expression was a mix of concern and encouragement. It was like Kiara could see right through her, and in that moment, Y/N realized she didn’t have the luxury of keeping things in anymore. She had to say something. She couldn’t keep playing along like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stood up, the muscles in her legs tense. She turned to JJ, who was still lounging on the couch, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in the room. She had to get this out, had to make him see.

“JJ,” she started, her voice shaky but determined. “Can we talk?”

He looked up, his grin faltering slightly as he met her eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Outside. Now” Y/N and JJ made their way out to the hammock. Taking a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “What the hell, JJ?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, her frustration and hurt now spilling over.

JJ blinked, clearly taken aback by her tone. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you act like you’re in love with Kiara, but you’ll hook up with anyone who’s not her.” The words were sharper than she meant, but she couldn’t stop them. “It’s like you get to keep her on this pedestal and pretend that she’s the one, but you don’t treat her like that. You treat her like… like she’s just another girl to play with.”

JJ, who had been about to make a joke, suddenly went silent. He straightened up on the couch, his expression turning more serious, but Y/N didn’t let up.

“I’m sick of it,” Y/N continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I’m sick of being the ‘good girl,’ the one you all forget is… well, a girl. You make these jokes about me, like I don’t care. But I do. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this—acting like you’re so into Kiara when you’re out there with anyone else who shows up. What about her? What about me?” Her breath hitched, the words coming out in a rush.

JJ’s expression shifted from confusion to defensiveness. He leaned forward slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Look, Y/N, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t,” Y/N cut him off, her voice rising. “I’m not asking for an apology, I’m asking for you to think for once. Maybe stop acting like you don’t have feelings for Kiara when you clearly do. And maybe, just maybe, think about how I feel when I see you with someone else, acting like I’m just… background noise.”

There was a heavy pause. JJ’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something—anything—to try and fix it. But then he stood up quickly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he pushed past her toward the door.

“Look, I’m just trying to have a good time. Maybe you’re overthinking this,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of the conversation.

Y/N’s heart sank. It was like he didn’t even understand what she was saying, like he was so caught up in his own world that he couldn’t even recognize the hurt in hers.

Without another word, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed off, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to be in this space anymore. Didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

As she made her way back to the house, JJ called after her, but Y/N didn’t stop. She needed air. She needed to get away from all of this for a moment.

The front door swung open just as she stepped onto the porch, and she stopped, breathless, seeing the girl from the night before leaving the kitchen with a carefree smile. JJ’s tourist. Y/N felt a bitter sting in her chest as the girl waved goodbye to him before heading out, not even sparing a glance at Y/N.

The jealousy coursed through her, but it was more than that—it was the feeling of being unseen, of not being enough. And in that moment, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

—

Later, Y/N started her shift down at the country club. The rhythmic clinking of glasses and soft hum of the lunch rush kept Y/N focused, the kind of steady routine she needed to distract herself after everything that had gone down last night and this morning. Cleaning the bar, wiping down counters—anything to keep her mind from wandering back to the bonfire and the sting of the Pogues’ comments.

But just as she was about to grab a fresh cloth to wipe the countertop, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Rafe Cameron.

Her eyes widened slightly. Rafe was looking like he’d just had the worst day of his life—frazzled, hair a little more messed up than usual, and his eyes wide with some mix of panic and annoyance.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice was a little too loud for the low-key atmosphere of the club, and he made a beeline for the bar. “I need your help. Like, right now.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, trying to hide her grin. “Cameron, here? What’s up? Your dad cut you off already?”

He shot her a look that was somewhere between exasperation and helplessness. “I wish. No, listen, my dad invited me to sit in on some huge business meeting today, right? It’s a big deal, but I—” he glanced down at his pants and then back up at her, “—I spilled coffee all over my pants. It’s bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Y/N couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the image of the Kook prince—immaculate and untouchable—standing there with a coffee stain on his fancy pants was just too much. “You spilled coffee on your pants? Really?”

Rafe scowled, clearly embarrassed but too proud to admit just how serious he was about the whole situation. “This is a huge deal, alright? I’m meeting with some important people, and I can’t go in looking like this. I need help, please.”

Still trying to stifle her giggles, Y/N nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. But you owe me one.” She grabbed a towel and motioned for him to follow her. “Come on, we’re going to the bathroom. We’ll try to clean them up. Don’t get too hopeful.”

“Anything,” Rafe muttered, following her through the back of the club.

The bathroom was quiet, and Y/N could already feel the light tension between them as they stepped inside. She motioned for him to wait by one of the stalls. “Alright, take a seat in there. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Rafe shot her a doubtful look but did as she said, squeezing himself into the stall. Y/N was left with his coffee-stained pants, feeling both amused and slightly sorry for him. The stain was big, but not impossible to fix with some elbow grease.

As she worked on scrubbing the stain out, the silence between them stretched on, and after a while, Y/N broke it with a quiet sigh. “You know, I took your advice last night,” she began, her tone soft, almost uncertain. “The whole ‘don’t hold back’ thing. But… it kind of bombed.”

Rafe’s voice came from the stall, more serious than she expected. “What do you mean? I thought it was good advice.”

Y/N shook her head, her hands still moving over the fabric. “I mean, I told them exactly what I was thinking, and it didn’t go over well. They just made fun of me more. I thought maybe it would feel good to get everything off my chest, but instead, it just made things worse.”

There was a long pause before Rafe finally spoke, his tone softer than she had ever heard it. “I’m sorry. I was drunk, and honestly, I didn’t really think through what I was saying. I guess it’s not as easy as just throwing everything out there without consequences.” He let out a small, almost rueful laugh. “I wasn’t really thinking, was I?”

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling the weight of her own frustrations lift just a little. “No, you weren’t. But it did feel good to be honest, even if the timing was… well, off.” She looked at him over her shoulder, finding him still in the stall, his face partially visible, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“You know, I never really thought about it that way,” Rafe admitted, his voice quieter. “Like, yeah, I’m always the one telling people to do whatever the hell they want. But sometimes you gotta be careful what you say. Especially when it’s about people who matter.”

Y/N felt a flicker of understanding between them—something unspoken but real. “Yeah, I get that.”

She finished cleaning the pants, carefully checking to make sure the stain was almost gone. “Alright, I think we’re good. You might still look like you’re working overtime at a coffee shop, but it’s better than it was.”

Rafe finally emerged from the stall, straightening up and looking down at his pants. He sighed in relief. “You saved me. I owe you one, big time.”

Y/N shrugged, brushing her hands off and turning to face him. “Don’t worry about it. Just—next time, maybe don’t go around giving relationship advice while drunk.” She grinned, teasing him.

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But seriously, thanks. I didn’t think you’d even care to help me with this.”

Y/N smiled back at him, feeling lighter than she had in days. “What are friends for, Rafe?”

—

The evening sun was beginning to fade, casting an orange glow over the island, but Y/N’s shift at the country club wasn’t over just yet. The events of the day had played out in such a whirlwind—Rafe’s unexpected visit, the heart-to-heart they’d shared, and the awkward tension that still lingered between Y/N and the Pogues. It was a strange mix of emotions she couldn’t quite shake off.

She wiped down the bar one last time, scanning the room. The club was quieter now, the steady flow of people dying down as dinner hour approached. She could already feel the exhaustion setting in after an emotionally charged day, but it wasn’t over yet.

The phone behind the counter rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She answered it quickly, as she always did in the quiet moments.

“Hello?” she asked, her tone soft from the fatigue she’d been carrying all day.

“Y/N?”

Her heart skipped at the familiar voice. It was JJ, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach tighten.

“JJ? Everything okay?” she asked, glancing around the bar to make sure no one needed her attention.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice shaky and strained, like he’d been holding something in for far too long. “My dad… he—he had another outburst. And it was bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Her chest tightened as she set the rag down on the counter. “JJ… are you alright?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then a sharp, almost hollow laugh. “I’m fine, I guess. Just… it’s the same shit, you know? But this time, I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Y/N’s heart ached for him, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. She had seen him at his worst, but she knew how much it meant when he opened up like this.

“I’ll be there in a few,” she said without hesitation. “Just… stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

“Thanks,” JJ muttered, the relief in his voice barely audible. “I knew I could count on you.”

The line went dead, and Y/N immediately grabbed her bag, rushing to clock out. She wasn’t about to let him go through this alone, not after everything he’d confided in her before. Even if she didn’t know what to say to fix it, she’d be there.

When Y/N arrived at JJ’s house, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. The atmosphere felt different, heavier, as she stood at the front door, glancing at the dim lights flickering through the windows. There was no sign of movement from inside, but she knew he was there. He had to be.

She knocked softly on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet of the evening. The door creaked open, and there stood JJ, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her in. The silence that followed spoke volumes—no words needed to be exchanged, as Y/N understood exactly how he was feeling. She had seen this before, the way his father’s outbursts left him fragile and raw. She just didn’t know how much longer he could keep holding it all together.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked, glancing around.

“Out,” JJ muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He left after… after everything. I don’t even know where he went. Doesn’t matter.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that he was just trying to hold himself together. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, JJ.”

He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, then back up at her, his eyes searching hers. “I know. I just… I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied quietly. “We’ve been through too much for me to walk away now.”

JJ let out a shaky breath, then nodded, his eyes lingering on hers for a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t even know how to thank you for always being here. You… you’re the only one who gets it.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She had always been there for him, but sometimes, it felt like she was the one who needed to be saved. She gave him a small smile. “It’s not about thanks. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been through enough today.”

JJ didn’t argue. He simply nodded, allowing her to guide him toward the small couch where he’d likely been sitting alone, stewing over everything that had happened.

–

The air in JJ’s house was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Y/N had helped him clean up, patched up the immediate mess his father’s outburst had left on him, but the emotional damage was still raw. JJ, sitting on the worn-out couch, looked every bit like a kid who’d seen too much too soon. His shoulders were slumped, his face shadowed by exhaustion, but Y/N knew better than to push him. They’d both been through enough for one day.

She sat down beside him, the room quiet except for the occasional hum of the old fan in the corner. No words were needed right now; sometimes, silence was the best comfort. They didn’t have to say much to understand each other.

Y/N glanced over at him, her voice gentle when she finally broke the silence. “You know, when we were kids, I never imagined things would turn out this way.”

JJ shifted slightly, his eyes downcast. “Yeah, me neither,” he muttered. “But I guess the world doesn’t give a shit about what we imagined, huh?”

Y/N let out a quiet, sad laugh, knowing that was the bitter truth. “Nope. We get what we get, and we have to figure out how to make it work.”

They both sat in the quiet for a moment longer, the weight of everything they’d been through growing heavier. She’d known JJ for so long, seen him go through so much, but tonight it felt different. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, something raw and unspoken.

“Did you ever think about leaving?” Y/N asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air before she could stop herself.

JJ met her eyes then, his expression guarded. “I think about it all the time. But I know I’d never make it far. It’s just easier to stay and pretend like it’s all fine.”

Y/N nodded, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She’d always admired JJ’s ability to keep going, even when everything seemed to be falling apart around him. But she knew, like he did, that sometimes the hardest part was pretending it didn’t hurt.

“I’ve thought about leaving too,” she said quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap. “Not for the same reasons, but… sometimes I wonder if there’s more out there for me than this island. Than everything that’s tied to it.”

JJ’s lips twitched upward in the smallest smile. “You’re one of the only ones I know who can get away from this place, Y/N. You could actually make something of yourself, get outta here.”

Y/N chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe. But every time I think about leaving, I remember that everything I want is right here. Even if it’s all a mess.”

“You really think that?” JJ asked, leaning back slightly, a new kind of curiosity in his voice.

Y/N met his gaze, her tone steady. “Yeah. I think I’ve spent so much time thinking about leaving, I forgot what it means to stay. To fight for something that matters. Even if it's messed up and broken, at least it’s real.”

JJ looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softer than they had been all night. “I get that. I think… Maybe I just don’t know what it means to stay. Not with how things are.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the words. She’d known about Luke’s temper, the violence that simmered beneath the surface of the man JJ had called father for so long. But she was the only one who knew how bad it really got. The others saw the bruises, the scars, the broken things, but they didn’t know how much of it was a product of a man who couldn’t control his rage.

She sighed, her voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, JJ. I’m here. You know that, right?”

JJ glanced at her, the walls he’d built up over the years starting to crack. He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just nodded, as if the weight of everything was finally getting to him. He let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, though the ache in her chest didn’t fade. She knew she was the only one who truly understood what he was going through. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept her coming back—being the one person who could hold the pieces together, even when everything seemed to fall apart.

JJ shifted slightly, his tone quieter now. “You ever wish you could’ve had a different childhood? A different family?”

Y/N let the question sit for a moment, knowing it wasn’t easy to admit. She leaned back against the couch, thinking back to her own complicated relationship with her parents. It wasn’t as bad as his, but it had never been simple either. They’d always been distant, more focused on their own lives than on her. She shrugged, her voice soft.

“I think about it sometimes. I wonder if things would’ve been different if they’d been different. But then I remember… you and me, and the way we survived this island. Maybe that’s all we need. To survive.”

JJ let out a dry laugh, the humor in his voice soft and weary. “Yeah. We’re good at surviving.”

The silence stretched between them, and Y/N realized they were both carrying the weight of things they couldn’t change. But at least they had each other. At least they had someone who understood. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

As the night grew darker, Y/N felt the weight of her eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the day, from everything, creeping in. It had been a hard day, a hard week, but for now, in the quiet of JJ’s house, with him by her side, it felt like they were just two kids again—no worries, no pain, just the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ whispered into the stillness, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah?” she murmured, her eyes already half-shut.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N’s lips twitched into a sleepy smile, her voice soft as she responded, “Same, JJ. Same.”

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

Before fully drifting off, Y/N thought to herself, Once we graduate... we’re leaving. Together. No more broken families, no more staying behind. And with that, they both let the quiet of the night pull them under, dreaming of the future they would build away from the island and all that had hurt them.

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

---

Next up: a return to how it was, more or less

-----

Taglist:

@hockeybabe87

----

A/N: last one for night.. wish me luck for my presentation in the morning!!!!

[chrissturnsw1fe]

SWEETDREAMS

Chris Sturniolo

Warning: none just swearing and pure fluff

Summary: Chris and been a dick to you all day until you finally snap at him and he comes back later to apologise.

Chris had been in a mood since this morning he’s been dry and making you feel like shit all day. You guys have been together for a couple of months now and never had an argument. He’s currently out filming a car video with Nick and Matt hopefully he comes back in a better mood.

He’s been gone around an hour so you decided to message him to just see when he was going to be back home.

* message *

Do you know what time you’ll be home around?

Idk.

okay baby see you soon ❤️

yh 👍🏼

* end of message *

“I wonder what’s pissing him off” you speak to yourself. you wanted to pass time so you decide to clean up and do the dishes and have a shower , once your changed in your pjs you walk down the stairs and hear the front door open to see a very grumpy looking Chris walk in.

“hey baby” you smile at him

He ignores you and walks over to the fridge , wow that was rude you thought to yourself. You walk over to him

“Are you okay you seem angry about something”

“Omg can you get off my dick” he replied aggressively

You was so confused on why he was being like this it was starting to get on your nerves a lot. You was reminding yourself over and over again to not get angry.

“Gosh what’s a matter with you grumpy pants”

You let out a sarcastic comment he should know your joking until his flips on you out of no where,

“God just fuck off you annoying little bitch your always here like just go away and get out of my face”

That drew the line for you and you snapped back,

“You know what Chris I’ve done nothing but help you I clean the house for you because your lazy ass doesn’t. Yeah you go out and film with your brothers of course I’m gonna be clingy I barely see you anymore so fuck you too bro”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes but refuse to let me drop.

“Bro are you for real you seriously just called me bro”

“Yes I did now you take that Pepsi and shove it straight up your fucking ass see if that knocks some sense into you , you rude bitch boy”

You storm upstairs into the bedroom and slam the door shut and just start crying you don’t know what to do, one part of you feels bad , you’ve never snapped at Chris like that before, no you decided your gonna wait for him to apologise.

You go in the shower to release some stress off your back , you brush your teeth and get into your pjs to put a movie on and hopefully Chris would’ve decided to say sorry by then.

It’s been about 2 hours since the argument, you feel your eyes drifting off to sleep you check the time on your phone, it’s 11:32pm, you switched the tv off and nodded away to sleep.

Time skip (Chris’ pov)

I felt so bad for snapping at y/n like that I shouldn’t have said what I did, I check my phone and it’s 2am I choose to have a shower and do the the right thing.

After my shower I walk into the bedroom and see y/n sleeping, I walk over and get into bed,

“Hey baby you up”

She hums in the sleep

“I’m really sorry you was right I promise I’ll be better and I was just having a bad day I didn’t mean to snap at you the way I did please forgive me”

“It’s okay we all have bad days I understand just don’t take them out on me you know you can talk to me about it” she smiles at me

“I will thank you for always being here for me and also never call me bro again I did not like that” I laugh a little

She giggles at me “I won’t but let’s talk in the morning I’m tired”

I nod at her and bring her into my chest

“I love you”

“I love you more”

I smile and kiss her forehead as she drifts back off to sleep. Wow it feels like a weight has been taken off my back.

“Sweet dreams”

A/n: I hope you liked this it was my first fluff I’m open to any requests if you want some dm me.

[itendtothinkalot]

daddy's girl! (enemies to lovers)

summary: beomgyu's teasing is getting out of hand, and you're constantly left wondering what you did to deserve it. does he hate you? and if he does, why don't you hate him? your major crush on him certainly doesn't help. when he's teasing you, all you can do is stare at him, wondering if he’d ever like you back.

genre: FLUFFFFFF

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 9668

warnings: none!!!

You’ve always considered Beomgyu the single biggest annoyance in your office. He’s the type who breezes into work with a cocky grin, always a little too casual, always quick with a teasing comment that seems specifically designed to get under your skin.

You’ve somehow managed to ignore him for your first few months in the company, but recently over the year, he’s been… everywhere. Offering to help with projects he has no reason to be near, popping into your workspace with coffee, even catching your eye during meetings. 

And the worst part? Lately, instead of just being annoyed, you’ve started noticing things: the way his laughter lights up the room, or how he remembers your favorite coffee order, including yours. It’s maddening, and the more you try to brush it off, the harder it is to ignore that twist in your stomach whenever he’s around.

And...you hated every bit of it, you think. Every time he’d tease you—calling you “princess” when you were stressed, smirking when he made you flustered—it was like he was actively trying to get a rise out of you. And it worked. Every. Single. Time. 

“Boo.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it made you jump so hard that your coffee slipped right out of your hand, splattering across your dress in a warm, sticky mess. You whipped around, finding Beomgyu standing there, barely holding back a laugh as he took in the damage he’d caused. 

“Beomgyu,” you gritted out, grabbing a paper towel in a futile attempt to dab at the stain. “Do you enjoy terrorizing your coworkers, or am I just special?”

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you with an amused tilt of his head. “I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for you.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of his gaze lingering on you as you tried to clean up. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, hoping he couldn’t see the faint pink on your cheeks.

He shrugged, a slow, lazy smile creeping onto his face. “You know you’d miss me if I didn’t keep things interesting.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you shot him your best death glare, then turned sharply on your heel, whipping your ponytail right in his face. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you heard him stifle a surprised cough behind you.

“Mm, raspberry,” he said suddenly, taking an exaggerated whiff. “Nice shampoo choice.”

You spun back around, crossing your arms and giving him a look that could curdle milk. “Dude!” you snapped, appalled—and maybe a little flustered. “People are staring.” You shot a glance at a few of your coworkers, who were desperately stifling their laughter.

Everyone in the office was all too familiar with the occasional “spat” between you and Beomgyu. For some reason, the two of you bickering like an old married couple had become prime entertainment around here.

He laughed, completely unbothered. “They’re just enjoying the show.” His grin didn’t waver as he looked at your coffee-stained dress with obvious amusement.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” you muttered, pushing him aside as you made a swift exit out of the pantry. “Not after you’ve essentially soaked me from head to toe with coffee.”

“Okay, okay.” He jogged up beside you, catching your arm just as you were about to storm off. Your eyes dropped to his hand on your arm, a spark of warmth rushing up to your cheeks. You’d blame it on surprise, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart picked up speed at the contact.

Beomgyu seemed to notice, too, because he let go almost immediately, a flicker of something in his expression—guilt? Amusement? You couldn’t quite tell. He recovered quickly, though, shooting you an apologetic smile that, annoyingly, looked almost… genuine.

“C’mon,” he said, voice softer than before. “I have an extra shirt at my desk. It’s clean, I promise.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed, even though you were already considering it. “And why exactly would I want to wear your shirt?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirk slipping back into place. “Because…you either wear my shirt or walk around smelling like a coffee spill all day.” His eyes glinted with a challenge.

Your glare returned, but this time, you hesitated, the discomfort of your soaked clothes settling in. With a huff, you crossed your arms. “Fine,” you relented, narrowing your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you were standing in the bathroom, staring at the shirt Beomgyu had handed you. You sighed, the absurdity of the situation slowly sinking in. There was no way you were going to wear this. You could practically feel your dignity slipping away with every second you stood there.

“Doing good in there?” Beomgyu’s voice floated in from the other side of the door, his tone teasing.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you called out, your voice dripping with disbelief. “I am not wearing this.”

From the other side, you could hear his laughter, muffled but still unmistakably filled with overconfidence. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

With a sigh, you stepped out of the bathroom, already bracing yourself for the inevitable ridicule. The moment you emerged, you looked up to see Beomgyu standing there, absolutely dying of laughter. His eyes formed perfect crescents, his whole face lit up in a way that made your heart beat faster than it did before.

It was a bright, obnoxious shade of pink, with Beomgyu’s face cartoonishly plastered on the front, a goofy grin matching the bold words scrawled across it: “Daddy’s Girl.”

Beomgyu was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely stand. "Oh my god," he gasped between breaths. "You look—" He paused, wiping tears from his eyes. "You look adorable."

You stood there, face flushed with embarrassment, glaring at him. “Why do you even have this damn shirt?”

His laughter slowly died down, but that infuriating grin of his remained. “It was a gift from Soobin,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just never expected to see it on you. However, I do have to say…” He trailed off, his grin widening as he stepped a little closer.

“What?” You didn’t want to ask, but it was already too late.

“Well, you pull it off better than I expected. Almost like you actually are Daddy’s Girl.” His voice dropped a little as he teased the last part, his tone playful and teasing. He inched closer to you, his presence suddenly a little too close for comfort.

“Y-you’re... an asshole,” you stammered, pushing him in his chest with more force than necessary.

You walked away, but you could still hear his laughter echoing behind you, completely unbothered that he had essentially broken down all your walls.

Your cheeks were burning, but as much as you wanted to keep the little pride you had left, you couldn’t help but suppress a grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. Beomgyu might be the last person you'd ever want to give the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, but there you were, cheeks red, heart racing, and trying to hide the smile that was slowly creeping across your face.

You could hear him still chuckling in the distance, and, despite your best efforts, a part of you almost hated how contagious his laughter was.

–

The whole office seemed to be buzzing with energy as everyone gathered for the afternoon meeting. You tried to act normal, to slip into the routine of things, but the moment you walked into the conference room, you felt it—the eyes. The teasing smiles. The laughter that seemed to linger just behind every glance directed your way.

You walked to your usual spot, only to have Soobin glance over at you with a mischievous grin. "So," he started, his tone light but laced with something that made you instantly uneasy, "How does it feel to be Daddy’s Girl?" His words were casual, but there was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Your face immediately flushed, and you could already feel the heat creeping up your neck. "What? No! That's not—" You stammered, but your words faltered, and before you could regain your composure, Yeonjun jumped in.

“Oh my God,” he teased, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Didn’t expect the whole ‘Daddy’s Girl’ look to work for you, but Beomgyu definitely has good taste. You make that shirt look way better than he does.”

“Seriously? He spilled coffee–” You attempted to explain, but quickly gave up, realizing no one was really listening, too busy giggling. “Beomgyu, aren’t you going to explain why I have to wear this?”

“Because you’re daddy’s girl?” He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment way too much

The entire table broke into laughter, with some of the interns joining in, adding their own playful remarks about how you and Beomgyu seemed to be “matching in more ways than one” and how “that shirt definitely tells a story.”

Trying to maintain some dignity, you crossed your arms and glared at Beomgyu, who had his usual half-smirk on his lips, though his eyes held a playful spark. “You really had to do this, didn’t you?” you muttered, barely able to mask the irritation creeping into your voice.

Beomgyu’s grin widened. "I didn’t know you’d look so cute in it," he teased, completely unbothered. "Guess I should have made you wear it sooner."

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

—

The next day at work, you walked into the office with a scowl, still trying to shake off the embarrassing memory from yesterday. You had barely managed to avoid Beomgyu for most of the morning, but as you rounded the corner to your desk, you found him standing there—leaning casually against your cubicle wall, as if he’d been waiting for you.

He looked up with that all-too-familiar grin, the same one that had made your cheeks flush the day before. "Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy’s Girl," he teased, his voice dripping with that playful tone you couldn't escape.

You groaned inwardly, trying to hide the heat rushing to your face. "You’re really not going to let that go, are you?"

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, still smiling like he was having the time of his life. "I mean, it’s a pretty good look on you," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You might want to consider keeping it as your new work uniform. Though, of course, you still look good in this little office siren look you’re going for.” He looked you up and down, making you feel suddenly self-conscious.

You couldn’t help but push his face away, trying to avoid his gaze, and quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. "You're impossible," you muttered under your breath, focusing on anything but him.

Beomgyu paused, his eyes back on you, "You look good," he said, this time a little more serious, like he meant what he was saying.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For a moment, the usual playful mischief was gone, and it was just him, staring at you with an intensity you hadn’t expected. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond, the tension in the air suddenly making you feel even more awkward.

"And you’re still annoying," you snapped, trying to regain control of the conversation, though your voice betrayed a hint of something softer beneath the words. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry if I took things a little too far yesterday,” he apologized.

You examined his face for any sign of mischief, but soon realized he was being sincere. You nodded, walking away.

—--

A few hours of working in silence passed, everyone was in their own little cubicle typing away with whatever they had to. 

Just as you were getting into the groove of things, you heard footsteps approaching. Soobin’s voice broke through the quiet office. "Hey," he greeted, leaning on your desk with a smile. "Where’s your Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly teasing about Beomgyu.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "My what?" you repeated, confused for a moment before you realized what he meant. "Oh, please, don’t encourage him," you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Soobin chuckled. "I mean, you are Daddy’s girl, aren’t you?" He laughed again, clearly enjoying your discomfort, making you glare at his way. "Anyway, wanna grab lunch? We haven’t done that in a while.”

“As long as you stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.

Soobin raised his hands defensively, smirking. “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“I just have like a couple more e-mails to sort out.”

“Got it. I’ll wait for you outside.”

You went back to typing, trying to wrap up your task quickly so Soobin wouldn’t have to wait too long. You were back to focusing, but just as you were picking up the pace, you felt hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Beomgyu,” you muttered without looking up from your screen.

Beomgyu’s voice came in soft and teasing. “How’d you know it was me?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his hands away. “You’re the only one who bothers me when I’m trying to do work.”

He chuckled, sliding into the chair next to your desk. “Guess you just know me so well, huh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” you said, shaking your head as you finished up a few last details.

There was a minute of silence before you finally did look up at him. Beomgyu hated to admit how cute you looked when you looked up at him—your eyes meeting him with that slight furrow in your brow, your hair falling perfectly around your face. It took everything in him not to smile, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk.

“So what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished up a few last details.

“Lunch with daddy?” he replied with a casual grin, though his eyes held a glint of something that made your stomach flutter.

“Oh, I’ve already made plans with Soobin, dad” you said, not thinking much of it as you slipped your phone into your bag.

“Soobin?” Beomgyu’s voice hardened ever so slightly, but you didn’t catch the shift at first. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing just a touch.

You shrugged, focusing on gathering your things. “Yeah, just grabbing lunch. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Beomgyu’s smirk faltered for a second, his usual confidence slipping just enough for you to notice. But before you could react, he leaned back, his demeanor slipping into something more casual, though there was still that slight edge to his words. “Right. Of course. Soobin.”

You looked at him, slightly confused by his changed demeanor. “Okay?” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows.

Beomgyu didn’t immediately respond. He just leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he watched you. There was a tension in the air now, something unspoken, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. His eyes, which were usually so playful, were now unreadable, like he was deep in thought.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his tone back to its usual teasing edge, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy your lunch, I guess.”

—-

During lunch, your mind replayed the previous scene with Beomgyu one too many times. Why was he so pissy after you mentioned going to lunch with Soobin? Weren’t they good friends? Why was he being so dramatic? Crazy ass, you thought to yourself.

“Are you even listening?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mumbled, offering him an apologetic smile.

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been acting weird since we left for lunch. Did you even hear my harrowing story about how Beomgyu’s been acting up at home?”

Right, they’re roommates, you remembered, a pang of curiosity hitting you. “Wait, what did he do now?”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe it—he’s been sulking around the apartment lately, for reasons he won’t even explain. Just moody and snippy about everything.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m starting to think he’s hiding something.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Beomgyu’s strange mood earlier was connected. Trying to play it cool, you asked, “Does he, like…do that often?”

“Nope, which is why it’s weird. And this all seemed to start around…” Soobin paused, giving you a suspicious look, “…around the time you two started bickering at work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t blame this on me.”

Soobin laughed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I’m not saying anything,” he teased, though his smirk suggested otherwise. “Actually… there is one thing that might explain it.”

“What is it?” you asked, curiosity and a tinge of dread mixing in your voice.

“Well,” Soobin began, leaning in a little, “he was on the phone with one of our friends the other night, talking about some girl he’s into.”

Your heart did a little flip. A girl he’s into? Was it you?

“Yeah, someone from his yoga class,” Soobin added, watching you carefully.

Oh. Yoga class. You didn’t go to yoga. You felt a mix of relief and… something else you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

“Oh,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, though your disappointment was evident. “That’s… nice.”

Soobin tilted his head, amused. “You sound thrilled.”

“I am thrilled,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Glad he’s happy. Maybe then he’ll stop fucking with me.”

Soobin leaned back, watching your expression with that same knowing look. "Yeah, apparently she's, like, really flexible," he said, barely holding back a grin.

You forced a casual nod, hoping your face didn’t betray you. "Good for him, then."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“What?” You scoffed, trying to brush off the question, but your voice came out a bit too defensive. “Why would I be jealous?”

Soobin chuckled, leaning forward. "I mean, you guys do spend half your time arguing, and the other half looking at each other like... well, like something is going on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We’re just… coworkers. Besides, he’s obviously into some yoga girl I’ve never even met. Who’s apparently really flexible.”

"Uh-huh," Soobin said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t buying it. "Well, for what it’s worth," he added, "I don’t think he actually likes yoga that much."

“Oh, sure. I don’t actually care,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.

“Really,” you said, the words coming out a little too firmly—as if you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Soobin’s gaze dropped to your plate, and he chuckled softly. “Then why’ve you mashed your rice into porridge?”

You looked down, realizing your grip on the spoon was practically turning your knuckles white.

Your face heated with embarrassment, and you shot Soobin a glare. “You seem to be really enjoying this, Soobin. What happened to ‘I missed you, let’s catch up’? You’re practically using our only hour to tease me.”

Soobin laughed, leaning back in his chair with an innocent shrug. “Hey, I am catching up. I just happen to find your love life… fascinating.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to brush it off. “It’s not my love life.”

“Right. Just your very intense work rivalry,” he said, grinning. “But fine, I’ll ease up. For now.”

—

You sighed, glancing at the clock. Just one more hour, and you’d be free. It was Friday, and the idea of slipping into bed and sleeping through the night was the only thing keeping you going. Unlike your coworkers, who were always up for late-night drinks, you had a steadfast love for sleep.

Well, at least until…

“You coming tonight?”

Startled, you looked up to see Beomgyu leaning against your cubicle. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day, and somehow, he looked even better when he was a little worn out. You felt a pang of frustration at yourself for even noticing.

“Where?”

“The team’s going out for drinks,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t know. I was planning on just heading home,” you replied, trying to ignore the way he made it hard to focus on anything but him.

He tilted his head, a playful smile forming. “Come on, you’re always skipping out on these things. One night won’t hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “Right, because I’m sure you’re really hoping I’ll be there.”

“I was,” he paused, then corrected himself, “I am.” He looked at you seriously, as if making sure you knew he wasn’t joking or lying.

“I—I…” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Please?” He added, his tone softening, almost like a plea.

“Fine.”

—

The bar was buzzing with the chatter and laughter of your coworkers. The group had claimed about four or five tables, but you’d positioned yourself at the bar, seated on a stool. You weren’t sure why you even agreed to come—maybe it was Beomgyu’s pleading, or maybe the way his eyes softened when he asked you. Damn it, he could be so cute without even trying.

You stirred your drink, watching it swirl as your mind wandered. Every so often, you glanced over to where Beomgyu was standing, sandwiched between two tables. He was in his element, effortlessly drawing people in with that easy, curse that confident charm of his. His laughter filled the air as he joked with your colleagues, their faces lighting up at whatever he’d just said.

He had a way of making even the most mundane conversation feel like the most interesting thing in the room. His smile, his gestures, the way his eyes sparkled when he said something funny—it was like he could command the room without even trying. It was no wonder people were drawn to him, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as he shifted from one group to the next, always moving with such ease, always the center of attention. His effortless charm left a weird knot in your stomach, but also a strange flutter, something you didn’t quite know how to process.

Damn it, you thought again, taking another sip of your drink. You were making yourself dizzy just watching him.

“You’re going to catch flies with the way you’re staring at Beomgyu,” Soobin teased, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous grin. He placed a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up.

You sighed, trying to brush off the comment, swatting his hand away. “Soobin,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “If you’re just here to mock me about my stupid crush on Beomgyu—”

“Oh, so we’re admitting it’s a crush now?” Soobin interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“What? No! I—I… it slipped out,” you stuttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to recover.

Soobin leaned in, his grin widening as he pressed, “So you are admitting it—”

“I’m not admitting anything!” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively and giving him an exaggerated glare.

Soobin chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that," he said, giving you a wink before turning his attention back to the table, though his smile lingered as if he knew something you didn't.

You huffed, trying to push the thoughts of Beomgyu out of your mind. The alcohol wasn't helping; if anything, it was just making things feel more awkward. You shifted in your seat, glancing back toward Beomgyu. He was laughing with your coworkers, his hands animated as he told some story, effortlessly commanding their attention. It was almost maddening how easy he made it look, his charm radiating off him like it was second nature.

"Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?" Soobin’s voice brought you back to reality, and you looked at him, annoyed.

“I already told you, I don’t—" You stopped, realizing how defensive you sounded, how your heart was racing at the mere mention of Beomgyu’s name. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated at yourself.

"So, what's going on then?" Soobin asked, his tone suddenly softer, less teasing. "You can’t keep pretending you don’t care."

You looked away, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the edge of your glass. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

For a moment, Soobin didn’t say anything, just watched you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now, but don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter."

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Okay, what if I do…” you whispered, barely audible, eyes darting around nervously.

Soobin leaned in closer, eyebrows raised. “Come again?”

You sighed, feeling your face burn as you tried to keep your voice low, as if somehow that would protect you. “What if I do… have a tiny little bit… the tiniest bit… of a crush on him…” you whispered even softer, almost too quietly to hear.

Soobin leaned in further, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he mimicked your whisper. “I can’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing your embarrassment. “I said,” you shouted, louder than you intended, and immediately felt the weight of your coworkers' stares on you. You quickly smiled awkwardly at them before turning back to Soobin. “I said... what if I did have a tiny crush on him?”

Soobin burst into laughter, loud enough that it felt like the whole bar could hear it. His laughter, bright and unapologetic, drew even more stares from the surrounding tables. You felt your face flush even more.

“You know,” he said, catching his breath, “it’s about time you admitted it. You’ve been looking at him like that all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Right, because I didn’t just see you staring at him while he was telling that story about his yoga class.” Soobin grinned knowingly.

You groaned, sinking lower into your seat. “Can we drop it now?”

Soobin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, it’s obvious to everyone here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, finally calming down. “Trust me, you’ve got the ‘I’m-trying-to-hide-a-crush’ look written all over you.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling in defeat. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Soobin said with a grin. “If you’re embarrassed, then that means you care. And that’s actually kind of cute.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Soobin patted you on the back. “No problem, now go get your man.”

You snorted. “I’m not ‘getting my man’ anywhere besides isn’t he into this yoga girl you keep mentioning about?”

“First of all,” Soobin sighed. “I mentioned her once. Second, you're really gonna use her as an excuse now? I was just kidding. There wasn’t any “yoga girl”, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You lied?”

“For a good cause!” Soobin said, defensively.

“Look, I don’t even care. I mean... it’s not like he’s even looking my way,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to Soobin. “In fact, he hasn’t even talked to me all night.”

Soobin gave you a knowing look, the kind he always gave when he knew you were being a little dramatic. “You’re really gonna do this right now?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re letting one night ruin your mood?”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I mean, it's fine, really. I didn’t come here to be his entertainment plus free drinks!”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that, though, is it? You didn’t come here for him to entertain you, you came because you wanted to see him.”

“I did not come here…to see him.” You attempted to defend yourself. “I could be here to see you. You’re a pal.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Soobin rolled his eyes. 

You shot him a glare but it only made him laugh. He could always tell when you were hiding something, and right now, he was enjoying it a little too much.

“Fine, maybe I did want to see him,” you finally admitted, your voice softer than you wanted it to be. “But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—he told me to come, which I did but now he’s been avoiding me all night and talking to everyone but me.”

“Have you tried initiating the conversation first?” Soobin said. 

You stared at Soobin, momentarily taken aback by his insight. “I just… I’m not sure what to say anymore." 

"Say hi or something, in fact," Soobin said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. "You talk to him tonight, and... yeah, that’s it. Just talk to him. No ands ifs or buts."

"W-what? No! I can’t... I’m not ready! I’ve only had one shot of vodka. I’m not ready for this level of commitment—"

Soobin sighed in frustration. "Damn, you’re stronger than you look." He grunted, struggling to pull you up as you continued to thrash in your seat.

You dug your heels into the ground, still trying to resist as Soobin tugged at your arm. "No, seriously, Soobin! I'm not ready for this. What if I screw it up?" You felt the panic rising in your chest, your pulse quickening. The idea of talking to Beomgyu, of finally doing something about it, felt too overwhelming.

“And what’s going on over here?”

The two of you stopped your struggle, realizing it looked as though you were hugging, and quickly turned around, both of you frozen like deer caught in headlights.

“Beomgyu,” the two of you muttered in unison.

“You’re making quite the scene,” Beomgyu said. His tone was hard to place, but you would guess he was either slightly annoyed or, more likely, not at all amused.

“Sorry.” You glanced around, realizing no one was really paying attention to the two of you, which left you a bit confused, but you decided to ignore it.

“Soobin, Taehyun’s looking for you.” He pointed over to the table of interns.

“Taehyun’s here? Doesn’t he have…” Soobin gulped. “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

Soobin gave you one last glance, his smirk still lingering as he followed Beomgyu's direction. “Don’t think I forgot about this,” he teased, then strolled off toward the interns.

You let out a small breath of relief, now alone with Beomgyu. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable, though you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when Soobin had left.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Thanks for... saving me from Soobin.”

Beomgyu chuckled, his gaze softening slightly. “Not sure you’re saved when a bigger devil is here.” He smirked.

“Right,” You chuckled before turning your attention back to your drink.

"Care for a conversation?"

"Now?" You hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic.

Beomgyu looked at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes before replacing it with his usual smirk. "What’s wrong with a little conversation?"

"I just... don’t you have a whole parade to lead? Aren’t people waiting for the life of the party?"

“Well, the life of the party needs a break, and I was kind of looking for my own relief.” He glanced over at you.

“And?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Found her.” He locked eyes with you, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

You shifted awkwardly, trying to gauge his intent, but he kept his eyes on you, unfazed.

“So, this is where you take your breaks?” you asked.

Beomgyu’s smirk deepened. “Only when the company is worth it.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. You didn’t know how to respond right away, so you turned your attention back to your drink. The silence stretched on, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two.

“Oh, right!” You pulled out a small paper bag from your work bag. “Here.” You handed him the washed t-shirt he had lent you.

“You can keep it,” he said casually.

“And why would I want to keep a shirt with your face on it?” You rolled your eyes, holding the t-shirt up with mock disdain. 

Beomgyu chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Y’know…I always thought you were pretty, but I think wearing my face has made you ten times prettier than you already were.”

He leaned back, watching you closely, his smile softening into something more sincere. “I’m serious though. You look good in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly brushed it off, trying to maintain your playful composure. “Sure. But I think I’ll pass on wearing it as a permanent look.”

You glanced at your watch, it was still early. If you were home you’d probably be binging a drama. You shook your head. It was time to say goodnight. You didn’t feel like overstaying your welcome. 

“I’m gonna take off,” you muttered.

“What? So soon? It’s only 10,” Beomgyu said, sounding surprised.

You shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m wasting my Friday night being surrounded by drunk colleagues.

“Okay, then at least let me send you home,” he said, his tone softening.

“It’s totally fine! I can take the bus!”

“The bus? We can share a cab!” Beomgyu insisted.

“I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“And I won’t be until you let me take you home safely!” Beomgyu said, pouting ever so slightly, his lips curling downward. You stopped yourself from smiling at the sight of his pout.

“It’s really fine! If it makes you feel better, I’ll get Soobin to drive me back. I mean, he drove me here,” you replied, trying to brush off his concern with a casual shrug.

Beomgyu’s demeanor shifted immediately. His face tightened, and you noticed a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "Again with Soobin," he muttered, his voice a little sharper than before.

You glanced over at Beomgyu, seeing the almost imperceptible shift in his expression. He looked... frustrated, almost as if your mention of Soobin was a trigger. You weren’t sure why, but the change in him caught your attention. 

“Yeah, I mean, he drove–”

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” Beomgyu sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“Do you enjoy… torturing me?” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated by your sheer density.

“Are you drunk?”

He shook his head.

He pulled you aside, guiding you into a quiet corner of the bar. Now, there was no sign of your colleagues—just the two of you, standing by a plant. The sudden isolation made the air feel heavy.

“You’re torturing me,” he muttered, his voice low. “You actually hate me.”

You blinked in surprise, unsure if you had heard him right. 

“Hate you?” You frowned, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “Beomgyu, I don’t hate you.”

“You avoid me,” he sighed, frustration laced in his voice. “You’re always making jokes with everyone around you. Yeonjun, Soobin—dear God, you even make jokes with the new interns, Taehyun and Kai.”

You stood there frozen, caught off guard by the intensity of his rant.

“You laugh with everyone, you smile, you bat your eyelashes at Soobin, you touch Soobin’s arms, you go on one-on-one lunch dates with Soobin… You like Soobin.” His words came out in a rush, and each sentence hit harder than the last. “And you don’t feel a single thing for me.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his accusation, your stomach dropping. 

“I–”

“Why won’t you like me back?” Beomgyu repeated, his voice softer now, but still laced with an underlying pain. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that you weren’t sure how to give.

And it was… three seconds of silence before Beomgyu hurled onto your shoes.

You stared in disbelief, mouth agape, as the reality of what had just happened set in. The mixture of complete shock and disgust made you freeze for a moment, unable to process what had just unfolded.

“No liquor, my ass!” You screamed, stepping back in horror as you looked down at your shoes, now a disgusting shade of… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

Beomgyu collapsed onto the floor, his body crumpling like a ragdoll.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, hands thrown up in the air, unsure of what to do. You were stuck between wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all and wanting to strangle him for ruining your night—and your shoes.

Beomgyu’s head lolled to the side, eyes barely open as he slurred, “I... I didn’t mean for it to... to go like this. I just… I thought you’d—” He cut himself off with another groan, clearly too far gone to finish his sentence.

Your mind raced, torn between sympathy for his state and pure annoyance. You didn’t sign up for this. 

—

Soobin had driven the two of you back to your place. Beomgyu, half-conscious and heavily leaning against your shoulder, made no effort to support himself as you navigated him out of the car. 

You reached your front door and stopped, fumbling with the keys for a moment before Soobin broke the silence with a sigh. “You sure you don’t want him to just go home with me?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the concern in it, even if he tried to mask it with a teasing tone.

You shot him a tired glance as you finally unlocked the door. “Isn’t your mom visiting right now? You sure you want her to know this is the kind of roommate you have?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you nudged the door open with your foot, glancing at Beomgyu, who was mumbling nonsense under his breath.

“Yeah?” Soobin shrugged, clearly not thinking it through. “But, you know, I could always—”

“You sure you want your mom to see all this?” you interrupted, gesturing at the disaster that was Beomgyu, who looked like he might pass out any second.

Soobin blinked, his face faltering slightly as the reality of the situation hit him. “...You’re probably right,” he said with a chuckle that barely covered his embarrassment.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping despite everything. “Thanks for the ride,” you said, offering a strained smile before you turned your attention back to Beomgyu. “Alright, let’s get you inside.”

Beomgyu stumbled and flopped onto the couch as soon as you let him go, groaning dramatically, his head lolling to the side. His disheveled hair and the faint smell of alcohol coming off him was enough to make you feel a little queasy, but you refused to let him see how uncomfortable you were. Instead, you turned to Soobin, who lingered by the door, looking unsure about whether to stay or leave.

“Is there anything I can do?” Soobin asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You looked at Beomgyu again and sighed. “Just help me change him.” You half-smiled, trying to reassure Soobin despite feeling like a mess yourself. 

Soobin chuckled awkwardly. “You should probably get him some water or something.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, already moving toward the kitchen, your mind racing as you debated what to do next. You glanced back at Beomgyu, still sprawled out on the couch, looking like he had no care in the world. He was out of it, sure, but the way he had acted earlier still lingered in your thoughts, leaving a pit in your stomach.

Soobin finally left, his footsteps fading as the door clicked shut behind him. You were alone now with a drunk, insufferable Beomgyu, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever this night was about to throw at you next.

—

You were thankful Soobin stayed long enough to help change Beomgyu out of his puke-soaked clothes. It was an awkward scene, but you couldn’t exactly leave Beomgyu in his state. Soobin had managed to get him into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt before he left, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

As you walked back into the living room, you found Beomgyu still sprawled on the couch, his head resting awkwardly on the armrest. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep but uneven. Despite the mess he’d made, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him, hoping he’d wake up enough to drink it.

It’d been a few hours since the incident happened. You had just been sitting on your armchair, waiting for Beomgyu to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open a moment later, his vision blurry as he blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. When he saw you standing there, a faint, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re still here…” he mumbled..

“Of course,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the couch, keeping a safe distance. “You’re kinda at my house.”

Beomgyu let out a groan, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this…”

You sighed, watching him closely as he sat up, trying to get his bearings. “You didn’t drag me into anything, I just so happened to be standing right in front of you, waiting for my prince charming to puke on me.” You replied, trying to hide the slight irritation in your voice, but the frustration from the whole night was starting to seep through.

Beomgyu winced at your words, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “Yeah... that wasn’t my best moment.”

“No kidding.” You leaned back, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve never seen you this... well, out of it. What even happened tonight?”

“I don’t know. I think I just... lost it. All the stuff with you and Soobin, it’s been bugging me more than I want to admit. And, well, I guess it all came crashing down at the wrong time.”

“So… you remember what you said in the bar just now?” You asked, the tension in your voice barely masked by the casual question.

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he was trying to piece everything together. “I’m puke and black-out drunk. Not the kind to forget about the stupid shit I do when I’m drunk... kind of drunk.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to process what he was saying. "So you… were—are—jealous of Soobin?"

Beomgyu nodded slowly, his gaze avoiding yours as he seemed to wrestle with his own feelings. “Kind of. I guess. I don’t really know. But listen, he’s a great guy and clearly in better shape than me, so I… genuinely think the two of you would be great together.”

You blinked at him, trying to process the unexpected confession. "I don’t know… I kind of had my eyes on someone else, actually."

“It’s Yeonjun, isn’t it? It’s because he’s up there with that whole manager position and his weird party tricks… damn it, I should’ve picked up rollerblading when I had the chance.”

“No—not Yeonjun. He’s a little too intense for me,” you said, the memory of Yeonjun yelling at you for accidentally dropping a pack of Skittles down the garbage disposal flashing through your mind.

“Then who is it? Not Soobin, not Yeonjun—I’m gonna be so for real with you right now, we’re kind of your only options if you were into like hot people–”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I just… I’m curious to know who this guy is! Who’s this less attractive person I’m losing out to, y’know?”

“Well, he’s kinda cute to me.” 

Beomgyu sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also trying to mask it with a weak smile. “Okay, fine. I get it. You like someone else, and that’s cool. But you’re really killing me here with the suspense. Actually, you know what…maybe I don’t wanna know.” He sat up from the couch, shaking his head.

You were leaning against the wall opposite him, your arms crossed loosely over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Your eyes flicked to Beomgyu, watching him as he ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly wrestling with his own thoughts.

The way he shifted uncomfortably on the couch made you feel almost guilty for not speaking sooner, but you weren’t going to lie, you kind of enjoyed this little mental torture he was going through. 

Served him right for teasing you so much.

The truth was, you had been trying to avoid it, trying not to make things complicated especially with someone you weren’t even sure that liked you back. 

Come on. Dropping your coffee and making you wear the ugliest t-shirt? That didn’t really seem like someone who liked you.

“Look, y’know what, I’m fine. I’ll just go home,” Beomgyu sighed, standing up from the couch. “Thanks for taking care of me. I’m really sorry about the shoes. I’ll get you a new pair. I promise.” He ruffled his hair, clearly trying to hide the awkwardness with a forced smile, but you could tell he was feeling guilty.

“Beomgyu–”

“I’m good. Look, it stings. The girl I’ve been pining for, for about a year or so, doesn’t like me back. It’s cool. I’ll get over it. Not now, but soon enough. I just hope this guy—whoever the fuck he is—treats you well… but like, I hope he’s not that hot. I don’t think that’d be good for my self-esteem. But you also deserve the best so I hope he’s at least hot-ish…? I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m being really immature right now, aren’t I? This is not a good look on me,” Beomgyu rambled, his voice wavering slightly as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“Dude, you gotta let me talk.” You sighed, walking over to Beomgyu and gently pushing him back onto the couch. He blinked up at you, still looking a little frazzled, but his shoulders visibly relaxed when you didn’t back away.

“This guy…that I’m into–”

“Oh great. We’re still talking about this asshole.” 

“He’s really funny,” you spoke, your tone exasperated but softening.

“It’s that one tall dude from marketing, isn’t it?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not listening!” you yelled, cutting him off. Beomgyu gave you a sheepish, apologetic smile, slowly realizing that he was spiraling. You pulled his chin toward you, making sure he was looking at you. “He’s funny. He’s kind of an asshole, actually.”

“You’re into that?”

You shrugged, “And he’s really handsome.” You looked up at Beomgyu, giving him the sweetest smile, which made his heart leap.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You’re just gonna make me more hung up on you.” Beomgyu’s voice was softer now, the playful edge gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart race. 

You chuckled, “He’s also really cute. Didn’t peg him for the jealous type.”

“What?” He tilted his head, confused.

“He’s also really narcissistic. Has apparently zero alcohol tolerance,” you mumbled. “He also puked on my shoes.”

Beomgyu blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Wait, he puked in your shoes? And you’re still into him?” He let out a disbelieving laugh, though it was edged with a hint of nervousness. "And you think I'm the one who’s messed up?"

“Beomgyu, it’s you. How are you not getting it?”

“Oh.” 

Beomgyu’s gaze softened, the realization sinking in fully. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but he hesitated, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I’ve liked you for awhile now.” You continued, “I just thought you genuinely…disliked me. Or at least just enjoyed making my day miserable.”

“Miserable? Baby, I was entertaining you,” he said, his voice low, teasing but with an undeniable sincerity underneath.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling both amused and flustered. “Entertaining me? By making me spill coffee on myself and tricking me into wearing that ugly t-shirt?”

Beomgyu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well–” he started, clearly trying to defend himself but failing to keep his grin in check.

“How about two weeks ago when you took out the screws of my chair at work and I fell and hurt my ass?” You crossed your arms, a playful yet accusatory tone in your voice.

“To be fair, that was Soobin’s idea,” Beomgyu said quickly, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. He looked genuinely innocent for a split second before breaking into an even wider grin. “But I did help, so I guess I’m partially guilty.”

You scoffed, unable to suppress a smile despite yourself. “Partial guilt? You’re the mastermind behind most of it.”

"You don't get it!" Beomgyu sighed dramatically. "You're just so... adorable when you're mad! Your eyebrows furrow, your eyes widen, and when you pout... it's just... God, if you could see yourself the way I see you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "Adorable? Really? You think I'm adorable when I'm mad?"

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up. "Yes! You don’t get it! You’re like a firecracker. When you get all huffy and your cheeks puff up, it just... it drives me crazy." He looked almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's like the cutest thing ever."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprised both of you. "Am I just your daily work stress ball or something?”

"Yes!" Beomgyu replied instantly, his voice a little too eager. He leaned in slightly, his tone softening as if revealing a secret. "I swear, if you could see yourself, you'd understand. It’s like you’re all fierce and pissed off, but still so... you. And God, it's so easy to fall for."

You smiled shyly, “You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?” 

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you’d come to know all too well. "Maybe," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But I'm your weirdo. If you’ll take me."

He leaned in just a little closer, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, and for a brief moment, the air between you seemed to thicken. You felt your heart skip a beat, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but your voice came out softer than you intended. "I don't know if I’ll like that," you teased, though you couldn’t hide the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu chuckled, his expression softening into something more sincere. "You should. I swear, I’ve got the best intentions. Even if I do mess with you a little."

Your breath caught as his words hit you in a way you hadn't expected. He wasn’t just being playful anymore—there was something real behind his eyes.

"You’re... kind of sweet when you’re serious," you murmured, unable to stop yourself from feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

Beomgyu leaned back just slightly, his smile turning a little shy, like he hadn't meant to let that much of himself show. "Yeah, well... I mean it, you know?" he said quietly, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. "You make it hard not to feel this way." 

“You’re being ridiculous.” You puffed your cheeks.

“There! There it is!” Beomgyu shouted, jumping up and down on your couch in excitement like a little kid.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, your heart skipping a beat at how effortlessly cute he was. “You’re being insane!” you said, still smiling.

“I’m not!” Beomgyu responded dramatically, flailing his arms for emphasis. “How are you not seeing how cute you are?!” His voice was nearly exasperated, like he was trying to make you understand some grand truth about yourself.

“It’s probably how I see you!” you shot back, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips.

A moment of silence filled the room, the weight of what you had just said hanging in the air.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, his expression faltering as he processed your words. “That’s how you see me?” he asked, his voice softer, almost unsure.

You nodded, your gaze shifting as you tried to put your thoughts into words. “Yeah. You’re… well, close to perfect, as far as I can see.” You shrugged slightly. "The way you put your tongue at the side of your cheek and poke it when you're feeling smug after winning an argument with me... Maybe that's why I let you win sometimes. You look... sexy when you do that."

Beomgyu froze, his eyes locking with yours, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in his gaze. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin, that mischievous glint returning. “You think I’m sexy when I do that?” he asked, scooting closer, his hands coming to rest beside your thighs on the couch.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, suddenly self-conscious as you realized what you'd just admitted. But before you could retreat, Beomgyu leaned in a little, his face lighting up with that playful yet sincere spark. “Well, now that you’ve said it... I’m definitely not letting you off the hook,” he teased, his tone warm and a little more serious than before, making your heart skip a beat.

“What else do you like about me?” he asked, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips.

You blushed, feeling your heart race. “When you… when you make everyone laugh. You’re just so effortlessly you,” you said softly, your voice warming as you smiled shyly at him.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered your name. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “You’d see the most beautiful person in the world.”

You stayed silent, your heart pounding as his words settled in. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken feelings, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "And, would the most beautiful person in the world... let me kiss her?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the tension, the way everything seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with him. He was so close, and his expression was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

Slowly, you nodded, barely able to whisper, “Yeah... I think I would.”

His eyes lit up, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to disappear. Without wasting another second, Beomgyu gently cupped your face in his hands, leaning in until his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet at first, testing the waters, before deepening as you both relaxed into the moment.

Everything felt perfect. Well…until…

You pulled away, suddenly aware of the rules that had always been lurking in the back of your mind. “Wait. Doesn’t our company have a rule about dating?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his lips brushing yours one last time before he pulled back, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could quit tomorrow if it meant I could kiss you every day,” he sighed dramatically, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race.

Before you could say anything, Beomgyu pulled you gently but insistently closer, guiding you to sit on his lap. He leaned in again, his lips on yours.

“Beomgyu, I’m serious.” You mumbled between the kisses, your voice breathless but laced with uncertainty.

He only grinned wider, his hands lightly gripping your waist, “Rule, schmule,” he muttered dismissively, pushing you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. "We’ll figure it out. Besides, isn’t Taehyun like the boss’s son or something? We could bribe him."

“What?!” You gasped, pulling away from the kiss, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he muttered sheepishly, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes was unmistakable as he shrugged and pulled you back into the kiss.

“You did not just drop a big bomb like that!” You tried to protest, but your words were muffled by his lips.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Beomgyu murmured between kisses, his hands gently guiding your face to meet his again.

“But we have all night,” you teased, breathless but still managing a smirk.

He paused for a moment, his face a little too close to yours, his grin playful. “I’m listening…” he said, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, pushing him playfully away just enough to get a word in. “You’re also gross.”

Beomgyu’s expression faltered for just a second before he burst into laughter, his arms wrapping around you tighter as he pulled you back against him. “Gross? I thought you liked me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to stay mad. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, even as you found yourself leaning in again.

“Impossible to resist,” he corrected with a wink, his lips capturing yours once more, and this time, there was no pulling away.

[thestrangestthlng]

I deleted a post I had because BoBs found it and you know their brains can’t rub sticks together to make fire if their lives depend on it.

RIP Buck’s bisexuality.

This is 100% a statement about network TV’s erasure of queer representation or sanitation of it, ESPECIALLY when it concerns queer men. Queer men that don’t fit into the industry ‘mold’ of what queer men should look and act like.

Don’t come on my page with your bullshit gotcha about Hen and Karen. Yes, we know they’ve been there the whole time. WERE THE ONES THAT HAVE TO REMIND YOU ABOUT THAT. You chuckle fucks only care about them when it’s convenient because your argument is always followed up by “you only want to see white men kiss”. Keep your fetishizer ass off my blog. Especially when you want to comment “they’re obviously setting up Buddie”. No, they’re not.

Obviously he is always going to be bisexual. Bisexuality is valid regardless of who you do—or don’t—date. It’s valid if you never date at all.

HOWEVER. They couldnt even get him to say the word on screen. They’ve already sanitized it. Maddie made that joke about Abby turning men gay and the opportunity was RIGHT THERE for him to say “I’m not gay, I’m bisexual” or “she didn’t turn me gay, I’ve always been bisexual” or, just “I’m bisexual”. But no, they had him make a comment about kissing boys.

And you know another thing? 9-1-1 is lazy as hell writing their stories too. I rage quit in season one for a while with the cheating storyline. They half ass Hen’s storylines too. They’re probably even LAZIER with their writing with them. They rushed through Mara, like they didn’t already have the trauma of losing a child they were about to adopt just for three seconds later they almost lose Denny?(although, I will say, it was important for them to highlight that the goal for foster care is always reunification.)

People are allowed to be upset with the fumbles. There’s been some absolute heartbreaking comments from the GA about this. We can love the representation of Black queer women and still be upset for the fumble in such a groundbreaking representation they had. Two things can be true at the same time.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Are your requests open? If so, can you write for yandere Qin Shi Huang with an S/O who's very rebellious and lazy? It's okay if you don't want to 😭 I barely see any Qin Shi Huang fic here.

My requests are definitely open, just slowly getting through everything! But anyway. Yes, I absolutely can since I like Qin too. He’s actually quite the good boy AND he’s hot so golden. We’re an emperor/empress! Damn, I’m jealous!

Qin Shi Huang- My Deadweight

Qin Shi has expectations of you. Just because you’re the new powerful and influential emperor [/] empress of China via your unwanted marriage to him, doesn’t mean that you get to be so… immature and vile in front of his people and in front of Valhalla itself. He is aware that you’re not much of a fan of him but he’s giving you a luxurious life millions dream of without asking for so much from you

Is giving your love and loyalty and passion to him, in exchange for all this, so hard for you? He has learnt that it is clearly is…

He’s displeased, watching sharply and disgusted from behind his white mahogany red-centipede detailed blindfold as you relax on you and his velvety expensive bed whilst shooing off all the palace’s servants to give you privacy… he suspected better from you. Why are you behaving so childish?

Qin Shi genuinely believes that living like a powerful royalty of one of the World’s most mighty countries has gotten to your head and you believe you’re above everything, even the responsibilities and requirements you have as his Emperor [/] Empress. You’re stubbornly disregarding them all to laze around and rest about like a sloth…

The Chinese emperor is outraged you’re daring to behave like this. He spent so much time and resources into kidnapping you, obsessing over you, moving you from your designated living quarters built into the Valhalla to his magnificent palace, to marry you to him and fulfil his intense love for you. Become his and make you his permanently, even through this death battle tournament and here you are, dismissing it all for your own comfort

He won’t let this slide at all. He may love you deeply but he loves you more when you’re not being a disrespectful slacker… and he wants that person back. He’ll get you back, even if he has to use extreme measures

Qin Shi has zero limits on what he’ll do to make sure you’ve been modelled to the most perfect ruler to work together with him to maintain China, do you think he does? He is fully aware that you’ve missed up by being rebellious and selfish like this. And he doesn’t plan to let you stay this way, he needs you better for his beloved nation

Qin Shi’s around the corner of you and his shared suite of a bedroom, thinking. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s already quite strained any chance you’ll love him but then again, he’s providing you with the life of a royal. You’re not anywhere near related to a royal family but still, you’re gonna birth him a heir one day and you SHOULD love him for that

Especially for how amazing of a husband he is!

No other man can be a better husband for you so there is no reason you should be a lazy rebellious brat when you’re literally a King [/] Queen. Do not be so greedy, love. He’d let this go if it was only occasional but it’s not, you’re constantly rejecting everything to sleep all day. Pathetic

That is what his twisted lovesick mind tells him. That it’s your fault you’re behaving this way when it’s just your attitude. It’s just who you are, but to Qin Shi, it’s a purposeful stab to him as your husband. That you’re acting out, when you were so obedient and calm only a few days ago, to spite him…

He is just so unhappy… he really suspected better from you and he was hoping you’d stay that timid silent sweetheart from before. That is his favourite version of you, when you do everything for him— but he fails to realise you only behaved that way because you were terrified for your life but you long learned he’d never truly put his hands on you

Your rebellious nature is just apart of you but your laziness, whilst also somewhat natural, is kinda fulled by your depression since being forced in this situation after you had shown respect to Qin Shi passing by him one time in the many halls of Valhalla by helping direct him to the correct Lounge for Einherjar’s champions

Had lead to him stalking you, sending his servants to give you gifts, until it lead up to your kidnapping under the cover of midnight. All because he fell hard for your elegant and witty demeanour, the way you behave in public and he got addicted to it quickly. So much, he ignores Alvitr’s advice altogether

Qin Shi quickly bared a charming smile, he’s such a charismatic comforting figure as the King of Kings he is that he buries away all his inner rage and humiliation so expertly that he seems as if he’s had a absolutely wonderful day. He pretends to walk away from the wall hiding off the open golden-lined door of the bedroom before walking up to it, in order to trick you into thinking he wasn’t listening in

You look up bored and irritated from being so engaged in a fascinating book that you’ve gathered amongst the big nearby bookcase in this big beautiful artistic suite of a bedroom, meeting the hidden eyes of your forced husband. Your finger shining by the opulent gold and diamonds of your earring ring

Qin Shi, radiating elegance and strength effortlessly, strolls over to you with his loving smile. He may be furious at your rebellious lazy demeanour but he can’t help but soften up at how beautiful you are and his extensive possessive obsession flares up almost instantly. He makes it besides the silky thin blanketed clad bed before sitting down on it politely

Speaking up after admiring you openly for a few long seconds with you barely even responding as you’re quite use to him gawking you all the time like you’re the Mona Lisa within a deluxe gallery, he is internally planning on how to properly meld and form you into the correct ruler for his vast territory

His hand reaches over for yours, his middle and ring fingers sheathed in shining golden nailguards, which is slightly sharp so it kinda grazed against your silky soft skin as he grabs your hand in his much bulkier and veiny palm. Showing his love via the intimate connect, feeling your own cute golden dual nailguards on your index and middle fingers

Qin Shi hopes you give him a minute or two of your time to hear him out. He deserves your time as his husband whilst you couldn’t be more excited for him to leave you alone. You never wanted to be bombarded with the duties of being the secondary ruler of fucking China itself… you never asked for this and you know he does not care about your opinion at all. He only cares about himself!

His hand holding yours is uncomfortably tight as his clingy protectiveness is kicking in. He doesn’t want to lose you, he doesn’t want anybody looking at you. You’re his and only his

“Qīn'ài de… I’ve noticed that you’ve been rather unmotivated. Unmotivated to improve for the sake of our empire and I want to fix that issue. C’mon, up you get. Let’s go outside together, let’s talk”

[mistake-responsibility]

Boy quiet

Boy quiet

Boy quiet

Boy quiet

Boy

Boy you want sum hotdogs?

… Sure. If- if they’re not the straight pork kind. I can’t… can’t stand those.

And don’t call me boy.

(DEPICTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE UNDER THE CUT)

“ Stop crying boy, I haven’t even started.”

Jimmy hiccuped, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the floor. It was all his fault, always off in his head, but it was always so scary to be called into his parent’s room.

“ I said,” his dad grumbled, “ Stop crying, or I’ll give you something real to cry about.”

He tried his best to hold it in. He always hated crying. It made him feel messy, sloppy, ugly, unloved. But he was just a kid, so a sob slipped out anyways.

His father grabbed him by his hair and shoved him forward. His head hit the footrest of the bed, and for a second, everything was black. He came to again when his father hauled him back up to his feet and bent him over.

“ Twelve missing assignments. Are you fucking kidding me, James? TWELVE missing assignments, all of which are ZEROS in the grade book. Are you even GOING to school?”

“ iii’m- i’m sssorry-”

“NO, YOU’RE NOT.” A belt was swung right next to him. Jimmy jumped with a yelp, breaking into tears again. The wood was hit hard, he was likely going to be hit harder.

“ If you were REALLY sorry, you’d fucking DO something about it. But it’s OBVIOUS you don’t care. You just want to daydream all day, slack off because you’re lazy, and you’re going to fucking FAIL. Do you WANT to repeat a grade? Do you WANT to graduate highschool at 20, boy?”

Jimmy didn’t respond right away, so his father smacked the back of his head.

“ nno- noo, no, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

“ Quiet, boy. No the fuck you AREN’T. You would have done something.”

He had done something. It would have been twenty one missing assignments. But he lied. He cheated. He stole. He studied. He begged. He did everything he could to make sure it wasn’t twenty one. But it still wasn’t enough.

Jimmy’s shirt was pulled off, and he sniffled still. Going to bed would hurt tonight.

“ Twelve times, one for each assignment. And you get two more for every time you cry, got it?”

Hurriedly, he nodded. He needed to work on stopping himself from crying. He would never be hurt again if he just didn’t cry.

Until then, he was imperfect, sloppy, messy, ugly, unloved, and he sobbed.

He was hit far more than twelve times.

[luvv4j4ybe11]

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’

Gawddd, talie, I’ve missed your writing smmm 😩

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles. 

OHHH THIS IS WHAT I MF YEARNNN FORRRR!!

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean. 

I absolutely loveeee the way you write Jake bc you capture his character so well but you add a little extra depth to him that we didn’t get to see in the movies, whenever I read your Jake fics I’m never not giggling bc of how you write his dialogue

Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells. 

OH IM ON THE FUCKIN FLOORRRR

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

UGHHHH😩😩 I cannot do this rn im ovulating 💔

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

DAWHH!!!🥹

What I good ending after all the hot and heavy goodtness, mm😩! You never fail to serve the WHOLEEE MF TABLE with your fics!!

but also

Soft Touches

⭒˚.⭒. 1K Follower Special .⭒.˚⭒

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Fingering, Alien Genitalia, Soft Sex, Slight Tail Play, Creampie, Knotting, Finger sucking/Fingers in mouth, Slight Breeding Kink

Word Count: 4K

A/N: First fic in a while! Sorry its a little rusty.

A/N 2: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: You enjoy a nice lazy morning with your mate after a long night of celebration.

Translations:

Olo'eyktan - Clan Leader

Muntxate - Wife, female spouse

Ikran - Mountain banshee, dragon-like aerial predators

It’s mornings like these that remind you to take a breath.

The mornings when the village is mostly silent. When the normal hustle and bustle of early clan life is put on hold for just a moment, most others favoring the extra sleep and time alone with their loved ones after a long night of celebration before the reality of the day catches up to them and they need to re-enter the real world. 

The celebration was one of new beginnings. The new life born from the couple who had been trying for a long time - new parents who you had seen almost give up hope in ever conceiving after years of nothing finally receiving Eywa’s blessing in the form of a beautiful baby boy. The People cheered and prayed for their new clan member as Jake formally introduced him to the world, holding the baby high above his head and shouting his name with pride as if the baby were his own. 

You hope maybe one day soon, he’ll be able to do the same for your own child. 

As the ceremony turned into food and food turned into dance, the night passed by in a flurry of blood thumping music and happy memories. Your mate is a vision in his Olo’eyktan garb - muscular shoulders made even more broad by the layered feathers proudly displayed on him. His beautiful face somehow made even more beautiful framed by the ornate headpiece that lays distinguished on his forehead. The multitude of necklaces and armbands that adorn him, dressed with colorful beading, intricate knots, and bones. 

They’re symbols of respect. Symbols of honor. 

You can’t wait to tear them off his body when you get home.

And so you do - following every instinct you have as you rip the badges of honor from him in a fierce display that has your Olo’eyktan practically shaking in excitement and grinning that adorably goofy smile of his as he leans back against your shared woven mat, hands folded comfortably behind his head as he lets you ravage him to your heart’s delight. 

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes you feel alive. It’s exciting and fun, quick and intensely satisfying as you both greedily chase that pleasure that you know only the other can provide. 

“Fucked your brains out,” Jake jokes afterwards, and you resist the urge to smack him - too satisfied and gooey in the glow of the aftermath that you can’t even bring yourself to move to make the hit. 

You think he knows that, which is probably why he said it.

You don’t dream, and sometimes that’s better than even the best dreams. There’s nothing to keep your mind working, no other life to live in another world and nothing to bring your deepest fears or greatest dreams to life. It’s just silence. Pure rest and energy replenishment. You wake up feeling refreshed - calm and serene. 

Like the rest of the world is miles away and it’s just you and the love of your life together alone, away from all responsibility and the demands life brings.

Mornings like this are easy. 

Soft light just barely making it into the hut, just enough to light up everything around you, but not enough that you couldn’t easily fall back asleep if you wanted to. Jake’s arms are a warm blanket around you, keeping you close and safe and protected even in sleep. The consistent puffs of breath on your neck from where his face is pressed close to you is soothing in a way you can’t even begin to describe. You could lay here all day, wrapped up in the warmth of his body and the unassuming fuzziness of almost sleep blurring at the edges of your vision. 

There’s no worries right now, no concern or to-do’s or looming tasks that are faring for your attention. 

It’s just him and you. Even if for only right now. 

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles. 

She made him for you somehow. Just for you.

Your fingers continue their featherlight touches on his arm and they’re more deliberate now as your tail curls around the back of Jake’s leg so the soft tuft of hair at the end can tickle along the back of his knee. The light touches are guaranteed to wake him up. He showers you in a strong gentleness, granting you the light and soft touches that you love so much exactly when you need them, but he prefers a firmer touch. The softer touches drive him insane after a while and he’ll often grab your hand and push it harder against his skin to starve off the sensation or even drag your nails across the spot to get rid of the itch. 

You’re a menace, purposefully teasing him with light touches just to see him react the way he does. Just because it's a soft and peaceful morning doesn’t mean you’ll show him reprieve. 

The tightness in your core says you want him, so he needs to wake up. Just the feel of his body pressing against yours and the rhythmic puffs of breath on the back of your neck is sending pleasant tingles down your spine. The warmth of his body heat turns into a different kind of warmth that swells in your stomach and settles between your thighs.

You can feel him start to stir behind you, the puffs of breath becoming harsher as his arm and leg twitch against your lovingly mean touches. Your body tenses in excitement when you feel the sharp teeth press against the nape of your neck and the low growl he lets out reverberates through your entire body.

“What have I said about the touching, baby?”

“Firm strokes,” You grin before adding on a smug, “Everywhere.”

Jake hums against you, teeth still a clear warning against the back of your neck and they dig in just a little harder at your cheeky answer. 

“That’s right,” He says against your skin. “So why is my mate being bad on this very nice morning?”

“Wanted you to wake up,” You breathe. 

Your tail flicks at the back of his knee again and you let out an excited laugh when he pulls his arm away from your tickling fingers to snatch your tail. He jerks it swiftly in reprimand, not hard enough to actually hurt but just enough for you to feel the sharp pull of it and the sensation shoots right down to your center.

“Wake up for what?” He asks, but you can hear the responding grin in his voice.

You arch your back, pressing your ass against his bare front just to drive the point home. His cock is still sheltered in its protective sheath, but the action is clear anyway. “You know for what,”

The move does its job and your Jake is significantly riled up in an instant. He presses his front harder against your back, rolling you slightly forward to better gain leverage against you. The muscular arm you’re using as a pillow shifts so that his hand can reach down and cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his large hand. The other hand slides across your hip, the tip of your tail still caught in the loose ring of his thumb and pointer finger as he drags it with him between your thighs. 

He keeps it trapped there as his middle finger runs across your slick slit, sliding up and down the length of your pussy with the lightest of touches. The tuft of hair on your tail sticks together as Jake drags it with him and a part of you wants to yell at him, mortified at the idea of your own tail becoming dirtied by your own sticky mess. But the feeling of the soft hair sliding across your needy slit makes you even more desperate and the control that he shows he has over you as he uses your own hair tuft on your tail to help him tease you makes you whimper.

“Ma Jake,” You squirm. You tilt your hips trying to get him to touch you better - push a little harder, slide a finger inside, touch your clit, something. But he doesn’t budge. Just continues his teasing as he nips his sharp teeth at your ear.

“Hm, what’s wrong, babygirl?” He mocks. “I thought you liked soft touches.”

Since he moved, your hands had been clutching the wrist of the hand caressing your breast. Now, you pull one away from its resting place to grab the hand between your thighs trying to manipulate his fingers into moving to the places you want them to. The inside of your palm brushes against the sticky strands of hair as Jake makes it brush over your clit and your tail jerks in response as your body inadvertently tries to tug it away, but Jake keeps it hostage between his skilled fingers. The fine hairs leave silky lines of wetness against your palm. 

“Please,” You whine and your fingers press against his middle finger, forcing it to slip between your wet lips. “Be nice to your muntxate.”

“Yeah?” Jake grumbles. “After you were just so nice to me?”

A part of you wants him to continue to drag this out. You like the tease. The way the barely there touches are nowhere near enough to get you to where you want to be but the tortuous featherlight brush of fingers makes you wetter than direct and firm touches would. Jake knows how to play with you, knows how to work you up to near madness with barely even lifting a finger. He touches the right spots - gentle brushes against the length of your pussy, caressing along the sides and down the slit, dipping in enough just to be able to slide across your hole that clenches with need from every new ‘not touch’. Sometimes his fingers would nudge against your clit, just enough to make you jump as a shock of pleasure shoots into your belly at the place you most want him to touch finally getting some attention, even if for only one fleeting second. 

“I’m always nice to you,” You breathe. 

“Oh, yeah?” Jake laughs, knowing disbelief coloring the beautiful sound and you can’t help the cheeky grin that pulls at your lips in return. “You’re always nice to me, huh?

“Mhm,” You agree. You lean your head back so your cheek can rub against Jake’s. “The nicest and most perfect mate ever.”

“Hm,” Jake hums and your breathing hitches as when his fingers slide more purposefully towards your dripping hole. “Yeah, you’ve never been a pain in my ass for a single second, have you?”

Your tail lashes out behind you when Jake loosens his grip on it in favor of sinking his long fingers inside you. It smacks against Jake’s thigh a few times and distantly you hope that it leaves a wet spot there too as payback, but the thought is so removed from your brain right now that it hardly even registers at all. His fingers slide into you so perfectly, the size of two of them sinking into your cunt begins to stretch you out so well. Compared to the actual size of him, it's not enough to fully prepare you. But you can feel where his cock has come out to play behind you, already hard and wet from the slick of its protective sheath as it pokes at the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve just always been my good girl,”

His words are sweet, the urge to nod and agree that yes, yes you have always been his good girl is so strong as his fingers fill you up, but you know better than anyone how the edge of sarcasm in his words ring true. When you first met Jake, you had been hostile. Furious with your best friend when she had saved him in the forest and furious even more when she begged for your help to train him in the ways of The People when her father had instructed her to take on the task of babysitter. It makes you laugh now to think back on those months. Neytiri wasn’t nice by any means, but she had quickly developed a fond friendship with the dreamwalker despite her early aggression. And even though you hissed at him, smacked him instead of guiding him into place when learning to shoot a bow and arrow and use a knife, and called him every insult you knew straight to his face while fully taking advantage of the fact that he was still learning Na’vi - you had grown to be quite fond of him too.

The differences you had once held against him were now things to be cherished. The five fingers that once made you nervous, too associated with the demons that had come and killed people that you cared about and tried to destroy your home, were a symbol of his loyalty to you and The People. He chose you - chose to be with you and give his loyalty to you and Eywa and the rest of the clan over the species he was born as, and you take pride in seeing that fifth finger on his hand, playing with it lovingly between your own fingers, and knowing what it symbolizes to you. Made a human but created by the Great Mother: different, but still Na’vi. 

But you are a warrior - fierce and focused, courageous and determined. Maybe a little aggressive. Stubborn. So maybe you’re not always as nice as you could be. The fondness grown from spending the time of getting to know Jake and the unavoidable blessing of love that came after couldn’t have stopped the aspects of your personality and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were always a patient, kind, and understanding bundle of joy. You argue and expect things, fierce in your opinions and beliefs just as fierce as you love. 

You would never have found a worthy match with someone else in the clan. No one else could have ever handled you the way Jake can. No one else would have ever loved you as much as Jake does. 

You’re a pain in his ass - on him from the start if he’s wrong about something, making a bad call or the wrong decision, and you push him to be better as a good mate should. Direct communication. No sugar-coating things. Jake can handle it and you hate it in the moment, but you’re grateful that you can say he returns the favor too. 

“My perfect mate,” Jake agrees and your tail shakes with excitement as he digs his fingers in deeper.

You’re so wet already, slick pooling between your thighs as you spread them more to give him a little more space for his hand. The hand on your breast clings to it, not letting go or loosening its grip for a second as he squeezes at your chest. His clever fingers form a cage around your nipple that pinches the hard bud between his third and fourth finger with each squeeze, and the sharp pang of pleasure that courses through your body from the stimulation drives you to grind down on the hand between your thighs even harder.

His fingers feel so good inside you, stretching you and thrusting as deep as they can go as you leak around them. He knows all your good spots, fingertips curling and rubbing against your slick walls as he torments the spots he can reach in his position and rakes the tips of his fangs on the back of your neck to make up for the ones he can’t. Your hand is still laying on top of his, moving with it as if it’s guiding its movements. Jake lets you keep it there. He knows you like to act like you’re in control sometimes. 

The thick head of his cock pokes at your ass, sliding against the curve of it and your hand finally leaves the top of his to reach behind you. Your hand curls around his length, stroking gently and feeling each textured bump and barb rub against your fingertips. His fingers are good, magical even. But even in the soft morning glow when things are quiet and you should be satisfied, it’s still not enough. 

“Ma Jake, please?”

He chuckles. “You’re so polite when you want something,” 

You grin. “Don’t make me be mean,”

Jake shifts his hips harder against your ass, somehow shoving his fingers deeper inside you as he rubs his cheek against yours, lips pressing just off to the side of your own in a quick kiss. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to be mean, would we?”

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean. 

He doesn’t let you respond, instead choosing to be nice and halting the sweet torment of his fingers in your cunt and replacing them with the blunt press of his cock at your entrance. Your body mourns the loss of his fingers when he pulls them from between your legs, but you do well to push the feeling down when he hooks his hand under your knee and bends your leg up, spreading you more to give him easier access to push his cock inside. 

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as his length spears you open, stretching you and filling you up the way you know only he can. You can feel every delicious raised bump on his cock as he slides into you and you squeeze down on him, reveling in the way the texture scrapes against your slick walls. 

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to be like this with him in his human body. Wheelchair and paralyzing spinal injury aside - you still imagine him standing straight, as tall as he can be, and staring at you with that daring, cocky, fearless expression of his - smirking and ready to tame you just as he had tamed his ikran. 

He’d be so much smaller than you. Your hand easily encompassing the entire side of his head as you pulled him in for a kiss, and the agitation you might feel at having to wait even for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his breathing mask. He’d be smaller down there too. The thought makes you giggle a little. It’s a shame really - because the idea of trying the human version of him, despite your pretenses, is very appealing. Smaller human Jake is still your Jake, no matter what body he is in.

How would it feel? There would be no barbs or added texture for stimulation, no extra slick other than a small amount of precum to make taking it any easier. No knot to lock you in and keep you close afterwards. 

How would it feel encased snugly inside your walls? It would be smooth, right? Save for maybe a vein here and there. He’s told you before that a human’s genitalia hangs outside the body, balls included. You think that’s rather interesting. Stupid - but interesting. A flawed design in a species that mostly considers itself perfect. But what would that feel like? You can picture what you think that would be like - Jake’s own swinging, unprotected, with each thrust. Would they slap against your ass as he fucks you? Could they hit your clit if you make him fuck you with you on all fours?

You’d never ask him. Your pride would never let you. But sometimes, you think about it and wonder. The desire to try something you know you never can and to do it with the only person you would ever want to try it with. 

The first retreat of him pulling back and then the slow and dragging slide of him pushing back into you makes sure to clear that lingering thought out of your mind. What could you possibly want that for when you have this right here? 

Perfect, passionate, intimate, and completely yours. 

His lips are at your ear, panting breath fanning at the curve of it as he murmurs to you about how tight you are and how good you feel around him. Like a perfect sleeve made just for my cock, he tells you, and groans when the words make you clench around him like a vice. 

Jake’s hand lets go of your knee to reach around your front again, fingers finding the sensitive bud between your thighs. Your clit throbs under his touch and there’s people around you in the nearby huts - families who can definitely hear you if you get too loud. And even though sex is not taboo among the Na’vi like you’ve learned it is among many humans, it's still early on a morning post celebration and people are sleeping. You don’t think Weim, Tsuakir, and their young daughter, Iski, would appreciate getting woken up by the pleasured mewling cries of their Olo’eyktan’s mate before it’s time for them to rise. 

You get out one loud moan before Jake is pulling his hand from your breast and shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“Shhh, babygirl,” Jake whispers. “Can’t keep you all to myself if you wake up the whole damn village.”

A part of you wants to bite at the fingers in your mouth, the urge to rebel in any way you can against Jake’s slight increase in control over you, but they work too well - long digits pressing into the sides of your cheek and against your tongue just enough to keep you quiet. His other hand is drawing swirls around your clit, using the combined wetness of both of your slicks to make it nice and slippery.  

The knot on the base of his cock is swelling, pushing and pulling at the rim of your entrance with each rhythmic rock of his hips, and you suck eagerly at Jake’s fingers in your mouth as your body molds to each stretch and give. Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells. 

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

The swollen knot catches on your rim, pushing inside with a pointed snap of Jake’s hips, and you gasp when it slips inside you, stretching you to what you always feel are your limits but your body welcomes him willingly. The shock of his knot locking inside you and the insistent circles on your clit trigger your orgasm, and you cum to the warmth of Jake’s own release painting your insides as you clench around him, pleasure crashing through your body and leaving you feeling all the more fuzzy and weightless in the soft morning glow filling the hut than how you woke. 

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

But not right now - you still have some time left. 

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[stuckinapril]

A lot of things have not worked out in my favor lately but you know what!! True growth comes from keeping my chin up and getting the pieces together, not from being handed things without resistance. There’s no shame in wanting your life to be easier, but personally I’m glad that I’m facing rejection or pitfalls or failure (whether it be at my own hand or somebody else’s) bc 21 is the time to be confused and searching. I don’t want to be at the exact same place in 10 years bc I folded over at the slightest mishap in my life. Now is really just the time and this is completely natural and I will be okay

[skelecentral]

Wasn’t gonna post this because it’s only semi-UT related, but. I really wanted to lmaooo— here’s my faeu self insert (post-turned-fae!)

Faeu is by @/antlered-prince

[warlenys]

been counting the number of wilson scenes per ep and s1 has 140 total with 1x10 having the most at 18 and 1x22 having the least with only 2 he also got a total of 0 separate plots all season and only 4 episodes had any kind of inquiry into his character he truly is just Also In Those Episodes in s1 they didn’t give a fuck about him

[goldenspringmornings]

another petty thing that bothers me about acotar on a technical level is that all of the characters sound the same- none of them have fun or unique speech patterns, nothing special to distinguish them from each other. like I really wish I could describe it better but it all just feel….. early 2000’s fanfic writers idea of “sophisticated” speech. idk if that makes much sense but it’s writing 101 that you can’t have your characters all sounding the same because it’s just boring, it makes your characters feel lifeless like the cardboard cutouts you’re trying to elevate them from

[businesscasualart]

I’m curious if you have any thoughts or headcanons about Onslaught and alcohol. I imagine being a semi-functioning evil team is stressful and if Psimon is chucking everyone’s vapes then cigs and 420 isn’t an option, then alcohol is the second best thing right? Besides drinking together is team building and leads to this wonderful thing called “actually talking about your trauma instead of bottling it up for once”.

AAAA sorry about taking so long to get around to this.

I need to stop checking my inbox until I’m FULLY ready to yap and ramble. I need that lil blue dot reminding me I have asks so bad.

That IS a good question and I’m so flattered that y’all bother with my content. <3 I think they’d be at least somewhat different about alcohol.

(Sorry for any typos in advance, I wrote this mostly at various doctor’s appointments. ALSO. Last thing to apologize for. I’ve never vaped or smoked when I wrote the last part, but I also have never consumed alcohol and that fact may be more evident in this one)

Cw: Alcohol and some references to alcoholism, uh…references to angst but maybe more comfort than angst, kinda all over the place <\3

Okay so, in the beginning, Onslaught was Mostly teens. Psimon was BARELY even old enough to drink in America at the ripe young age of 21, flat. And I thinnkkkkkk Psimon is American? Even if he’s not, it seems the rest of Onslaught is, so I think  Psimon would probably step up and be all “No, no,” confiscate all the bottles and cans and it’d make the teens so mad and indignant. Literal felons are being BABYSAT. Even when they travel where the drinking age is lower. 

But when the teenagers turn old enough to drink, they have a whole little birthday celebration with what they can get, and of course, offer the first taste of alcohol. Their choice for what it is, as long as the team could afford it. Of course, they laugh and tease if they recoil from the taste. 

Most of the team is pretty fond of drinking, usually together. It’s nice bonding.

Devastation is the only exception to the “Psimon Says no alcohol until you’re 21” rule from the beginning. The team can argue “She is LITERALLY one (1) year old” all they want. She is LITERALLY built different, Psimon is fine with her drinking. 

Idk if she particularly has a preference for any kind. She’s probably one of those who subscribe to the belief of “It ain’t right if it doesn’t burn a bit going down”. Wine is probably somewhat…nostalgic. For some reason. Takes her back to someplace she can’t name, someplace she’s never been, but I think that’d be one of the only reasons she might prefer wine. Her taste may be all over. May be whatever’s strong and good. I’m no alcohol savant, what do I know? 

She likes to drink to celebrate and to bond, sometimes to ebb at stress. It takes a LOT to get her drunk, but that’s not gonna stop her from getting drunk when she has the time and money burn on it. She gets drunk and gets even more jovial and warm and open, though she’s usually relatively open. Also, haphazard. She becomes a big fan of violating people’s personal space. Hugs, patting backs, throwing her arm around them, leaning on people shorter than her, etc.

It can annoy a lot of people if she does it too much, Psimon strangely doesn’t seem to mind too much tho…aheem…

Besides that, Psimon’s generally against the team drinking to the point of drunkenness, but there’s little to actually do about it; he struggles to track all of their limits, and when he’s focusing on one, that leaves all the others alone. He tries to avoid getting drunk himself instead. Someone has to stay sober, and his psionic powers don’t mix well with too much alcohol. And he’s the leader. It makes the most sense that it’d be him to keep his wits about him.

The Terror Twins are hearty drinkers; they also can drink a lot and get very warm and jovial when drinking, like Devastation. Any outing to a bar feels celebratory with them. They decided they don’t like to get fully drunk though, not too regularly. First Tuppence decided this, then Tommy when she pointed it out to him. They don’t want to open up more quickly than they intend. Psimon can relate to that, so he defends them when they drop out. That doesn’t stop them from having fun with everyone else though, or helping when things get bad. They’re usually decent at opening up on their own time anyway. 

Shimmer and Mammoth like to follow Psimon’s lead and keep excess drinking to a minimum. A couple of shots, a glass or maybe two, it really depends on what it is, but that’s it. Mammoth can take more than his sister, just by merit of him being so much larger, but he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol at all while his sister does. However, the second either of them get any kind of buzz ebbing at their senses is the second they quit. 

If they’re found sitting down and downing drinks, something is wrong. They’d only let go so much if they’re trying to drown their problems. Then, they can use some company. Someone lending an ear to their sorrows doesn’t sound half bad. 

If another team member is in a similar situation and needs someone to simply sit next to them and just be, or listen, Baran and Selinda are quick to be there for them.

Junior drinks for fun, he’ll seize any opportunity to drink. That man is getting “Krunk” as the kids say. He doesn’t know his limits and if he did, there’s no telling if he’d actually adhere to them. He WILL blackout if no one keeps an eye on him. He will be puking in the trashcan. The rest of the team has to steer him away from opportunities to drink lest he develop alcoholism at the tender age of 5-minutes-into-being-able-to-legally-drink. 

His mood becomes turbulent and fragile. He’ll typically be happy, loud, reckless, aggressive; but at the mention of the wrong thing or at the sight of something that takes him way back, he can breakdown rather easily. It’s actually pretty common for his drunken stints, when they get out of hand, to end in tears. Junior has to be one of the least repressed members of Onslaught, due in no small part to moments like these; where he lets his emotions run rampant and they go down a bad path. 

He’d expect ridicule, but Onslaught is actually very sympathetic to his struggles and complaints, whatever they may be. He can air his dirty laundry as much as he wants with little to no judgement, something he’s not used to. Once he starts, it’s hard to stop, but the team will listen until the end and it’s something he’s really grateful for. Despite being a troublemaker and general criminal, he tries to pay the team’s kindness towards him forward as much as he can.

If Psimon does end up drinking to lose his troubles, he usually does it alone, when everyone else is asleep. Or at least when he thinks everyone else is asleep. Sometimes someone will wander about looking for a late night snack or a glass of water, or even search for him himself. He dislikes being caught like that, dislikes not being so impervious and put-together for the team. 

Without fail, they’ll sit with him awhile. They’ll ask, they’ll listen, they’ll joke or comfort or sit in silence. Psimon will wither in place or try to get them to leave him be, but they’re a stubborn lot. They’re far from the most “upstanding” of company, but they treat him with the same care, empathy, and concern he tries to treats them with; and Psimon finds afterwards that, despite not enjoying being caught in a state of weakness or forced to open up, he wouldn’t have rather it have gone any other way.

[sovhina]

A wip on a Wednesday!!! Like a functional human! Anyway here’s the full body from Octavia’s (they/she) bust I posted the other day now accompanied by resident loser (and current ruler of my heart) (m!)Seven Lawless from @infamous-if !! Seriously it’s so good go play the demo I implore you

[tetzoro]

gooood morning and happy monday friendz ! i hope you all have a wonderful day and it sets you up for a great week ahead !! sending out lots of good energy ᰔ