#I'm not drunk and blasting all this music and having a moment

[ninisdollie]

Enhypen's fav places to make love (Public edition) . ♡̫ㅤ۠ ⭒

Content: 18+ MDNI this one includes ni-ki! if you’re not comfortable please just ignore, he’s my age and i kept it very soft!!

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Heeseung - Bathroom at a party.

One thing about him is that he loves sneaking out in the middle of the night, when everyone's pretty drunk (even him) and in their own worlds.

He would pull your hand and drag you to the closest bathroom before locking the door and kissing you hungrily, because you looked so pretty all night and he couldn't resist you, he needed to have you right there. He would bend you over the sink and suck the skin on your neck before pulling your dress up and grope your ass and titties, his movements sloppy because he's a little too drunk and very horny, that would make you chuckle, helping him move your panties to the side so he could have full access to your pussy, him shoving two fingers inside as soon as he saw how wet you were, you moaning his name, shutting your eyes close and feeling the cold marble on your red cheeks. He'd chuckle mischievously at this, grabbing your hair tight and pulling so he could watch your expressions through the mirror, before finally taking you from behind, thrusting his hips aggressively and bumping into your g-spot over and over again, the sound of his hips crashing with the back of your thighs, while he groans and whispers dirty words, bumbling a bit because of the alcohol on his system. "Fuck baby, feels so good, been wanting to fuck you all night". And you could only whimper and moan and tell him to please go faster.

Eventually someone would knock on the door, and he would slow his movements before answering, his sweaty hair sticked to his forehead. "Busy." that's the only thing he would say before going back to thrusting inside of you.

Jake - In his car on an empty parking lot.

Having a boyfriend with a car had its benefits, for example you barely had to order Ubers because he would always pick you up no matter where you were, when you both had no plans for the night, a car ride blasting music and enjoying the food from the drivethru was the best plan ever. This would most times end up the same way, you on top on him on the driver's seat while he devoured your lips, skirt all the way up to your waist so he could touch you as he pleased, gripping his veiny hands to your thighs and asscheeks, squeezing and slapping because he did love them so much, you whimpering in his mouth at the moment his fingers teased you above the thin fabric of your panties. Jake was always so desperate to touch you, to feel you, so he would sigh and groan when you'd take his belt off, putting your hands inside of his jeans and taking out his cock, which would be already rock-hard and dripping.

You would ride him there, the air so hot because of your own breaths, the windows foggy and the music hiding the sound of your moans, his grip on your waist tight as you jump up and down on his length, feeling him stretch you so good. He would kiss you again, wet, sloppy, dirty, not being able to last much when you rode his dick like that. "You look so pretty bouncing on me baby, I'm gonna cum so hard".

Sunghoon - Practice room

Sunghoon loved it when you could make time out of your schedule to visit him, you always brought him snacks and drinks, greeting his members with that sweetness on your face that made him melt right away. When you hadn't seen each other for a while, he would tell you how much he missed you and your body.

Once the practice room was clear he would push you to the nearest wall, kissing your neck and leaving bruises that would be visible, he could get a little possessive, his body covered in sweat due the previous practice, his scent driving you crazy and making you all wet and messy and desperate. The adrenaline of his manager or someone from the staff walking in always got him so turned on, but he would waste no time before lifting your skirt and shoving his fingers inside of you, placing his other hand over your mouth to suppress your needy moans, which he loved as much as the wet sound of your pussy and his fingers.

He would fuck you fast and rough, unloading all of the stress of his activities with your body, and telling you how much he missed you. You didn't care that he used your body like this, you loved it as much as he did because oh my god you missed him so much too. So you would just moan and cry and beg him to fuck you harder.

There was one time when Heeeseung walked on you two, and he only gave him a mischievous smirk, not stopping his movements. "Are you gonna close the door or you wanna join us?" Your face would be red from embarrassment, and Heeseung would shut the door all ashamed too. Sunghoon would chuckle, going faster inside of you. "Gonna loose my career because of this pussy, don't care."

Jay - In the pool

Jay is a hopeless romantic, don't get me wrong, he loved to make love to you slowly, taking his time to savour and worship your body like you deserved it, making you arch and scream his name in places nobody could hear you.

However, other times, he would get horny and needy just like that, and saying you didn't like it would be a lie. He just couldn't held himself back when you showed up in that beautiful bikini set, your glistening skin beneath the sun, the curves on your body and how you moved around looking so pretty and confident, he needed to have you right there.

So he would corner you inside the pool, everyone playing around and minding their own business, a can of beer on his hand. The other hand, reached for you thigh under the water, making its way up to your ass, which he squeezed before gently pulling your bikini bottom to the side, this would make you open your eyes wide, scanning the group to make sure nobody was aware of what was happening.

He would cover you with his body, making it seem like you were just hugging, nobody would know that he had his cock buried inside of you, while you held your moans by hiding your face in the curve of his neck, him thrusting his hips slowly, sucking the skin of your neck and whispering how good it felt to be inside of your pussy. “Shh, you’re doing great baby, they won’t notice, let me finish here”

Sunoo - The staircase to your dorm

Although he wasn't the type to really sneak around and fuck on public places, sometimes he would surprise you when you were going up to your dorm, but who can blame him. You were going up the stairs in front of him, the short skirt you'd be wearing leaving almost nothing to the imagination, it was almost like you were teasing him on purpose.

So he would push you to the wall, groping your body shamelessly and devouring your lips with hunger, you would be at great risk of someone coming up the stairs and seeing you, and you would probably get expelled from college due to the scandal. You couldn't care less about this when he was touching you like this, not wasting time in fucking you raw and fast, squeezing your boobs and whimpering in your ear, his grip tight on your waist so you wouldn't loose your balance. "You know I can't control myself when you look this pretty, princess".

Jungwon - In his best friends house

Jungwon was your social butterfly boyfriend, always willing to invite you to hang out with his friends, which you were very close to, they were kind of friends to you too, so you would always go, laughing at their jokes and teasing them, enjoying the friendly banter that would always come eventually.

He would always make sure that everybody knows you are his, he’s not much on the possesive side, but he would place a hand on your thigh, or maybe hug you around your shoulders, stealing kisses from you and complimenting you in front of everyone.

Other times, when you had to go to the bathroom, he would follow you there, surprising you from behind by grabbing your waist and taking you to his best friend’s room while everyone was playing videogames on the couch. You would tell him to stop, that some day you’ll probably get caught, but he didn’t care, he wanted you have you right there.

So he would push to to the bed, sometimes it would be Sunghoon’s bed, sometimes Jake’s, doesn’t matter in which house you were, he would fuck you in all of them. He would put you in fours, taking you from behind with fast, strong thrusts that made your pussy drip and you could only bite your lip to supress your moans and whimpers. "You're so dirty baby, enjoying while i fuck you with all my friends in the living room".

Ni-ki - Cinema theater

You enjoyed your dates with Ni-ki so much, you were head over heels for him, how sweet he was, how he would hold your hand and hug you when a scary part of some horror movie came on the screen, how he would tease you and make some jokes when a jumpscare startled you.

He would distract you in other ways too.

Starting from little kisses on your neck, behind your ear, his hands caressing your thighs, playing with the edge of your skirt, that you wore just for him, he would always say how much he loved it when you got dolled up for him. You would start to sigh and whimper, looking around even if the theater was empty, just making sure nobody was seeing.

At one point he would put his hands under your skirt, tracing circles on your clothed clit, smiling once he realised that you were already wet, he would tease you and touch you slowly until you were a blushed, whimpering mess, your eyes locked on the screen but your mind going circles, not being able to think about anything else than him. He would finger you until you were dripping and begging him to take you there. "Relax, pretty, watch the movie and let me take care of you".

[totalswag]

a little too much fun — RAFE CAMERON

authors note hiii lovies!! hope you like this short fic. sorry for being so m.i.a for bit, school has been very busy for me and wanting to get all that out of the way first.

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summary going out with your girlfriends on a friday night, having too much to drink, and rafe coming to the rescue to take you home safely.

warning(s) reunion with friends, drinking, cursing, jealousy girls.

Tonight, you are going out with three of your girlfriends to the local bar to have a few drinks and chat it up. Since you girls work during the week, it was best to finally meet up together.

The dimly lit bar casts a warm, inviting glow over the hustling crowd. The air was filled with laughter, clinking drinks, and the thundering bass of music. It was a perfect night to be out.

Friday nights are the busiest nights at this bar— tonight happened to be the busiest. People were all around and luckily this was a decent sized bar. Security stood outside in case of an emergency too.

You hadn't let loose in a long time, and the drink had flowed freely, leaving you all with a happy, carefree buzz. They knew you well enough to know when you had reached your limit.

Ava, Bella, Emily, and you sat in a booth with food and drinks around the table throughout the night while you caught up before moving to the floor where more people were.

"It's so glad to be back with my girls" Emily announced, smiling with so much joy, "I can't remember the last time we all hung out" she went on.

"I know right, I missed us being together and getting drunk" Bella responded.

Remainder of the time in the booth, you girls had multiple conversations about multiple things that made time even more special. Whenever you get the chance to meet up, there will be conversations about almost anything.

"Another round?" Ava inquired, raising her glass, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. 

"Sure!" you said, raising your glass in toast. Bella and Emily joined in, and all four of you broke out laughing.

The four of you headed to the dance floor as the night wore on. Everyone began to sing along with the music blasting from the loud speakers and dance to the beat. Color-changing lights gave the bar a pleasant atmosphere.

Drink in hand, you relaxed your body and threw your head to one side while singing out the song's lyrics. At that moment, you felt great.

The girls knew you haven't gone out in awhile and this much to drink in awhile. You told them your password in case Rafe, your boyfriend, needed to pick you up. They watched you throughout the night— four of you looked out for each other regardless.

"I'm having so much fun right now, I missed you girls so much," your sentences slurred, and you felt off balance. Ava caught you right before you collapsed to the side.

Ava whispered "Call or text Rafe" to the girls, pointing to your purse in your grasp— Emily nodded, reaching in your purse for your phone, then texting Rafe to pick you up. He answered quickly, saying he was on his way.

"I'll have my sister pick us up too," Bella said, grabbing her phone from her handbag and messaging her sister.

Rafe showed up shortly after, his towering presence effortlessly slicing through the crowd. He saw you almost instantly, lost in your own world as you swayed to the music, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. With gratitude for his attendance, your friends gave him a warm welcome.

Not knowing your boyfriend is behind you, you swap his hands away from your waist, turning around about to go off on who you thought wasn’t Rafe. That scowl became a happy smile when you realized it was Rafe the whole time.

“Aw baby, what are you doing here?” You ask excitedly but confused at the same time.

"To take you home because you've had to much to drink" Rafe explains carefully, pulling the strand of your hair behind your ear.

"But I'm not ready to go home" you pout.

Rafe understands that you don't want to go home and would rather hang out with your girlfriends, but he doesn't want anything to happen to you or your friends on such a busy night. Behind your drunken glance, you realize he is looking out for you. It shows that he cares.

"Baby, I understand you do not want to leave right now. The girls are about to be picked up by Bella's sister. Plus, there's always the remainder of the weekend and next weekend," he says loudly enough to be heard above the speaker's loud music.

You turn your head over your shoulder and look at your friends with sadness. You swivel your body around and extend your arms for a group hug. You felt your body relax.

"Thank you for calling Rafe," you say, holding them tightly. "Please text the group chat when you arrive home safely." 

"Of course, we love you," Emily replies.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the exit, your steps unsteady. Just as you reached the door, you noticed a group of girls at a nearby table. They were staring at Rafe, their eyes wide with admiration. In your drunken state, jealousy flared up, and you couldn’t help but flip them off.

One of the girls, a blonde with too much attitude for her own good, called out, "Who does she think she is?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, your drunken bravado kicking in. "I'm his girlfriend, bitch," you slurred, glaring at her. "And he’s taking me home. So, enjoy the view while you can."

The girl’s mouth snapped shut, her face turning red with embarrassment as her friends snickered. Satisfied, you turned back to Rafe, who was trying to hide a smirk.

"Let's go, tiger," you said, leaning heavily on him.

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[vibelladonna]

❛ 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝓍 𝑔𝓃! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: They say poison is dangerous—yes, a substance that is capable of causing illness or death by taste, by touch, it should never be taken under any circumstances.

You’re a belladonna—a beautiful, deadly kind of poison.

Geo has always been a mystery wrapped in thorns—bitter to the touch, beautiful in a way that promised pain. A slow-acting poison with no antidote, the kind you’re warned to avoid. But warnings are wasted when the danger is exactly what you crave… and your body keeps reaching for the burn. You're not soft, and neither is he.

One’s poison—potent, addicting. The other? perhaps immune?

The question is... Does your venom suit his craving?

Or will you be the sweetest thing to ever ruin him—beautifully, completely, irreversibly?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: For my dearest mutuals, @mint0hhh artist of the [ header picture ] fun fact this was first geo art I saw on tumblr, and @lu-dao-writes who gave me the setting and plot—plus a few add-ons from anons who asked for angst (you know who you are).

This one's personal—a self-insert with a QPR dynamic between Aroace!Geo and Aroace!Reader (since I'm Ace, still figuring out if I'm Aro—read and let me know). Inspired by the recent announcement, I kept it gender-neutral with they/them pronouns. It's been a while since I wrote something just for me, and I missed that.

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: geo x gn and self insert!, angst (like. hella angst. cried while writing it.), slow burn, in vino veritas, mutual pining, enemies and lovers (kinda), queerplatonic relationship, aroace rep, mentions of OCD, hyperawareness anxiety, emotional damage, (i really hurt my own damn feelings with this one.)

Halloween.

Though it is just one evening where the entire world resonates with your energy—for wildness, wickedness, just the edge of something fun. Crisp air un-soak sober, the wind carries the scent of burning leaves, cheap whiskey, and whatever questionable punch someone dumped into a cauldron. Shadows stretch long, neon lights flash in the distance, and for once—just once—you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

Now Halloween in college?

 Oh, it’s so much more than just an excuse to party across the world. It’s a whole ass experience. While some people come for the horror—the haunted houses, wacky dares, and fake blood sprayed all over bathroom mirrors—some seek an excuse to just simply go out of their minds for the night with cheap booze and transient and rash decisions. 

You have come here for all of it. 

The parties, the madness, the whole campus feels like it vibrates with energy and begs the night to get you a little too drunk or too bold or to leave you in a state of being a little too gone to care about anything at all except the moment. 

You can already see the Campus alive at night; jack-lanterns are flickering, far away, screaming from haunted houses on Greek row, music blasting so much that you feel it in your ribs. 

Someone's already passing with devil horns and all smeared lipstick and laughter trailing behind them. The streets are packed, bodies pressed together, and slurred conversations and this night is only beginning. 

You take a deep breath, imagining the hits, everything from alcohol, throbbing adrenaline under the skin, and absolute certainty that this night will only be a blur with poor decisions and even worse ideas. 

And really? Wouldn't want it any other way. 

“Why are you so obsessed with Halloween?” Crowe’s voice carried that usual mix of amusement and curiosity—light, teasing, but just sharp enough to let you know he actually wanted an answer.

The vice president of the student council—polished, poised, untouchable—sat beside you outside during lunch, mirroring your posture with his legs crossed like it was second nature.

You glanced at him briefly before shifting your gaze away, eyes trailing the glow of streetlights and the flickering jack-o’-lanterns scattered around campus then you took sip of your drink in front of you.

“Because Halloween is cool.” 

Simple. Honest. Direct.

Exactly what anyone should expect from you.  

But Crowe? Yeah, he wasn’t buying that for a damn second. 

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head before dragging his gaze over your outfit—the kind of once-over that wasn’t just looking, however analyzing the living hell out of you. The knowing glint in his eyes said everything his words didn’t. “Right,” he mused, voice dripping with amusement. “Somehow, I’m inclined to think you’re a little more than just ‘excited-going.’”

Of course, he would say something like that.

Out of everyone, Crowe had probably the best read on you—not that you ever made it easy for him.

You’d met him about, what? You place your hand under your chin, like two years ago..? His dumbass had thrown himself between you and a group of bullies like some martyr, despite having the fighting skills of a wet paper bag. The whole thing had been pitiful to watch, honestly. You’d barely broken a sweat handling it yourself, and yet, there he was, trying to be your knight in shining armor.

You weren’t sure if it was bravery or sheer stupidity, but something about him stuck. Maybe it was how he kept trying to befriend you, even when you ignored him outright. Maybe it was because you saw the way he needed to be needed, even when you didn’t.

Either way, you let him stick around. Vice versa. 

And now? You were here—hanging out with his actual friend group. A group he’d tried—and kinda almost failed to properly integrate you into.

You remember their names clearly.

Brittany and Jess were currently locked in some very passionate debate over future costumes. Deryl was talking Geo’s ear off—though, from the way Geo was sitting, arms crossed and eyes closed, perhaps asleep or ignoring him? It was safe to say he was not invested in the conversation. 

And then there was you. Caught up in your own little world with Crowe, as usual. Even then, he knew. Knew that Halloween wasn’t just some holiday to you—it was a part of you, something that slipped through the cracks even when you didn’t mean for it to.

It was in the way you dressed. The way the flowing fabric of your outfit moved with you, catching the light just right, embroidered with intricate patterns that shimmered like something out of a dream. The layers you wore weren’t just for the cool air—they were intentional, a mix of comfort, just for you. Your platform boots added weight to your steps, grounding you, making each movement feel purposeful—like you didn’t just walk, you arrived. 

Silver rings caught the dim light, a mix of old and new, each one with a story. Skulls, amethysts, gothic designs—they weren’t just accessories, they were pieces of you, woven through your hair, your fingers, the very air around you.

It wasn’t a costume. It wasn’t dress-up. It was you.

You exhaled, watching your breath curl into the autumn air before finally meeting Crowe’s gaze. A small, knowing sigh pulled at your lips.

“In other words… this is the only time I feel alive.”

Crowe hummed, a thoughtful look settling on his face. Oh no—you knew that look. He was about to suggest something. “You know,” he started, way too casually, “you should host a Halloween party. At my place.” …Oh. 

Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that.

You thought he was gonna ask about your classes again—because who actually wants to talk about that unless they’re in class? Or maybe try, once again, to convince you to befriend his actual friends. But this? You blinked, tilting your head like you must’ve misheard him. “At your place?”

He nodded. Completely serious. Wow.

You scoffed, glancing away. “Okay, and how exactly am I supposed to host a party at your place? Am I just supposed to roll up, kick down your front door, and start handing out invitations?”

Crowe smirked, completely unfazed. “I’d give you permission, of course. You and me? We could throw the best damn Halloween party this school has ever seen.” He nudged your shoulder, “I got the council on board for this party,” he continued, undeterred. 

“We all think it’s a solid idea.” His eyes narrowed slightly like he was trying to figure out how to sell it to you. Even flashed that smile—the one he usually aimed at the hopelessly charmed, the ones who practically melted under his attention.

You, however, were not impressed. Not even a little. 

Your face scrunched up in pure disinterest as you leveled him with a deadpan stare, “This is such rich, high-class boy energy. ‘Oh, let me just hand you a key to my estate so you can throw a party, where it’s just a bunch of young adults making bad decisions—like we’re in some kind of horror movie.’” 

You mimicked his smooth, confident tone with just enough exaggeration to make him roll his eyes. “What’s next, Crowe? You gonna have a killer show up to really set the mood?”

He lifted a brow, clearly about to laugh but held it back. “First of all,” he started, completely ignoring your impression, “I think it would be good. You have the vibe, you know how to make things fun, and—” He gestured vaguely at you. 

“Look at you. You are Halloween. If anyone should throw the biggest party of the season, it’s you.” Then he added, “With my help, of course.”

You squinted at him, unimpressed, before casually checking your phone. “Uh-huh. And what’s in it for you, prince?”

Crowe shrugged, before flashing that infuriating smirk. “I enjoy a good party.”

“Right,” you said flatly, giving him a knowing look. “And definitely not because you get to sit back and watch the crazy shit unfold.”

Because if there was one thing you knew about Crowe, it was that he loved a little bit of drama. Sure, he had the prince act down to a science—student council vice president, responsible, mature—but deep down? 

He lowkey lived for the drama. As long as it didn’t involve him directly, of course. Eventually, he’d have to step in and be the voice of reason, but you knew he liked to watch the mess build first. 

“I mean,” he mused, smirking, “that is a bonus.”

You shook your head, though a grin threatened to break through. “All right, fine, golden boy. I’ll help plan your exclusive, high-class Halloween bash. But—” you held up a finger—“on one condition.”

Crowe tilted his head, amusement showing in his eyes. “And that is?”

“You,” you said, jabbing a finger at his chest like a judge delivering a sentence, “are going to be the main host. I’ll be your party-planning partner, but no way in hell am I letting you dump this whole thing on me while you kick back with some overpriced whiskey, watching drunk idiots puke in the potted plants.” You gestured vaguely. “Plus, this isn’t my house. You get to be responsible for the aftermath.”

Crowe’s smirk stretched wider, something downright sneaky about the glint in his eyes. “Oh, now that—” he exhaled a soft laugh, “that is actually a fantastic idea.” Then he suddenly added, “Yeah. By looking at you, I need the best of the best from you.” 

You tilted your head, a little confused. “You want psychological horror at a uni party?" Then questioned, "You do realize half these people are gonna be too drunk to appreciate subtle fear, right? Or they might just straight-up shit themselves, actually…” you trailed off, looking somewhat away, suddenly picturing someone sobbing in a corner after a jumpscare gone wrong.

Crowe, ever the dramatist, flicked a fallen leaf off your shoulder to catch your attention again. “Exactly why we have to make it inescapable.” His voice dipped lower, conspiratorial. “Something interactive. Something that makes them question what’s real and what’s just part of the game.”

You become quiet, allowing a ton of ideas to unravel in your mind like a quick-burning flame. Crowe watched you, expectant, because he knew you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity for pure, chaotic entertainment.

You let out a soft, resigned sigh. "All right, host," you agreed, flashing a slow, devilish grin. "Let’s make this the best damn Halloween this campus has ever seen." Your voice dropped, laced with mischief. "Let’s make them suffer."

Crowe’s grin stretched wider, victorious.

"Now that’s the spirit."

Without missing a second, he quickly turned away from you to address the group. "All right, listen up!" he announced, voice cutting through the conversations. "We’ve decided—we’re throwing a Halloween party. But not just any party. It’s going to be the party of the year. No, of the decade."

Everyone’s conversations paused. 

Heads turned toward him… and then toward you, who sat coolly with your head tilted, watching them carefully. You didn’t care how they reacted—but it was always so entertaining to see how easily people got excited or rattled when you got involved.

Predictably, Brittany—the self-proclaimed fashion gyaru queen—gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, finally! Someone who actually knows how to plan something fun. I’m all in! I’m planning everyone’s costumes!"

Next to her, Jess, who you thought of as Brittany’s bookworm assistant—even though you knew their relationship ran way deeper than that—clasped her hands together as if she’d just been handed the keys to her dream. "I can handle decorations if you need" She softly said.

Across the table, Deryl—still half-distracted, ranting about something to Geo—ears perked up immediately. "Sick! I’ll bring the food and drinks!" he shouted, ever the bundle of chaotic energy.

And then… there was Geo.

Without even lifting his head, flatly, "I’m not going."

The entire table fell silent, as the air itself paused.

You weren’t surprised. Not really. But still, damn, Geo had a way of shutting things down so fast it was almost impressive. 

What did bother you—no, annoy you—was the fact that you could never really read him the way you did everyone else. It wasn’t just about his words or his expression; it was his entire existence. 

Every single person in this group had something—some defining action that made them them.

Brittany had her dramatics, Jess had her quiet enthusiasm, Deryl was loud and chaotic, and Crowe? Well, Crowe is the group leader, he kinda born and lived to be the center of attention. 

All these moments when you knew exactly what everyone was feeling just by those simple actions. All except for Geo…

Geo was an fucking enigma. 

No ticks, no habits that stood out, no tells—nothing. You had spent enough time observing people to know that everyone had had something. Some little unconscious action that gave them away. A twitch of the fingers, a glance to the side, a shift in posture.

He gave nothing. 

Like ‘go-girl-gives-us-nothing’ type way. It was like he had perfected the art of being unreadable, and you hated that. Not because you wanted to know his secrets, but because it made him the only person in the damn circle you couldn’t get a solid read on. 

And that was just frustrating. 

Crowe, of course, was the first to break the silence, eyes gleaming with mischief and a hint of desperation. “Aww, come on. Live a little. It won’t kill you.”

Geo barely glanced up from whatever deep void of thought he was drowning in, his expression as flat as ever. “Debatable.”

Crowe gasped, clutching his chest like he’d just been personally betrayed. “You wound me.”

Deryl snorted. “Dude, we all know you never get tired of that kind of rejection.”

"True, but that doesn’t mean I like it," Crowe shot back, before turning to you. And there it was—that look. That smug, expectant smirk like he already decided you’d be the one to fix this for him.

“What do you think, fearless party planner?” he mused, tilting his head. "Think we can convince our dear, beloved Geo to make an appearance?"

You barely spared Crowe a glance before shifting your gaze to Geo, who was already looking at you. Same unreadable, sharp stare.

God, you hated that.

You folded your arms. “Convince him for what?” you deadpanned before flicking your gaze back to Crowe. “He’s a grown-ass man. If he doesn’t wanna come, he doesn’t have to.” Then, with a casual shrug, you added, “Like he just said—he’s not going. Guessing he has better things to do.”

Crowe raised a brow. “Like what?”

Geo, without hesitation: “Staying home.”

You scoffed. "Wow. Never mind. That’s not ‘better things.’ That’s just you being anti-social."

"Exactly."

Crowe, ever the instigator, leaned in with a wicked smirk. “C’mon, Geo. Can’t let your favorite person down.”

Geo didn’t even blink. “You’ll be fine.”

Crowe clicked his tongue. “I meant them.”

Geo did blink then, his head tilting slightly toward you. His expression, as always, unreadable.

You sighed dramatically, rubbing your temple. "Oh, don’t look at me. I’m not in the business of dragging unwilling hermits to social gatherings." Then, with a knowing smirk, you added, “Besides, I figured you’d wanna avoid watching people flirt all night. You do hate that.”

Geo exhaled through his nose. “Hate’s a strong word.”

“You called Deryl insufferable for existing in the same room as a couple making out.”

Deryl, meanwhile, was still processing. He gestured vaguely between you and Geo. “Hold on—I’m insufferable now?”

“You are insufferable,” Geo replied then looked back at you, “And?”

“And nothing,” you sighed, pushing yourself to your feet and striding toward Geo without hesitation. You stood up in front of him, arms crossed, meeting his gaze head-on. No flinching. No backing down.

Crowe stiffened. “Uh, wait a sec—”

Deryl raised a hand, almost like he was trying to stop a collision in real-time. “Hold on, they’re really not the type to—” He cut himself off, realizing too late that nothing was going to stop you once you were on a roll.

“I just think it’s funny that you’d rather sit in your room and rot than tolerate a few hours of other people’s bad decisions.” You leaned in slightly, tone casual but laced with challenge. “Not saying I disagree—hell, I’d do the same—but your friends are trying to plan something for once. It’s not like this happens every day. When was the last time you had fun?”

The question hung in the air.

Geo didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you, expression flat, eyes sharp, like he was analyzing the situation—breaking it down piece by piece, deciding whether this was even worth his time.

You weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. Shifting your weight to one side, arms still crossed, you waited.

The silence stretched. The tension was almost comical.

Crowe let out a low whistle. “Damn. He’s actually engaging.”

Deryl nudged him. “And not in his usual ‘leave me alone before I ruin your entire existence’ way. That’s new.”

Despite being the center of attention, Geo didn’t seem fazed. He just kept his gaze locked onto you—steady, unreadable. But something was missing, something that made everyone else exchange glances. 

The usual disinterest wasn’t there. If anything… 

He actually looked like he was considering what you’d said. Almost.

Because this conversation had already drained his will to live, he dragged a hand down his face. “Define your version of ‘fun’.”

You rolled your eyes. “Geo.” You shot him a pointed look. “See, that’s the problem. You shouldn’t have to think that hard. Fun is just… doing things. No overanalyzing. No brooding. Just existing and actually enjoying something. Not everything has to be a damn chess game. Trust me, I’d know.”

He shrugged, as effortlessly indifferent as ever. “I have fun.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Name one thing you’ve done in the past month that qualifies as fun.” 

Silence. Geo just looked at you.

Brittney, who had been watching from the sidelines, leaned in with growing amusement. “Ooh, this is good. Two rounds in a row. That’s a new record.”

Crowe grinned. “Yeah, ‘cause he’s thinking way too hard about it.”

You pressed on, relentless. “Exactly. Fun isn’t something you have to dig through your mental archives for. It’s not a research paper. It just happens. But no, not you. You have to break it down like it’s some kind of military operation.”

Geo finally broke eye contact, glancing at his friends—who were all watching with barely contained smirks. He exhaled sharply, somewhere between a sigh and the world’s most unamused laugh.

“I don’t overanalyze everything,” he muttered.

Crowe snorted. “Oh, you so do.”

Deryl crossed his arms. “And yet, instead of shutting this down, you’re still letting them roast you.”

Everyone went quiet, exchanging looks.

Geo never entertained conversations like this. He shut people down fast—disinterest, sarcasm, a flat-out refusal to engage. And yet, here he was. Still sitting there. 

Still responding to you.

Crowe lit up like he’d just uncovered some grand secret. “Damn. You’re like the Geo Whisperer.”

You shot him a glare. “Oh, shut up.” Though, admittedly, you were still a little annoyed. Someone had to put the smug bastard in his place. Why did everyone just let him get away with being so rude?

Geo, predictably, ignored the remark entirely. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, meeting your gaze once more. “So what? You expect me to go to this party just to prove I know how to have fun?” He clicked his tongue, glancing away for a brief moment before looking back at you. “Sounds exhausting.”

You threw your hands up. “You are exhausting!”

Deryl barked out a laugh, slinging an arm around Crowe. “I love this. We should do this more often.”

Crowe nodded sagely. “This feels like an intervention.”

Geo remained entirely unbothered, stretching out lazily. “I don’t need an intervention.”

“You do if your idea of fun is staring,” you shot back.

Geo raised a brow. “It’s peaceful.”

“I don’t have time for this.” You reached for your bag, which Crowe handed over without a word, already anticipating your next move. “I’m gonna be late for class.”

But before leaving, you turned back, stepping closer until you were face-to-face with Geo. “Are you coming or not?”

Geo tapped his fingers idly against his knee, pretending to give it deep thought. “…To that sorry excuse of a Halloween party, or the lame-ass Art gen ed you’re being forced to take?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You know exactly which one I’m talking about. Don’t start with me.”

“…No,” he said flatly, without hesitation.

Deryl let out a low snort. “Damn. Shot down eventually.”

You huffed. “Look, all I’m saying is you should show up so people don’t turn you into some urban legend—the guy who never left his cave.” Then, with a smirk, you added, “But hey, if you wanna keep the mystery alive, be my guest. I’m sure your fans would love it. Hell, I can see them behind you right now.”

Geo frowned before glancing back—and sure enough, there they were. The usual group that trailed after him like lost puppies, practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Subaru!” one called out.

“Please, we have better gifts this time!” another pleaded.

“Who’s that talking to him? They need to back off,” someone whispered, loud enough to be heard.

You sighed, utterly done. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. People here are so clouded.” The way they obsessed over Geo, over the idea of him—like he was some puzzle they could solve or a prize they could win.

It was simply exhausting. Turning, you walked up to Crowe and gave him a simple pat on his head. "I’m off, see you later everyone." He let out a small gasp, briefly catching your hand in his before releasing it, eyes wide with exaggerated surprise. 

Then, just as quickly, he beamed. “Hhm, okay.”  

Without another word, you turned and walked away, shaking off the lingering irritation as you headed to class.

He knew that look on your face—annoyance, exasperation, but not the kind people had when they wanted something from him. You weren’t like the others, not circling him like vultures, not clouded by whatever ridiculous infatuation everyone else seemed to have.

That’s what made it odd. 

You talked to him, called him out, and never once looked at him with expectation. No attempt to impress, no ulterior motive. Just blunt honesty, the same way he was with everyone else. 

And yet, unlike most, you weren’t scared off by it.

Geo stayed quiet, standing up as well. “I’m heading to class too.” He exhaled sharply, covering his mouth with his hand—but not fast enough to hide the small, amused scoff that slipped out.

Crowe gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. Was that a laugh?”

Deryl shook his head, grinning. “Nah. Impossible. Geo doesn’t laugh.”

“Please shut up,” Geo muttered, his expression quickly settling back into its usual blank indifference. But even as he turned away, his gaze flickered—just for a second—focused somewhere else.

Somewhere else on campus, a quiet spot near the hall pillar, half-hidden in its shadow, Sol watched as you walked away—your irritation still evident in the way your shoulders tensed and the way you didn’t bother looking back.

But instead of heading straight to class, you took your usual detour.

Sol knew your routine well enough by now. Instead of the direct path, you veered toward the student center, the familiar rhythm of your movements unchanging. The market upstairs—probably grabbing a snack before heading off to whatever class had you rushing. You always did this. Always made time for small comforts, even when you were annoyed.

He exhaled softly, his red-orange eyes following you even after you disappeared into the building.

You didn’t see him. Maybe you never did. 

The way the autumn wind caught in your hair, tugging at it like it wanted to keep you there. The way the faint glint of silver jewelry flickered under the weak sunlight. The way you moved, deliberate yet unhurried, like the world wasn’t something to be conquered but something to be entertained by.

Sol had never cared much for people’s routines. Never cared to notice them.

But yours?

Yours was different. And that was the problem.

Sol shifted his weight against the pillar, the cool stone grounding him as he watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. The crisp autumn air did little to cool the heat crawling up his spine as his thoughts replayed that small moment: you patting Crowe’s head, and Crowe, as always, taking the opportunity to pull you closer with that smug, almost playful smile. 

The effortless way he grabbed your hand had Sol’s jaw tightening, a flicker of irritation sparking deep inside him. It wasn’t anything obvious—Crowe did that with everyone, after all. 

But still, Sol couldn’t shake it.

He wasn’t sure why he was even standing here, loitering like some background character in a movie where he didn’t belong. You barely knew each other—a handful of passing conversations, one awkward art class where you’d been paired together because his only friend had stopped showing up—that was it.

And yet...

That day in art class, when he first met you… something had changed.

You were late, nearly crashing into the tables as you hurried in, breathless but laughing, as if your own disarray amused you. You spotted the empty seat beside him, and without hesitation, asked to be his partner. 

No hesitation. No judgment. Just... acceptance.

Sol had agreed with a nonchalant shrug, but at that moment, something unfamiliar had curled inside him.

Again, you were different. Not like the usual people he tolerated. 

You weren’t just there for the grade, despite not being an art major—you genuinely cared about the work. The way you got lost in it, when something caught your eye, and you couldn’t stop talking about it—no matter how trivial it might’ve seemed to others. You’d explain your thoughts, your logic, about every detail, about how each stroke of the pencil had a purpose, how every line and shade carried intention.

Sol barely spoke, but he didn’t need to. He watched. He watched the way your hands moved with purpose, the way you’d trace the contours of your sketchbook with such precision, smudging graphite into shadows as if it came naturally to you. The way you furrowed your brow in concentration, completely lost in the work, and how, for just a moment, the world seemed to fade away for you. It was mesmerizing, the way you brought an image to life was like it was second nature.

It was captivating. You were… captivating. Stalker

Sol exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if he could shake off whatever this was. But somehow, that one class, that single moment, had spiraled into something far more complicated.

Now, he always noticed you before anyone else did. In short, the way your voice carried a subtle lilt, full of amusement when you spoke about the things that made you light up. Again, the way your hands moved as you explained your thoughts, and the fluid gestures made everything you said seem deliberate and meaningful. The way you laughed when you thought no one was watching—soft, hidden under your hand, as though you were trying to keep it contained, but it slipped out anyway.

But then, there was the part Sol hated—the part he couldn’t escape. 

You with Crowe and his friends. It was always the same. You were normally alone, but Crowe—fucking Crowe—always seemed to be the one to invite you first. Sol would watch from a distance, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight, as Crowe casually touched you—your hands, your arm, always in that effortless, easy way that made it seem like it meant nothing. 

Like you were just another part of his world. Sol hated it. Not that he had any right to. Because, in the end, he barely knew you.

Yet, here he was, wanting—no, needing—you to see him. 

“Sol!” No response.

You squinted, tilting your head as you watched him from across the table. You both were supposed to be working on your art gen ed project, but there he was—sitting next to you, physically present, yet his mind was miles away.

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, but they weren’t turning toward the project. No, they were off somewhere in his personal, brooding universe.

“Sol!” you called again, dragging out his name, waving a hand in front of his face like you were trying to snap a possessed doll out of its trance. 

Still nothing. Your eyes narrowed. Oh, hell no.

You grabbed the nearest object—an innocent pencil—and flicked the back of it, hitting his forehead with just enough force to yank him out of whatever deep, spiraling thought he’d fallen into. Sol blinked, his red-orange eyes sharpening, the look of someone just rudely pulled back to reality. He stared at you, mildly startled, brows furrowed in confusion.

You crossed your arms. “I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes now—are you okay or something?”

He blinked again, seemingly processing. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I am not exaggerating,” you shot back. “I called your name like, at least four times. That’s practically an hour in ‘I’m-talking-to-a-wall’ time.”

Sol rubbed the spot where the pencil hit him, exhaling through his nose as he tried to reset his brain. Damn it. He’d gotten stuck in his thoughts again—thoughts about you, no less. Not on purpose, of course. It just… happened. 

Against his will. Completely unfair.

Meanwhile, you were already talking again, hands gesturing as you rambled. “Listen, I need your full, undivided attention because I have very important news.” You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice like you were about to drop some life-altering information.

Sol, still mildly annoyed but intrigued despite himself, gave you a blank stare. “…What.”

You grinned. “I’m now a party planner with one of my closest friends. He’s the host of this upcoming Halloween party, wanted my insight since, you know…”

Sol’s face remained impressively neutral. “...Okay?”

You gasped, like he had just insulted your entire existence. “Okay?! That’s all you have to say?! Do you even know what this means?”

“It means I should probably prepare for a disaster,” he deadpanned.

“Excuse you,” you huffed. “This is going to be legendary. The Halloween party of the century.” You sighed, “Spooky. Chaotic. Unforgettable. I will be designing an experience that will haunt everyone for therest of their lives.”

Sol raised an eyebrow. “...So, a disaster.”

You crossed your arms, “Good parties always lead to disaster that’s how you have fun—oh I’m sorry, you never got invited to parties, Mr. Lonely. Says the one-that-only-has-one fucking-friend in their life.” You added, playfully teasing.No personally, I meant that.

Sol rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated groan. “Okay and? Tell me how did this ‘friend’ of yours manage to rope you into this mess, exactly?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Like I said, he needed my Halloween expertise, you know since Halloween is like my whole vibe.” You gestured vaguely at yourself like it was obvious.

Sol gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering a bit longer than necessary. Then he shook his head with that typical, bemused look. “Yeah, no kidding. You dress like a witch all year round, it only makes sense.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Excuse you. And what about you, Mr. Basement Dweller? You’re practically one mood away from turning into a permanent shadow, always sitting in the back of the class as per usual.” You mentioned that you and he are currently sitting at the back of the class.

His lips twitched in an almost smile, but he shot you a deadpan glare. “Basement dweller? That’s your go-to insult?”

“Oh, am I wrong?” you teased, leaning back with a smirk.

Sol let out another theatrical sigh, shaking his head like he was somehow disappointed in you. “And here I thought we were building a solid foundation of mutual respect.”

“You thought wrong,” you said smoothly, resting your chin on your hand, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “But seriously, you should come to the party. I’ll even let you sulk in the darkest corner like the brooding emo you are.”

He gave you a look that could only be described as deadpan, followed by a dismissive click of his tongue. “I’ll think about it.”

You grinned, leaning forward just a bit. “That’s the closest thing to a ‘yes’ I’m ever gonna get from you, huh?”

Sol muttered something under his breath, clearly trying to pretend he wasn’t intrigued, but the faintest ghost of a smirk betrayed him. 

Yeah, he was definitely thinking about it.

Later, the soft hum of students murmuring over their own art projects faded into the background as your attention snapped back to your half-finished piece. The assignment was straightforward—create something abstract that conveyed either movement or emotion. Simple enough.

Sol, however, was lost in his own world. Beside you, his sleeves pushed up, charcoal smudges marking his fingers, working with that same detached intensity that had defined your first partnered project.

The only sounds between you were the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an odd, unspoken feeling hanging in the air. A quiet tension that you couldn’t quite place.

He paused for a moment, fingers hovering in mid-air, and despite yourself, you glanced up. He wasn’t focused on the work anymore.

“…How much to get in?”

You blinked, taking a few seconds to process the question before finally looking up, caught off guard. “For what?”

Sol didn’t look up, his hand moving slowly and deliberately over the paper as he continued sketching. "For the Halloween party." His tone was neutral, like it didn’t really matter, but the way his fingers tightened around the pencil suggested otherwise.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you actually interested in going?”

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing just a fraction before he finally glanced at you. "Just asking," he muttered, quickly diverting his gaze back to the paper.

Then amusement flickering across your face. “You don’t seem like the type to care about university parties.”

“I don’t,” he admitted, finally setting his pencil down and meeting your gaze fully. “But you’re helping plan it…”

That stopped you in your tracks. Someone was actually interested in your party, unlike a certain someone. The way Sol said it so plainly, without teasing or deflecting, was strange—like it was simply a fact. No hidden meaning.

Sol looked away for a second, rubbing at the back of his neck, fingers smudging charcoal on his skin. You noticed the faint bruises there, ones that lingered around his neck and lower waist, the kind that showed when his shirt lifted just slightly, only for him to quickly pull it back down.

You never questioned it, though. 

You had a feeling those marks weren’t from accidents, they were from bullies of course. You’d seen him at the infirmary too many times to think otherwise. The school always offered help and therapy, but it felt like nothing ever came of it. University Olympus didn’t really care about anyone who wasn’t rich or connected.

"You look like someone who actually knows horror," he muttered, still not meeting your eyes. "Not just cheap jump scares and plastic skeletons." His fingers twitched slightly before dropping back to the table. "If you're the one making it, then it might actually be... worth going."

A small sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it—nothing mocking, just amused, warm, maybe even a little surprised. 

"So that’s why you’re asking."

Sol stiffened, and for the first time since you'd met him, you noticed the flush of red creeping up his neck, dusting his cheeks. He huffed, quickly turning back to his drawing like it would shield him from your reaction. 

"Forget it."

But you didn’t. You could never. "No, no. I’ll make sure to send you a free ticket." You waved your hand nonchalantly before pulling out your phone.

Sol didn’t say anything back, but you caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

He definitely appreciated it, especially when it came from you.

As the art class ended, the usual shuffle of students packing up their supplies filled the room. Others rushed out the door to either get home or catch the last few minutes of the dining hall's late hours.

The sounds of chairs scraping against the floor and muted conversations about upcoming deadlines echoed in the background. The sky outside had begun its slow descent into dusk, streaks of orange and purple bleeding into the horizon. You and Sol stepped out of the art building, the cool autumn air settling against your skin.

You pulled out your phone to check the time, and a thought crossed your mind. "Sol," you called.

He quickly turned his head, and you noticed how he always did that whenever you called his name. "Yes?"

"I won’t be able to walk with you to class, or from it, for the next few days," you mentioned, feeling a slight pang of regret. "This party planning's eating up my time. I’ll finish my part of the project later this week so I won’t forget."

Sol didn’t respond right away, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he walked beside you, the gravel crunching underfoot. After a beat, he said, “I can finish it for you.”

You blinked, glancing at him. “What?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed ahead as though the offer wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. “Your part. I can finish it for you.”

That threw you off. Again. You weren't the type to leave someone hanging like that, especially not on a project that was worth a significant chunk of your grade. While you trusted your own skills, handing it off to someone else—even someone as skilled as Sol—felt... odd.

“I don’t know…” You frowned slightly, adjusting the strap of your bag. “It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, but I usually handle my own work. I don’t like slacking off, even if it’s something small.”

Sol exhaled through his nose, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m not saying you’re slacking. You already did most of it.” He glanced at you then, his eyes sharper than before. “I just get it.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes slightly as you tried to process his words. “Get what?”

Sol's response was almost automatic. "You," he said simply, his tone flat, like it was an obvious thing. Then, just as quickly, a faint flush of red crept up his neck, and he looked away, clearly a little caught off guard. 

“I-I meant, your style." You noticed the shift in his demeanor, the way he hesitated before continuing. “The way you layer shadows, the details you focus on—it’s something I can learn from. Won’t take me more than an hour, maybe a day at most.”

His voice, though still steady, held a quiet certainty that you couldn’t quite place. There was no arrogance this time, no challenge. It wasn’t about proving he could do it better. It was just… different. 

He wanted to learn from you, wanted to understand your approach.

And that, for some reason, felt strange.

You studied him for a moment, the words lingering between you like a question. There was an odd intimacy in the idea of someone else taking over your work—something about it felt too personal, too close. The thought of it made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t fully explain.

But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just the offer. You had sensed something else before—how his gaze always seemed to follow you, how his attention lingered longer than it should. There was an intensity to it, something beneath the surface that you couldn’t ignore. You always kept it at the back of your mind, locked away and left unspoken, but it was there.

You shook it off, focusing back on his offer, trying to suppress that tight feeling in your chest. “Nah, I can complete it,” you said, brushing off the unease as best as you could.

Sol shrugged nonchalantly, though his gaze flicked back to you, a quiet understanding settling between you. “Suit yourself.”

You both started walking, the cool air tugging at the strands of your hair, and the quiet hum of the campus seemed to pulse with life in the stillness between you. As you walked, Sol’s pace slowed, and his gaze flickered briefly to the ground, a subtle shift that made you catch it—something in him had changed. You barely noticed, but you did.

“Are you heading home?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was something sharp beneath it, like a blade wrapped in velvet.

You shook your head, feeling that familiar prickling unease at the back of your neck. “No. Crowe still needs help with the party planning. There’s a ton to do, and he’s counting on me.”

Sol’s expression faltered for a split second. His lips tightened, his jaw clenching slightly as if something inside him had shifted. “So this friend of yours is Crowe, huh?” he asked, his voice more strained than you expected. His eyes narrowed just enough for you to catch it, but not enough to make it obvious.

You noticed the tension in his voice, and it made the air between you feel thicker. “Yeah… He’s my friend. I’m helping him out. The party’s important to him, so I promised I’d help,” you said, trying to keep things light, but the back of your mind nagged at you. There was something in his tone, something that hinted at more than just casual curiosity.

For a moment, Sol didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the ground, and you could almost see the thoughts churning behind his eyes. The silence between you stretched longer than it should have, until Sol finally muttered, quieter now, as if he was sorting through his thoughts.

“Right,” he said, his voice almost hesitant.

His shoulders slumped slightly, as if trying to make himself smaller, more distant. “I’ll… I’ll take you home afterward, then.”

You blinked, surprised by the offer. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out. Also, I was thinking… I might send you a ticket or two for the party, in case you’ve got someone to bring along—maybe a date?” You teased lightly, the smile on your lips almost automatic, but the flutter in your chest lingered, a feeling you couldn’t shake.

For a moment, Sol’s gaze shifted to you, his brow furrowing, lips pressing into a tight line. In that fleeting second, you caught a flash of irritation before he masked it again. “I’ll go. But a date is out of the question for someone like me. Hyugo will come with me,” he said, his tone calm, clipped.

He glanced at you then, his gaze softer, almost uncertain, and the shift didn’t go unnoticed. It was like he was wrestling with something internally, and it made you uneasy, though you couldn't quite place why.

The silence stretched between you as you both continued walking, the hum of campus fading into the background. Sol seemed lost in thought, distant, until he spoke again, his voice breaking the quiet like a sudden ripple in calm water.

“Hey,” Sol called out, his tone casual, but now there was something unsteady in it. You stopped, turning back to face him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity at the shift in his voice.

“Do you, uh, like him?”

Sol asked, his words almost hesitant, like they slipped out before he could stop them. His gaze was steady, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a slight tension that made your pulse quicken just a little. It was almost as if he was fishing for something, but you couldn't quite place what.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze—the sounds of the campus, the distant chatter of students, the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The world fell away as you processed his question, a weight settling in the pit of your stomach. “What now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice level as low as possible. "Who are you referring to?"

Sol shifted, his eyes not quite meeting yours as he said, "Your friend, Crowe..." His voice dropped lower, the words hanging between you like an unanswered question. The air around you seemed to hum with an unspoken tension, and you could feel it in your chest—a tightening you couldn’t ignore.

You side-eyed him, trying to process what was happening, and why his question seemed to carry more weight than it should. "Why are you asking such a question?" you asked, crossing your arms defensively, trying to push back against the uncomfortable feeling creeping in.

Sol hesitated for a beat, his fingers curling into fists before he forced himself to relax them. "Just cause," he muttered, his eyes avoiding yours just a moment too long. Then, he looked at you again, his gaze almost sad now, like he was waiting for something. 

"What do you think of him?"

You blinked, feeling an unfamiliar heat rush to your skin. "I mean... shit, he's my friend," you said slowly, trying to make sense of why he was asking this, why it felt so strange. 

Sol's jaw tightened visibly, but he quickly masked it with a shrug, his usual cool demeanor slipping back into place. "Do you like him or not?” His voice held an edge like he was pushing for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

You didn’t answer immediately, unsure of how to even begin. 

The question felt... invasive, almost too personal like he was probing into something that wasn’t his business. Instead, you looked away, crossing your arms as if that could shield you from whatever he was looking for.

"Okay," you said, almost dismissively. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the words hung between you. “Since you want my answer so badly…” You paused, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t really feel... anything for Crowe. He’s just a close friend, that’s all I’ll say.”

It felt strange to say it out loud, but the truth was simple—your relationships with people weren’t complicated in the way most people seemed to be. You didn’t get the rush of excitement, the butterflies, the desire to be close to someone in that way. 

That wasn’t something you’d ever felt. 

Crowe was just someone you gave pity to be friends with, like now, someone who needed help with the party planning. Nothing more. And it wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate him as a friend—he’s trusting and reliable—but your feelings didn’t go beyond that.

There was a flicker in Sol’s eyes as he processed your words, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he just gave you a small nod, as if satisfied with your answer. The silence between you stretched, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t look back at him.

And then, almost as if on cue, Sol spoke again, his voice a little too casual, like he was trying to mask whatever it was he was really thinking. 

“So… do you like anyone else, then?”

What the fuck. You paused, taken aback. Another question seemed so out of left field. You weren’t someone who spent time thinking about relationships or feelings, and honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind in ages. You shrugged nonchalantly, the weight of his question still lingering like an itch you couldn’t scratch. “I don’t know,” you said, the answer rolling off your tongue with little care. 

"It’s not something I really think about, honestly."

It wasn’t a lie. You’d never really put much thought into who you were supposed to like, who you were supposed to want, or any of that typical nonsense people obsessed over. You had a type, theoretically, sure. You knew what attributes you were ‘supposed’ to like. But, you never actually fell for someone with those qualities. Maybe it was just the concept of attraction that you understood, but the actual feeling? 

That was still foreign to you.

Oh my god, thinking about it made your brain spiral. What did attract you? You could only pinpoint superficial stuff, like how someone looked, or how clean and put-together they were. That sounded so shallow, but it was the damn truth.

You liked people you got along with. That was it. That was all.

The idea of attraction—how people acted on it—wasn’t just distant. It hurt to think about. The obsessive thoughts started crawling into your brain, uninvited, picking apart every little thing. The more you thought, the more it didn’t make sense. The more your head started to pound, the more everything became a blur of unrealistic expectations that didn’t fit you, didn’t interest you. It had never made sense, not the way it seemed to for everyone else.

You clenched your jaw, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was like trying to hold back a flood with your bare hands. Ugh, this was too much. Just thinking about it made your head hurt too much. So much unwanted noise.

You frowned deeply, shaking off the thoughts, but the irritation still lingered. 

For Sol to be thinking about you… liking someone… well, that was a different story entirely. 

The more you dwelled on it, the more uncomfortable it felt. 

Like he was pressing you into a space that wasn’t yours to occupy. Why was he asking you these questions? What did it matter to him who you liked or didn’t like? The thoughts didn’t stop, though. They lingered.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Sol’s gaze shifted when you gave your answer. The way he seemed almost... invested in your response. It left a bad taste in your mouth like there was something you were missing, something obvious he wasn’t saying, but the longer you thought about it, the stranger it felt.

Sol didn’t press further after that. Instead, he fell into silence, his expression unreadable as he stared ahead, lost in his thoughts.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about who Sol meant, Crowe. You couldn’t stop thinking about how easily you and Crowe interacted, how natural it was for you two to fall into a rhythm. He was one of the few people who didn’t overwhelm your brain. 

Sol had been watching that dynamic, hadn’t he? 

And it irked him. That much was clear. The way Crowe smiled—effortless, easy. The way his eyes always seemed to be calculating something, like he was always two steps ahead of everyone else. That cool, confident air Crowe carried around—it grated on Sol in ways he couldn’t fully explain.

He wasn’t jealous—It wasn’t about that. But something about the way you and Crowe meshed... it made something inside of Sol twist, in a way he couldn’t control, couldn’t understand.

But he kept all of that to himself, kept the thoughts buried deep.

You were your own person. Whatever dynamic you had with Crowe, it wasn’t his place to question. He tried to remind himself of that, even if it didn’t sit quite right.

But damn, watching you and Crowe together—how effortless it seemed, how naturally you both slipped into your own little world—it gnawed at Sol in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t immediate, but over time, every time he saw the two of you together, something dark twisted in his gut. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he could feel it now, creeping under his skin like a slow-burning ache.

It wasn’t about Crowe—not really.

It was you. 

How much of your attention he commanded, how easily you gave it to him, how little was left for anyone else. For Sol. It made him want to pull you back, to demand that you notice him the way you noticed Crowe.

The frustration burned in his chest, a familiar acid, but he buried it. He told himself it was nothing, just a fleeting feeling. Yet, every time you laughed with Crowe, every time he saw the two of you deep in conversation, Sol couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of something ugly stir inside him.

Fuck it. Sol was jealous.

Lost in the clamor of his thoughts, Sol barely registered the sudden force that knocked you off balance, halting your steps beside him. His body tensed, irritation flaring instantly as his eyes snapped to the figure responsible.

Geo. That smug, silent bastard.

Geo’s grip on your arm was firm—possessive, yet controlled, his fingers pressing just enough to make it clear you weren’t slipping away from him so easily. His gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unreadable.

“I was calling your name.” His voice was steady, but there was something unmistakably demanding beneath it.

You exhaled sharply, yanked out of your thoughts by the sudden tug. His hold wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t exactly gentle either—it was the kind of grip that left no room for argument.

“Well, damn. Hello to you too, Geo,” you muttered, irritation flickering in your voice as you glanced at where his hand still held you.

Sol stood still, his eyes narrowed as he followed Geo’s actions, though he seemed completely oblivious to the stir he caused. What made Sol’s blood boil, however, was the way Geo’s gaze flicked down at you, lingering just a fraction too long.

Sol’s jaw tightened, in frustration. He wanted to close the gap between you and Geo, wanted to do something, anything, to put some distance between you two, but he forced himself to remain still, the pressure of his feelings simmering just beneath the surface. He took a half-step forward, his voice cool but edged with an unmistakable hint of concern. 

“You okay?” His eyes scanned you, looking for any sign of discomfort, something that would give him a reason to intervene.

Before you could respond, Geo’s hand landed on your head, ruffling your hair in a slow, almost patronizing motion, pushing it back and forth like you were some distracted kid. “You need to stop letting your thoughts take over. It’s all over your damn face.”

Sol’s muscles tensed, irritation prickling under his skin. The sight of Geo touching you—so casually, so familiar—sent a sharp surge of frustration through him. His fingers twitched at his side, the urge to shove Geo’s hand away clawing at his chest.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t even react.

Instead, you reached up, fingers curling around Geo’s wrist in a quiet but firm grip, stopping him from shaking you any further. There was no aggression in your touch, just a steady, silent plea for him to quit it. “I’m aware,” you muttered, exhaling through your nose. “Shit, did something happen?”

Geo didn’t move, his hand still resting in yours, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. His sharp gaze locked onto yours, unwavering—as if Sol wasn’t even there.

“Jericho says you’re late,” Geo stated flatly, his voice carrying its usual indifference. “He needs your help with the party. Told me to pick you up after class.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing. “Really? Why you?”

Geo shrugged, unconcerned. “Be grateful I agreed, or you’d be walking.” His hand slipped from yours as he took a step back, already turning to leave. He didn’t bother with another word—just a glance over his shoulder at Sol, a brief, knowing look that said more than words ever could. “I’ll be waiting ahead when you’re done talking to your…” His eyes flickered to Sol, annoyance barely concealed in his expression before he continued on his way.

You let out a frustrated sigh, irritated by the lack of help from Geo, but knowing there was little you could do to change it. As Geo walked off, you turned back to Sol, trying to piece together what had just happened.

"Right, just so you know, that’s Subaru Oogami. AKA Geo, Crowe’s supposed best friend," you explained, your tone casual, as if what he’d just done was nothing out of the ordinary. 

You could tell from the look on Sol’s face that he was confused—probably wondering how you could treat that behavior as if it meant nothing. To be honest, you knew Geo well enough to know he wasn’t the type to hurt you, and as long as someone was friends with Crowe, you figured you could trust them. 

But that was unnecessary to mention, so you didn’t.

Sol’s eyes narrowed, still tracking Geo’s retreating figure. Something was simmering beneath the surface, a flicker of something uncomfortably possessive in the way his jaw clenched. “Him, huh?” he muttered, trying to mask the chill in his voice, but it was obvious he was unsettled.

“Ah, right, I’ve heard of him. A strict rich guy from that high society, right?”

You scoff softly, though it comes out strained as you look away. The awkward tension between you two was building, and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “You could say that. But he’s harmless. Just…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain without defending Geo too much. It wasn’t like you had to explain yourself to Sol, anyway.

“He’s like that with everyone. Don’t read too much into it.”

Sol wasn’t convinced. 

His eyes didn’t leave the spot where Geo had stood ahead, his focus still locked on him, like he was trying to figure out something deeper he couldn’t grasp. His voice dropped, taking on a more measured tone, but there was still a sharpness to it. “I see,” he muttered, but it felt loaded with something unspoken. Like he was holding back, processing more than he was letting on.

You sensed it, too—the odd moment hanging between you. You tried to defuse it, rolling your eyes, “Soo, anyway, I really have to go. Or Crowe will get my ass again.” You shrugged and gave him a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “See you later. Don’t get too caught up in your art thing.”

Just as you turned to walk away, Sol’s voice rang out, “Wait.”

You froze, his tone pulling you back. Before you could fully react, Sol had taken a step closer, his hand reaching out, about to grip your shoulder. The motion was quick, but you pulled back instinctively, creating space between you two. 

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze with an arched brow, silently asking, “What is it?”

Sol’s eyes somewhat widened, something almost reluctant, before he pulled his hand back, looking at you with a mix of frustration and pity. “Uh, Nothing,” Sol said, his voice tight, the moment of tension hanging in the air between you both. “Just... take care.”

With that, he stepped back, his expression unreadable. You gave him a nod, flashing another teasing smile, hoping to ease the tension still lingering in the air. “Okay, I’ll expect to see you at the party.” Your tone was light, casual—like nothing had shifted between you.

But as you turned on your heel and started walking away, Sol didn’t move. He stayed rooted in place, his gaze locked onto your back, watching the way you made your way toward Geo without hesitation.

His fingers curled slightly at his sides, a quiet frustration settling deep in his chest. He watched the way Geo barely had to say anything before you fell into step beside him, the way the space between you felt so natural—so practiced.

Sol exhaled sharply, jaw tightening.

You didn’t even glance back.

His mind raced with thoughts of what had just happened. 

You didn’t let him touch you… but you let Crowe—Mr. perfect hold your hands all the time. Hell, even that smug asshole Geo had touched your head and your hands, yet you didn’t let Sol so much as touch your shoulder?

Fuck… He pushed his chance too early. 

Then Sol’s eyes widen suddenly locked with Geo’s. When Geo glanced back at him, it was subtle, but Sol caught it—a quick sweep of his eyes, sharp and knowing.

A warning.

Sol had heard a bit about Geo from Hyugo, though Hyugo barely talked about him. When he did, it was always cryptic, like there was more going on with Geo than anyone realized.

The one thing Sol knew for sure was that those two were brothers.

As you walked beside Geo, Sol couldn’t help but notice how Geo’s sharp eyes never stopped scanning, constantly absorbing everything around him while you spoke, not really looking at him—more like explaining yourself, knowing he could hear you from that distance. 

“I need to be careful around him,” Sol thought to himself, his pulse quickening with frustration.

It gnawed at him, the feeling that Geo knew exactly what he was doing—keeping your attention locked firmly on Crowe. 

It was maddening.

The way Geo so effortlessly positioned himself between you and Sol, like a silent, immovable wall, made his blood boil. It was too perfect, too deliberate, and worst of all...

You didn’t seem to mind. Not one bit.

"Seriously, Geo," you started, your voice cutting through the quiet as the two of you walked side by side. The only sound between you was the faint rustling of leaves underfoot, the crisp evening air settling around you. 

You shot him an exasperated look, brows furrowed. "Did you have to be that rude to Sol back there? You could’ve at least said hi instead of… whatever that was."

Geo, unsurprisingly, didn’t even glance your way. His posture remained as indifferent as ever, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders relaxed, exuding that same effortless disinterest. He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated motion, the very picture of unbothered.

"Why would I bother?" His tone was flat, dismissive. "It’s not like he’s important. Just some emo lame-ass."

You let out a sharp sigh, resisting the growing urge to shove him. "Geo," you warned, irritation creeping into your voice. "You don’t have to like him, but could you at least try to be civil?"

Geo, as expected, didn’t dignify that with a response. His expression remained unreadable, gaze fixed ahead like he had all the time in the world. His silence only made your frustration simmer more—how effortlessly detached he always was, how little anything seemed to faze him.

The two of you stepped into the campus parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath your shoes. The night air carried a sharp chill, but Geo, as always, seemed completely unfazed—so much so that you almost entertained the funny idea that he must be cold-blooded. Heh. Wouldn’t be surprising.

The dim glow of the flickering streetlights reflected off his car’s sleek, freshly painted black exterior, its polished surface gleaming under the occasional passing headlights. A perfect match for the man leaning against it—unapproachable, unreadable, and utterly composed.

Without a word, Geo moved ahead of you, his steps fluid and deliberate as he reached the passenger side door. There was nothing particularly chivalrous about the way he opened it—no warmth, no grand gesture—just a smooth, effortless motion as if it was more out of habit than kindness.

Still, before stepping aside, he glanced over his shoulder, sharp gaze scanning the lot, the street beyond—checking for something. Or someone. His expression remained inscrutable, his piercing eyes flickering toward the empty road for only a fraction of a second before he moved back, allowing you to slide in.

Geo shut the door behind you with quiet finality. Again, no words. 

No unnecessary pleasantries.

You observed as he strolled around the front of the car, his hands in his pockets, his stride leisurely. The detached, cool confidence in his gait was something that never changed, regardless of the circumstances. As he made it to the driver's side, he slipped in without delay, the subtle aroma of cologne hanging on the interior.

Geo didn't say anything as he started the engine, the low rumble breaking the silence between you. The dashboard lights cast a pale blue glow over his face, highlighting the angularity of his jaw and the perpetual distance in his eyes.

With one hand on the steering wheel, he shifted the car into gear, his other hand resting casually against the window. The streets blurred past as he drove, his gaze fixed ahead, entirely focused on the road—or maybe lost in thought?

Again, you had always been good at reading people—effortlessly picking up on emotions, the subtle shifts in their expressions, the way their body language betrayed thoughts they hadn’t even voiced yet.

It was something you had learned young, a skill sharpened by necessity, whether to stay on someone’s good side or simply to understand them before they understood you. 

Most people were easy. Predictable. 

Their emotions—fear, joy, anger, love—bled through no matter how much they tried to suppress them.

Geo was different. He was like a book with half its pages torn out, again, an enigma wrapped in cold stares and dismissive words. No tells, no cracks, nothing to latch onto. He existed in a space just out of reach, like a shadow cast by something unseen.

And yet, when it was just the two of you, something is… different.

He wasn’t easier to read, not exactly, but there were moments—fleeting, barely noticeable—where you caught glimpses of something beneath the indifference. It was subtle, but it was there. 

A blessing and a curse.

Because it almost always made you overthink.

It was something you had done for as long as you could remember—analyzing, dissecting, obsessing over details most people wouldn’t even notice. Not because you wanted to, but because your mind wouldn’t let you stop. A cycle of over-awareness that had long since bled into something deeper, something you couldn’t quite turn off.

Your parents never noticed. They were too busy working to make sure you lived comfortably, too preoccupied to catch the way your thoughts spiraled, looping endlessly in a pattern you couldn’t break. 

You weren’t high-class, but you weren’t lower-class either—just somewhere in between, comfortable, stable.

Geo, on the other hand, had been high society. Until he wasn’t.

Crowe had mentioned it once, in passing. How Geo had struggled after being kicked out. How he had to help him adjust to a life outside of luxury, outside of the world he had once belonged to.

You never asked Geo about it.

Now, sitting beside him in his car, you didn’t need to.

You could see it.

Not visibly—Geo never made things obvious—but in the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly, in the sharpness of his eyes despite the tiredness behind them, in the way his back pressed against the seat like he was holding something in.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight. Too tight.

You shifted, turning your body slightly toward the passenger-side window, pretending to focus on something outside. In reality, you were watching him. Studying him.

Should you say something?

Should you ask him what’s wrong?

Or would he shut you out before you even had the chance?

The silence stretched between you, thick and weighted, the only sound filling the space was the low hum of the car’s engine. Your eyes remained on the window, you could feel Geo’s presence beside you—his controlled breathing, the tension in his posture, the way his fingers flexed just slightly against the wheel.

Then, his voice broke the quiet. Low, rough, but steady.

“You keep looking at me like that.”

You didn’t move right away. Just blinked. The words were casual, but his tone wasn’t. It wasn’t annoyed, wasn’t mocking—it was something else. Something unreadable, yet laced with that same quiet intensity he always carried.

Finally, you turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Like what?" you asked, feigning indifference.

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowed to a stop just a little way down from Crowe’s place, the car idling. His fingers tapped against the leather steering wheel—a slow, deliberate rhythm—before he exhaled, controlled as always. 

“You’ve been glancing at me for the past twenty minutes,” he muttered, voice as flat as ever. “Are you trying to pick me apart?”

You almost smirked. Almost. “Maybe I am.”

His expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—something brief, something you couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Annoyance? Maybe both. Geo scoffed quietly, tilting his head just a little, like he was debating whether or not to humor you. One hand stayed on the wheel, the other resting lazily on his thigh, completely at ease.

“For someone who calls me out for overanalyzing,” he said, voice flat, “you’re the biggest overthinker I know.”

Your brows furrowed, a small flicker of something sharp twisting in your chest. He wasn’t wrong, but hearing him say it—so plainly, so certain—made your stomach tighten.

You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms. "And you’re avoiding the question."

This time, he actually smirked. Just a little. The kind of expression that barely counted, but for Geo, it was practically a full reaction.

"Maybe I am." Your own words are thrown back at you. Fuck.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but before you could respond, Geo turned to face you completely. His gaze wasn’t distant anymore—wasn’t cold—it was sharp, focused, and something about it made your skin prickle.

He studied you for a moment, his eyes like a scalpel, then, almost as an afterthought, he spoke.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but before you could respond, Geo turned, fully looking at you now. His gaze wasn’t distant anymore, wasn’t cold—it was sharp, focused, and something about it made your skin prickle.

Geo studied you for a moment longer, then, almost as an afterthought, he spoke.

"You never shut your brain off, do you?"

You raised an eyebrow, already on edge. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he veered the car toward the curb, the tires rolling over gravel before he threw it in park on the side of the street. The sudden stop made the silence louder—thick and heavy.

His lips curled into a sharp, almost condescending smirk.

"It means you’re too caught up in your head." His tone was flat but laced with irritation. "You’ve got that party planned with Jericho, all the shit you’ve stacked on your plate—and yet you can’t see the problem. You’re blind."

A bitter chuckle escaped him as he leaned back slightly, arms crossed like he was preparing for a fight. "You really think it’s fine to just go—like everything’s normal? Like you can control everything around you?"

His voice sharpened, and when he looked at you again, it was with that signature, cold-eyed disdain.

“You’re delusional.”

Your stomach flipped, and you clenched your jaw, again completely thrown off by his words. You had no idea what the hell made him say that, is this what he was thinking about while driving? Anyway, something in you couldn’t just let it slide? Right? Impossible. 

You pushed back, curiosity getting the best of you. “I’m not delusional,” you muttered, voice tight.

"You are." His voice was low, and steady, like he was explaining something painfully obvious. 

"You don’t see what’s right in front of your face. Which is crazy for an overthinker, you should’ve seen it.” He sighed, the space between you suddenly feeling too small. "You’ve got all these people circling you, and you can’t even tell that one of them is obsessed with you."

Your eyes widened in disbelief, heart pounding in your chest.

"Stay home. Stay with me, or just stay the hell out of that mess. Just don’t go to that damn party. Tell Jericho you’re sick or—"

"No," you interrupted, voice steadier than you felt. "I’m going."

Geo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. For a split second, frustration flickered across his face, but then it twisted into something darker, more bitter. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his eyes cold.

“You’re a fucking waste of brain matter, you know that?”

Your stomach dropped, but you didn’t back down.

“All this damn time, I thought you were different. I thought you actually had some fucking potential. But no. You’re just like every other idiot who always comes up to me, the same ones who think they have a damn chance with me.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, cutting more profound than anything you’d ever expected. You froze, unable to hide the hurt as it twisted inside you.

“You don’t have a clue what you’re getting into,” Geo went on, his voice thick with disdain. “You’re so wrapped up in your stupid head and pride that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. This whole ‘I’ve got it all figured out’ act? It’s pathetic.”

He scoffed, his lips curling in disdain as he finished.

“You’re fucking pathetic.”

You stayed quiet, your chest heavy with the weight of his words. They echoed in your mind, louder than anything else. Shit—you shouldn’t push anything… like damn. The sting, the sharpness of it, burned deep. You tried to breathe, but it felt like something was stuck in your chest, choking you.

You wanted to snap back. You wanted to tell him to shut up, throw something back at him like you always did—but no words came. 

There was nothing.

Who would’ve thought that he saw it too? The weakness… 

The parts of you that you worked so hard to hide. It hurt more than you cared to admit. You thought you could handle it—hell, you always handled things—but this... again, this was different. This was Geo everyone that talked about, someone you never imagined would rip through your walls like that. His words weren’t just rude—they were calculated like he wanted to see how much he could break you.

Geo watched you, waiting for you to speak, but you couldn’t. Not yet. Not when you felt like you were on the verge of cracking. The silence dragged on, thick, suffocating. Finally, you forced the words out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I’m still going to that party. No matter what you say." You could feel his frustration building before he even spoke, his jaw tight and his fists gripping the wheel as if holding himself back.

“Fine, be a damn idiot,” he sneered, “Don’t say no one—”

"Fuck you, Geo." The words shot out like a bullet, sharp and bitter, and you didn’t even try to stop them. 

"I’m not staying home or with you. I’m going," you spat, your voice steadier now, but your chest felt tight from the sting of his words, still burning through you like acid.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You turned your head just enough to throw one last cutting glance his way, your words coming faster now, "I don’t need your pity, Geo. Don’t bother showing up to the damn party. That’s all you could’ve said, but no—you had to go full-on asshole, like always."

You saw the flicker of something cross his face, something you couldn’t quite name. It felt damn good—like for once, you were finally getting under his skin.

You sighed, your voice growing heavier. "You’re such damn pessimistic all the time. Don’t be mad at me because I actually want to have a little optimism. We only get one shot at this life, you know? Sure, we might be seen as lower class, but that doesn’t mean we can’t live it out and make something of it.”

You let that flicker grow into a sharp, mocking smirk.  

"Everyone’s right about you… You’re just some smug asshole to everyone. Anyone but Crowe." You snorted, shaking your head. "Like you won’t show respect to anyone unless they’re bending over backward just to earn a sliver of your attention." 

You took a breath, steadying your voice even as the weight in your chest tightened.

"I listened to Crowe, you know. When everyone else told me to leave you the hell alone, that you weren’t worth the trouble—I didn’t. He told me you were worth trying for. That under all the sharp edges and venom, there was something real." 

You looked at Geo, jaw clenched. 

"So I pushed past your rudeness, your walls, your cold, condescending bullshit. I held myself strong to talk to you sometimes—because I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why those simpering idiots were always swooning over you like you were some prize to be won." 

Your voice lowered, bitter.

"They never even knew you. They never gave a damn about how you actually think or feel. They just loved the image, the fantasy. But I—I actually made the effort. I learned who you were. I tried to be your friend, even when you made it nearly impossible."

You paused, your gaze hard and unwavering.

"And you still lumped me in with them. You really think I ever saw you the way they did? That I ever put you on some pedestal like you’re some untouchable god?"

You shook your head slowly.

"You must be out of your damn mind."

You turned your head just enough to look at him one last time. You refused to let him see how much it was hurting you—how his words had gotten under your skin, how they twisted everything you thought you knew about him.

The silence that followed was thick with everything you weren’t saying. Geo’s posture was rigid, his jaw set, but you could see the shift in him—the moment his walls snapped shut. 

He didn’t say anything. 

And that was good enough for you. 

You threw the passenger door open and stepped out without hesitation. The slam of the door behind you echoed with finality—loud, sharp, and unapologetic. You didn’t look back.

Screw it. Screw his expensive car, his cold stares, his bullshit attitude. You didn’t care what he felt anymore—if he even felt anything at all. You were sick of trying to guess, sick of trying to prove yourself to someone who refused to see you.

He wasn’t going to control you. 

Not your plans, not your night, not your damn heart.

Your footsteps hit the pavement hard as you headed up toward Crowe’s house. There was weight in every step, but also something else—a kind of clarity, a sharpness cutting through the fog. The ache in your chest didn’t vanish, but it settled. 

Became something you could carry without breaking.

You were done. Truly done.

You spent the last few weeks of October wrapped in party planning with Crowe and his far more tolerable, socially functional friends. Between costume designs, playlists, and coordinating food runs, you stayed busy—meticulously so. 

Obsessively, if you were honest with yourself. Every little detail had to be perfect. Every task had to be just right. It kept your hands full, your mind somewhat quiet.

But no matter how much you tried to bury yourself in logistics and glitter, Geo still haunted the back of your thoughts like a splinter you couldn’t tweeze out.

Why him?

Why was he so compelling to you?

It wasn’t attraction, not in the way others meant it. You knew yourself too well for that. You weren’t yearning for some romantic happily-ever-after or anything as messily complicated as sex. No, it was something deeper and much harder to name—something primal and cerebral all at once.

You didn’t really know Geo. Not personally.

Not in the way that counted. And maybe that was part of the reason you couldn’t stop circling back to him like your mind was caught in a loop it couldn’t break. That sense of tension, of unresolved something between you both—it lingered, heavy and unfinished.

You told yourself it was just curiosity. You’d studied him like a puzzle, tried to map out the jagged edges of his personality, chipped away at the walls he kept so deliberately high. You thought if you pushed hard enough, and reached far enough, you might finally understand what it was that pulled you to him despite everything telling you to turn away.

Maybe, just maybe, you had hoped there was something mutual buried underneath all that cold, arrogant silence.

But then again… maybe not.

Geo was an enigma—emotionally locked down, guarded in a way that felt almost strategic. Maybe even cruel. You weren’t even sure he understood himself, let alone whatever this weird, intangible bond between you two was. And it was never about fear of rejection. 

That would have been easier. Cleaner.

No, what terrified you more was the ambiguity.

Was it just one-sided intensity on your part? Was it some projection, some need to feel seen by the one person who refused to be easily figured out?

You hated not knowing.

Not being able to label it, define it, solve it.

And like clockwork, the quiet moments became the most unbearable.

Your thoughts didn’t settle—they spiraled. Repeating, rearranging, recalculating. You’d catch yourself organizing the same party checklist over and over again, rewriting the guest list, recounting the plates, double—no, triple—checking the labels like it was the only thing holding your world in place. The tiniest details suddenly felt urgent, like if you didn’t get them exactly right, something worse might slip through the cracks.

Because if you control that maybe you could drown out the ache.

The ache of not knowing what the hell Geo meant to you anymore.

Ever since the argument—sharp words exchanged like knives behind closed car doors—you hadn’t spoken to each other beyond the bare minimum. A few clipped greetings. One-word replies. Careful silences. You weren’t even sure anyone else in the group knew what had happened between you two. 

At least, you hoped not.

You told yourself, even now, that all you ever wanted was to be his friend. That was safer. Simpler. Honest enough.

But being around Geo always felt like walking a tightrope strung across a minefield—one wrong step, one wrong look, and you were done. Every conversation felt like holding your breath, waiting for the inevitable shutdown. Waiting for him to pull away again.

And then there was the weight of everything that came with him.

Lunchtime on campus made it worse—sitting on the cracked stone benches in the courtyard, the sun catching on chrome thermoses and gossip-laced grins. Geo never said much, barely touched his food, just sat there with his arms crossed while the world leaned in around him.

People watched him like he was something more than human—untouchable, unknowable. They hung off his every word even when he looked too tired to speak. And God, he was tired. You could see it in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, the subtle twitch of annoyance when someone got too close.

Still, they hovered—those simpering idiots who trailed behind him like moths to a cold flame. Smiling too hard. Laughing too loud. Guarding the fantasy they’d built of him with something that felt close to reverence. They worshipped from a distance and tore into anyone who got too close.

You weren’t one of them. You never had been. You didn’t want to be.

But something inside you still reached—aching, grasping, quietly, stubbornly.

You knew better. Always had.

And yet here you were… pretending it didn’t matter. Pretending that raw thing you felt—that hollow, sharp, impossible thing in your chest—wasn’t real. Just a trick of proximity. Just curiosity.

But you knew it wasn’t curiosity.

It wasn’t love, not in the traditional sense. Not romantic, not sexual. Just something real. Something you couldn't name but couldn't ignore. 

Something yours.

And maybe it was easier to keep pushing it down.

But how much longer could you do that?

How much longer before it started to swallow you whole?

You didn’t have an answer. All you had was the countdown in your chest—and it hit zero faster than you expected.

The Halloween party had arrived.

What once felt like some distant event, a plan scrawled in notebooks and smoothed over in too many group chats, was suddenly real. Immediate. Inevitable.

The university buzzed with anticipation—half-baked costume decisions, whispered hookups, people making last-minute runs for glitter, masks, and fake blood. The energy in the air clung to everything like static, sharp, and waiting to snap.

And at the center of it all… was you.

You and Crowe hadn’t just thrown a party—you’d curated an experience. A spectacle. And it showed. His family’s house, already intimidating in its quiet wealth, had been reimagined under your hands as something cinematic. Unsettling. The kind of place that made people stop at the gate and take a breath before stepping in.

The lawn was a stage: flickering jack-o'-lanterns casting shifting light across the path, ghostly projections stitched into the siding, and fog machines hissing slow tendrils across the cobblestone-like creeping fingers. It looked haunted, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from.

Inside, it was worse in the best way—an exquisite kind of chaos, curated down to the last unnerving detail. Every corner was scrubbed, styled, and sharpened into something eerie and cinematic, like a fever dream with a guest list.

Cobwebs draped from antique chandeliers, casting spider-silk shadows across the vaulted ceilings. The rooms glowed with an otherworldly wash of sickly green and violet light, highlighting skeletal decorations curled around stair railings as they belonged there. 

Animatronics were spaced just far enough apart to lull people into a false sense of safety before jerking to life with mechanical shrieks and hollow eyes, making even the boldest students jump.

A fog machine hissed from some hidden corner, spilling thick mist across the hardwood floors and blurring everything into a surreal haze—nothing quite solid, nothing quite real.

Music throbbed through concealed speakers in every room. A mix of haunted remixes and high-energy basslines created a strange harmony—half rave, half séance. The sound wrapped around the crowd like a spell, pulling them deeper into the night.

The house was alive—choked with bodies and breath and artificial blood. Students pressed shoulder to shoulder in the crush of celebration, faces half-hidden behind masks, makeup, and shadows. Laughter rose like smoke. Screams echoed from the haunted hallway setups you’d helped build.

 And still, the night was just beginning.

You stood beside Crowe at the entrance, watching it all unfold. People lined up outside in the cold, either flashing last-minute tickets or raising phones with QR codes shimmering under flickering porch lights. You scanned them in, mechanical and composed, your mask in place.

Crowe was in his element—smiling that easy pretty prince smile, and talking easily with each individual who passed through. He worked the crowd like he owned it—which, in a way, he did, turning what could have been a chaotic check-in nightmare and making it smooth, almost seamless.

Sometimes, a person would fumble with their phone, attempting to pull up their ticket, and Crowe—charmer that he was—would lightly tease them before waving them in regardless. "Come on, don't make me regret this," he'd say, laughing in return.

It was effortless for him. Natural. And yet, as the line snaked down the driveway, the buzz of conversation and the pounding bass of the music lingering in the air, your mind started to drift.

You, though, weren't quite as swept up in the moment. Sure, you'd been a part of the planning, and on paper and as line, the night was supposed to be perfect.

But tonight?

Your mind was elsewhere. Not perfect. 

Somewhere far away.

You barely registered Crowe’s voice when he asked about your costume. Something about whether it was too tight, or if you were still comfortable. 

You didn’t really answer. But you thought about it.

Brittany had planned everyone’s costumes weeks ago, assigning them out like she was the director of a twisted stage play. She’d made Crowe dress as a prince—of course she did. 

It was almost too fitting with his deep blue eyes, long brown hair braided down his shoulder, and that easy confidence that made him look like royalty even without the costume. The dark velvet jacket, silver-stitched and regal, only cemented the image. He didn’t protest. He wore it like it was made for him.

Then you spotted them by the punch bowl—Jess and Brittany, standing close but radiating entirely different energies.

Brittany was already the center of attention, surrounded by people hanging on her every exaggerated laugh. She thrived there, in the thick of it, her voice sugary and slick, like honey laced with venom.

Her devil costume was unapologetically dramatic: a red corset dress that shimmered like sin, fishnet tights, thigh-high boots, and glittery horns that caught the light every time she turned her head. The tail? Real. Not literally—but it flicked behind her with every step like it had a mind of its own.

She moved like she owned the party like the floor should part for her heels. The way she looked at people—like they were either pawns or competition—fit the role a little too well.

Jess, in contrast, looked like she'd been dragged there by divine obligation. She stood just behind Brittany, an angel in soft white. Her dress was simple, flowy, ethereal in that gentle, untouched kind of way. White feathery wings sat neatly between her shoulder blades, a delicate halo perched above her head like it didn’t quite belong to her.

Very much Heaven and hell, playing nice—for now.

Naturally, Deryl had been shoved into a werewolf costume—if you could even call it that. He was half-shirtless, with fake fur strapped across his shoulders like an afterthought, plastic fangs barely clinging to his teeth, and clawed gloves that he kept using to dramatically rake through his hair. 

Honestly? It suited him way more than it should’ve.

He was mid-keg stand when you caught sight of him, legs flailing while two guys held him up and a crowd screamed like it was a full moon. His howl—somewhere between a frat bro and a dying animal—rattled through the house with zero shame.

Deryl didn’t need alcohol to act feral… but it definitely helped.

And then there was you.

Brittany had all but bullied you into dressing as what she lovingly dubbed a “sexy fine-ass cat”—in her words, “You already dress like a damn witch every day, babe. Spice it up. Be a mystical slut.”

You weren't sure what part of you gave off sexy feline energy, but apparently, your everyday vibe screamed witchy recluse turned seductive alley cat, and she was ready to roll with it.

Somehow, against all logic and reason, you had agreed. 

Possibly in a moment of sleep deprivation. Possibly under threat. Possibly because Brittany said if you didn’t wear the cat ears, she’d cry—and she looked dead serious about it. So now you stood at the glass front door, staring at your reflection like you were seeing a cursed mirror in a haunted house.

The dress wasn’t… bad. Honestly, it was hot. It was just… a lot.

It clung to you like it had plans and didn’t believe in boundaries. Black lace, party chic, dipped just enough in the front to remind you that bending over was not on the agenda tonight. The asymmetrical ruffled hem flirted with your thighs in a way that felt downright criminal.

Every few steps you had to subtly yank it down so it didn’t transform into a glorified napkin. And the sleeves—long, flared by your hands, and vaguely witchy—made you feel like you were one minor inconvenience away from casting a petty hex. You kinda loved them. But they didn’t distract from the very intentional peek of your bralette and matching boyshorts through the lace.

Because of course, Brittany insisted. “Just a hint of slut,” she said. “Like you accidentally seduced someone on your way to hex their ex. Tasteful thot.”

You bargained for a silver chain belt—your last shred of sanity—and she allowed it only after you swore on your grave and hers that you’d wear the damn cat ears.

Whiskers, though? Absolutely not. She tried. Oh, she tried. 

Came at you with eyeliner and the audacity. Tried to draw a little nose and whiskers like you were a children’s cartoon. You almost left. She had to physically block the door and swear on all her overpriced brushes that she wouldn’t touch your face again. 

She kept her word. Technically.

Because of the makeup she was allowed to do? Dangerously good.

Smoky eyeshadow with a silver shimmer so subtle it made your eyelids look like enchanted moon dust. A razor-sharp winged liner that made your eyes look exhausted, dangerous, and vaguely mythological. “Your tired-ass eyes need drama,” she muttered like a war general.

“You're mysterious. Like a cat that’s also seen some shit.” Your lips? Just a clear gloss. Deceptively simple. Pure bait. And don’t even bring up the eyebrows. Brittany shaped them like she was designing the arches of a cursed cathedral. You weren’t allowed to leave until they were “even, spiritual, and slightly threatening.”

So now, here you were. A seductive black cat from some weird fever dream. Tail not included—but dignity? Also missing. 

You looked too hot. It felt illegal. 

Just as you were adjusting to the new, foreign sensation of being seen in a way you usually avoided, Crowe paused the ticket check-in. His usual composure faltered just enough for him to take a step back, and then he motioned for one of the other student council members to take over. 

Without a word, he gently guided you to the side, away from the loudness of the party. His touch was light but steady as if he instinctively knew you needed a moment away from all the noise. 

The music and laughter seemed to fade as he led you toward a quieter corner, his gaze softening like he could sense that the night was taking its toll on you in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and reassuring, "You okay?" His words were careful as if he was treading lightly, always aware of your boundaries.

“Hm?” You looked up at him, your mind still lost in the haze of the party and your own thoughts.

“At the front door, I told you how beautiful you are, and you didn’t say a word back. You out of touch," Crowe said with a teasing smile, but there was an edge of concern beneath it.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It’s nothing," you murmured, your gaze flickering back toward the crowd. "Just... stuff. You know.”

Crowe’s easy smile faltered for just a second, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes. He was used to seeing you sharp, in control, untouchable. But tonight? You felt anything but. Like you were drifting just out of reach, your skin felt foreign and too tight.

He stepped a little closer, his tone shifting, softer. "Is it about the party?" he asked, the confidence he usually wore so easily now mixed with a rare hint of concern. "I know it’s a lot, overwhelming, but we pulled it off, right?"

You hesitated, fighting the urge to tell him what was really gnawing at you. Because it wasn’t the party—like the party is perfectly fine.

It was Geo, fucking asshole himself.

But telling Crowe that? You already knew how it would go.

And as much as he acted like he had it all together, Crowe wasn’t a prince in shining armor—he was more like a mother goose, ready to swoop in and take care of everyone. The last thing you needed tonight was for him to start hovering over you like he always did when things got too messy.

“The party’s going great,” you said, forcing a smile that you knew didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s turning out exactly how we planned.”

Crowe studied you with that sharp, perceptive gaze of his. He didn’t speak right away, but the way his eyes softened told you everything you needed to know—he was about fifty percent convinced. 

“I see,” he murmured. Fuck. 

The unspoken understanding hung in the air between you two, silent but enough to acknowledge what was unsaid. For now, it was enough. But then, true to form, Crowe shifted gears—his grin slipping back into place like a well-worn mask, the kind that made everything feel just a little bit easier.

“Well, since you're not planning to entertain the guests, at least make sure you have a little fun. I've got surprises lined up for tonight—keep your eyes peeled, all right?”

A small, light laugh escaped you, despite yourself. Classic fucking Crowe. Always ready with a distraction, always able to steer the ship when it felt like it might veer off course. And while it didn’t entirely loosen the tight knot twisting in your stomach, it was something. 

A welcome break, even if just for a moment.

The music shifted, bass-heavy and pulsing through the floor, as another wave of guests arrived, their costumes ranging from carefully curated masterpieces to last-minute, half-assed efforts. Crowe turned his attention to them, smoothly slipping into host mode, greeting people with his usual charisma.

And you? You turned toward the bar table where one of the student council members was mixing drinks like they were auditioning for a bartending competition.

Because let’s be real, if you spent too much time listening to the thoughts running in your head, you might as well just call it a night. And after everything you’d put into this party? No way in hell. 

You weren’t going to let your overthinking ruin the only night you’d had the time to enjoy. You deserved one damn night of fun, and you were going to get it, even if it meant hitting the booze a little harder than usual.

So, what did you do? 

You grabbed a Blackberry Margarita, obviously.

It was fruity. It was sweet. And deceptively strong. The kind of drink that burned just enough to remind you it wasn’t juice but still tasted like candy—dangerous, but perfect. 

One glass turned into two, then three, and before you knew it, you were feeling warm in places that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Your thoughts started to blur a little, edges softening, and suddenly, this night was looking a lot better.

This was fun. It had to be. It’s Halloween. 

This is your chance to have fun. Like Crowe had it all under control. Safe to drink. So, for now, you could pretend the world was fine and focus on the music that thumped through the room, pulling you into a nostalgic vibe you didn’t know you were missing. Four drinks in, and yeah, you were starting to think maybe you were finally having fun.

You made your way to the nearly packed dance floor, the chaos of the living room fading into the background. A familiar song—one you used to play on repeat back when you were younger—boomed from the speakers, its nostalgic pulse tugging at you like an old memory resurfacing.

You didn’t blend into the crowd. You never did. Instead, your movements took on their own rhythm—less about the usual grind and more about the flow. With the flick of your wrist, you spun, your body twisting in fluid, whimsical arcs. 

Your hands sliced through the air like they were painting shapes, each motion deliberate and graceful, your goth-whimsy style putting a contrast against the more traditional dance moves around you. You leaned, arms sweeping low, letting the music guide you like it was all a dream.

The crowd melted away, the music pulling you deeper, blending the present and past into each graceful twist. You felt like the only person moving in the world, wrapped in the rhythm, lost in the melody that had stuck with you through the years.

Then, through the haze of the dance, you heard it. “Hey!”

A voice. Familiar. Light-hearted, cutting through the noise like it was meant for you alone. 

You froze mid-spin, the music suddenly too loud in your ears, and the flow of your movements interrupted. Your feet stumbled slightly as you pulled yourself out of the crowd, suddenly aware of everything again.

You turned, startled, and found Sol standing there, his arms crossed with a slight, almost imperceptible blush coloring his face. His zombie costume clung to him with the perfect amount of eerie charm, as if it had been tailored for his usual emo energy. 

Next to Sol was Hyugo, looking like he’d stepped straight out of an old-school horror flick, his tattered mummy costume hanging off him in the most charmingly out-of-place way.

But it wasn’t the costumes that caught your attention—it was Sol. His gaze was locked on the crowd, intense and calculating, like he was reading each person in the room. When his eyes found you, they didn’t just skim over you like they usually did. They locked.

It wasn’t casual this time.

“You made it after all,” you said, trying to find your footing again, though your voice sounded a little distant like you were still processing everything around you. Your eyes held his for a moment, and you forgot the usual back-and-forth banter. “And I see you brought your date,” you added, trying to keep it light. “Hi, Hyugo.” You offered a soft smile.

“Hey! You look so pretty!” Hyugo chimed in, his grin infectious.

Sol shifted a little closer, subtly nodding in your direction. “Yeah, well, someone told me you were going all out for this. Figured I’d see for myself if it lived up to the hype.” His voice was playful, but there was something in it that didn’t quite match his usual tone—like he was holding back.

Hyugo, grinning mischievously, rolled his eyes. “You should’ve heard him,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “‘Gotta go to this party. Gotta go.’ Like it was some kind of mission or something.”

Sol’s posture stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line at the jab, but the flicker of something else in his eyes passed so quickly that you almost missed it. He turned back to you, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

It wasn’t just a look anymore.

“You know,” Hyugo cut in, nudging Sol with an exaggerated grin, “I always thought zombies went after brains, but I think this one’s hunting for someone’s heart tonight.”

Sol’s head snapped toward him, caught completely off guard for a split second. His face didn’t betray much, but the sharp glare he threw Hyugo could’ve sliced through steel. And yet… he didn’t deny it. Didn’t joke it off either. He just kept staring—at Hyugo first, then at you.

And when his gaze landed on you again, something shifted.

Your stomach knotted.

Whether it was the margaritas or the way Sol was looking at you—like he knew something you didn’t—you weren’t sure. Either way, the air felt heavier now, thick with something that made your pulse stutter.

Hyugo, blissfully unaware or maybe choosing chaos on purpose, clapped Sol on the back with a wink. “Good luck, dude,” he muttered before strolling off into the crowd like it was nothing.

And just like that, it was just the two of you.

Alone. Oh, fuck.

It was like time hiccuped.

Everything slowed—just enough to feel off-kilter, like you were suddenly too aware of your own breathing, your posture, the way your fingertips itched with nervous energy. The music thumped in the background, but it felt distant now, muffled by the whirlwind in your own head. You stood still, rooted, not quite sure what to do with your hands or your face or your damn heartbeat.

Then Sol shifted slightly, just enough to close the space between you. His voice dropped—low, quiet, private—and the sound of it jolted something in your chest.

“You look... different tonight.”

You blinked, startled by the way the words landed—unexpected and heavy. ���What do you mean?” you asked a bit too fast, your voice edged with something sharper than you intended, a reflex defense. Your tongue felt clumsy in your mouth like you couldn’t quite keep up with yourself.

You felt off, and it wasn’t just the alcohol. It was him. 

The way he was watching you.

Sol didn’t flinch at your tone. He studied you for a beat longer than felt casual, eyes dragging across your features with an unsettling kind of precision. Not in a creepy way, but like he was measuring something. As if you were a puzzle he was still trying to solve.

You shifted your weight, arms folding like a subconscious shield. His gaze made your skin feel warm, but not in a flattering way—more like being under a spotlight when you hadn’t asked for one.

“I-I mean you just look really pretty, I just…” Sol’s voice faltered like it had tripped over itself. “I didn’t think you’d wear… this.” He gestured vaguely at your outfit, and though his tone tried to stay casual, it didn’t land that way. Not even close.

There was no teasing. No smugness. Just something sharp beneath it—something edged in disbelief, frustration, and something dangerously close to yearning.

Maybe even a little bitter.

You forced a smile, lopsided and tight. “It’s Halloween. My friend Brittany made me be a black cat,” you said, your voice dry. “Meow.”

A laugh slipped out—awkward, half-hearted, and absolutely doomed from the start.

Sol didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. 

His eyes flicked briefly toward the crowd, watching nothing. Like he needed to recalibrate. People moved past, shouting, dancing, laughing—utter chaos—and yet here he was, still.

Frozen. Staring at you like you broke something in him just by existing.

And then, finally, his eyes returned to yours. The look he gave you wasn’t neutral. It was heated, heavy, and dark in a way that made the cat ears on your head feel ten times worse. Like they were personally attacking him.

This time, Sol’s voice was gentler, quieter than before. Like he was picking through each word carefully, testing them on his tongue before releasing them. “Anyway… I came because I wanted to talk to you.”

You let out a soft sigh, eyes still on Sol. “About what…?”

But your attention was already splintering—slipping through the cracks of the moment. Like your body was still here, anchored in front of him, but your mind had quietly drifted elsewhere, tugged by something faint… familiar. You weren’t sure why you looked, just that you had to.

And then you saw him.

Geo.

Wait. Wait—wait a damn minute. He came??

He actually showed up?

Your pulse tripped. There he was, just past the wavering edge of the living room crowd, stiff and statuesque near the kitchen archway. A cheap plastic skeleton hung limply in front of him, swaying as someone brushed past it. Two partygoers beside him were reenacting a ridiculous slasher-movie death scene, laughing too loud, too close. 

And Deryl—because of course it was Deryl—had one arm slung over Geo’s shoulder like they were best bros in a buddy cop film. Geo did not look thrilled about this. Actually, Geo looked like he was being held hostage by social interaction itself.

By the way… No costume. No effort. 

Just Geo, in his normal clothes, standing in the middle of Halloween chaos like he was silently calculating how to disappear through the nearest wall.

Your brain did a somersault. 

Your eyes locked with his for just a second. A blink. But it was enough. You saw it—the flicker. Not annoyance. Not boredom. But something softer. Tighter. Concern, maybe. Worry, definitely. 

You blinked rapidly and turned your head, forcing your eyes away before Sol could follow your gaze. With a subtle shift, you angled your body just enough to block his line of sight—like the literal black cat slipping through the sight before anything was exposed.

Your hand brushed lightly against Sol’s arm, a casual, grounding touch that seemed to anchor his attention. “Wait—what were you saying again?” you asked, voice slightly too upbeat, your tone wearing a thin coat of distraction.

Sol’s head tilted, eyes widen just slightly. He wasn’t oblivious—never was. There was a flicker of suspicion behind his gaze, the kind that made your spine tighten.

But before he could say anything—

“Can I steal you for a second?”

Crowe’s voice slipped in from behind, smooth and quiet, like he’d been waiting for the exact moment. No warning. No preamble. Just presence.

You turned instinctively.

Crowe stood there, composed as ever, the picture of casual control—drink in hand, the other already half-extended toward you like this moment had been planned down to the second. His eyes flicked to Sol briefly—acknowledging, not inviting—and then settled on you with a look too polished to be anything but intentional. 

“Sorry to cut in,” he said smoothly, flashing an apologetic smile so polished it barely masked the calculation underneath. “Just need a quick word with our feline coordinator. Party logistics.”

The air beside you changed.

You didn’t have to look to feel the way Sol tensed—his body stiffening like he’d been struck. His jaw ticked, a single muscle shifting under his skin. He didn’t speak, but his silence screamed. Like he had something to say, something sharp and burning, but kept it behind gritted teeth.

You didn’t give him the chance.

“Yeah, of course,” you said lightly, already turning toward Crowe. Your hand brushed his, barely there, and his touch answered at the small of your back—guiding, light, but firm enough to steer.

You felt the heat of Sol’s stare follow you as you left him behind. Crowe led you toward the stairs like nothing had happened, taking a sip from his cup, cool and unbothered. Like he hadn’t just intercepted a moment teetering on the edge of something volatile.

“What’s this about?” you asked, side-eying him.

“Well,” he started, tone smooth as ever, an arm draping over your shoulders like it belonged there, “Some people are getting danced out—figured I’d switch things up.”

You squinted, suspicious. “Switch things up how?”

Crowe’s grin curved gentle and easy. “Games.”

You blinked at him. “You wanna bring out games? At a college party.”

“Yes.” He didn’t even flinch. You stared harder. “Like... Connect Four? Uno? You’re telling me drunk twenty-somethings want to sit on the floor and relive kindergarten?”

Crowe shrugged, maddeningly smug. “You’d be surprised. People crave childhood nostalgia when they’re buzzed and existential. Give them enough alcohol and suddenly Jenga’s the most intense thing they’ve done all year.”

You blinked again. Damn it… he had a point.

Still, something in his tone felt a little too casual. “The games are in the big closet upstairs,” he added like that wasn’t the most suspicious sentence in existence. “You know the one.” 

You blinked at him. Yeah, you knew the one. That oversized, borderline-abandoned linen closet that felt like a junk drawer for the entire house. The one people only opened when they were desperate or nosy. Or both. “Right,” you muttered, nodding slowly, distracted already as you ran through the mental gymnastics of reaching whatever “games” Crowe had buried in there.

You started up the stairs, heels clicking against the hardwood, the thump of bass fading behind you the higher you climbed. The hallway was quieter, shadows stretched long under dim lights—like the party forgot this part of the house existed.

You reached the closet and popped it open without a second thought, flipping the light on and stepping inside like it was just another errand. The air inside was cool, faintly dusty, and the whole space had that weird too-still vibe.

Your eyes immediately found the box of games—of course—perched on the very top shelf.

You stared up at it. “Great.”

Because of course Crowe wouldn’t make it easy. Why leave them somewhere normal when he could turn it into a damn climbing expedition? You stepped in further, squinting around for anything resembling a stool—fucking nothing. 

Just dusty boxes, tangled holiday lights, and some ancient-looking trunk shoved in the corner like a dead body in a bad mystery movie. Whatever. 

You stretched up, fingers brushing the edge of the game box, willing it to just fall into your hands. Hoping, the tip of your fingers nudged the box… and then—

“Why are you in here?”

You nearly fucking screamed. 

Your body jerked, your spine going stiff as your eyes snapped wide. You twisted just enough to glance behind you—Close. No—too close.

Geo was right there.

You were practically pressed against him, your back meeting the solid wall of his chest. Broad. Warm. Unyielding. His presence filled the already-cramped closet like he belonged there like he’d been standing behind you this whole time, watching. Waiting.

Your breath hitched. You tilted your head back on instinct—eyes dragging up the line of his throat, to his jaw, to the calm, unreadable look in his face.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

Instead, he just reached past you, arm brushing your shoulder as he casually plucked the game box off the top shelf—cool as ever, like this wasn’t one of the most intimate positions two people could be in without making it weird.

Stupid tall guy with freakish long arm reach. He glanced around the room, finally shifting just a little so you could breathe again.

You blinked up at him, deadpan. “Seriously?”

He glanced down at you, then looked around the room like he wasn’t the one who’d just appeared out of the void. “Could ask you the same,” he said.

You squinted at him. “Crowe sent me up here. Said people were tired of dancing and wanted something else to do.”

Geo let out a quiet breath, almost like a scoff, somewhat a little lost. “Deryl asked me to come grab the games too.”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh.”

Before either of you could say more—SLAM.

The closet door slammed. Hard. You spun around mid-what the hell just as the knob jiggled—once, twice—and then stopped. Click. 

You stared at it like it had personally betrayed you. 

Geo stepped up beside you, calm as hell, and gave the handle a test twist. A polite little shake. Then the verdict: “…Locked.”

You blinked slowly, mentally buffering while your heart caught up to the situation. “Oh my god.” You said it like a prayer and a curse all rolled into one. “Those sons of bitches.”

And right on cue, came laughter—low, amused, 100% guilty.

Crowe’s voice floated through the door like this was just another Thursday. “Whoops.”

Then Deryl, chipper as ever: “Don’t worry! We’ll let you out in like… twenty minutes! Or whenever you emotionally bond! Whichever comes first!”

You slapped your hand against the door with the force of a goddamn anime character powering up. “Crowe!”

“Love you too~!” he sang back, way too cheerfully.

“See you!” Deryl added before he and Crowe walked away from the door, heading back to the party downstairs.

Geo let out the most exhausted sigh known to mankind, shook his head, and leaned back against the wall like this was mildly inconvenient at best. 

Like he was above it all. Like always.

“Ugh. You’ve got fucking to be kidding me…” he muttered, his tone dangerously deadpan. He looked down at you again, not with anger—more like straight judgment. Like you were the wild animal in this cage and he was the zookeeper trying to guess if you’d bite.

Didn’t say anything mean, but his silence was definitely loud. You groaned dramatically and stomped over to the old wooden trunk in the corner, plopping down with a huff. “If I die in here, tell everyone I went out bitter and vengeful.” 

Geo crossed his arms. “You’ll die of being over-dramatic before the air runs out.”

This was it. 

You were going to die here. At a Halloween party. Locked in a closet. With him.

Out of everyone—you had to get trapped in here with Geo. Tall, grumpy, impossible, judgmental, annoying Geo.

You glared at him from your seat on the trunk like your sheer rage could burn a hole through his stupid, emotionally constipated face.

He stared right back, arms crossed, completely unfazed. “You know, I didn’t realize Halloween was code for desperate cosplay.”

Your jaw hit the floor. “Excuse me?”

He gestured vaguely in your direction, the way someone might motion toward a car crash. “The ears. The makeup. The Dress. The whole…” His eyes scanned you once, slow and unimpressed, “situation.”

You stared at him, incredulous. You were this close to hurling the Monopoly box at his smug face.

“First of all, I didn’t choose this costume. Second, it’s Halloween—the one night where wearing cat ears is legal. Third?” You gestured back to him dramatically. “You’re wearing the same damn bluish purple hoodie you always wear. White turtleneck underneath. And those tight-ass ripped black jeans. What, exactly, are you supposed to be?”

Geo didn’t even blink. “I’m not dressed as anything.”

“Exactly!” You threw your hands up. “You’ve literally made ‘casual apathy’ your costume. Well congrats, you nailed it.”

The energy in the closet shifted, sharp and crackling. Like the two of you were circling each other in a very polite cage match. You hated how nonchalant he looked even when he was being a smug jerk. 

And worse—you hated that he always acted like he didn’t even want to be here. Like he had more important things to do. So you pitted the thought that you figure you said out loud.

“You didn’t even want to come tonight, did you?”

That movement. A slight shift in his shoulders, a pause before he responded,  “I wasn’t going to,” he admitted. “I didn’t plan on it.”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “Then why show up at all? Thought this whole thing was beneath you.”

Geo sighed, but it wasn’t at you—it was at himself. His eyes flicked to the door, like maybe he was second-guessing this whole situation, and then finally, he met your eyes.

For real this time. “…Crowe said something along the lines of you wanting to leave, and asked me to pick you up,” Geo muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

“What?” You blinked, a little thrown off. “I had no plans on leaving.” You raised an eyebrow then scoffed, “What, you didn’t trust me to survive a university party without you babysitting me? Came here so fast without thinking? Is that a first? Crowe definitely tricked you…”

He looked unamused, his eyes narrowing at your jab, and then he huffed, crossing his arms again. “Shut up. I just thought of how stupid you might be.”

You snickered, even though it came out a little sharper than you meant. “Rich, coming from you.”

A few seconds of silence passed, like something was almost ready to spill, however Geo the one that hesitated. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he muttered, “I didn’t like the idea of something happening and me not being there. That’s all.”

You blinked. Oh. Wow.

There it was. 

The thing that no one ever really said out loud but everyone could feel—the tiny sliver of overprotectiveness buried beneath his sarcastic armor. 

The reason he always stood too close in crowded rooms. The reason he was always a little too aware when you were quiet or too distant. The reason he’d shown up to this godforsaken Halloween party when it was clear he hated every single second of it… just in case. Just in case something went wrong, and he had to be the one to fix it. 

You stared at him, really looked at him for the first time in forever. He was standing there, arms crossed, but his eyes? They were looking away, avoiding yours like they were trying to bury every little soft thing he didn’t want to admit. And God, that was the thing with Geo: He wore that sarcasm like a shield but underneath it?

He was a goddamn mess. 

And you were so tired. 

Tired of the whole damn situation.

Tired of pretending you didn’t see through him. Tired of all these pointless, exhausting words you both keep throwing at each other. 

You started laughing. And—you mean, laughing.

At first, it was just a snicker—a short burst of air escaping because, well, it was ridiculous. Geo, standing there like he was the world’s biggest conundrum, thinking that all his careful control over his feelings somehow hid it all. 

But it didn’t. It was obvious. Then it got louder.

You couldn’t stop yourself. You laughed until it was more of a giggle, the kind that felt borderline manic as you realized how utterly absurd this whole situation was. 

This party. Him. You. The closet. Everything.

Geo’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, clearly unamused. There was a display of pure disgust on his face, followed by a confusion that only he could pull off. He took a step toward you, brows furrowing deeper. “…Why the hell are you laughing?" His voice was disbelief, and you could hear the irritation bubbling up—he had no idea how to handle you when you were this far gone.

You wiped your eyes, still laughing through the cracks in your voice, and it was starting to sound borderline hysterical now. You couldn’t even breathe properly, but it didn’t matter. This was all just so stupid, and the laughter spilled out like a flood.

The noise from the party downstairs felt miles away like it was all part of some different universe. All that mattered was the absurdity of the situation. You had no idea how long you'd been stuck in this mess with Geo, trying to keep your sanity, trying to pretend like you were okay.

But that was it. 

You weren’t okay.

And the more you thought about it, the funnier it seemed. You laughed harder, the sound echoing in the cramped space like you were losing your mind—shit maybe you were.

Geo’s eyes filed with confusion, frustration, and something else you couldn’t quite place as he stood there, arms crossed, trying to figure you out. It was clear he was torn—torn between being angry, concerned, or just disgusted. But all he managed to do was scowl harder and cross his arms tighter, his posture so stiff it could have been carved from stone.

“Seriously, this is what you’re doing right now?” he muttered, voice low, but it wasn’t sharp with the usual edge. No, this time, there was no anger in it—just confusion, like he didn’t know what the hell was going on inside your head.

And God, you didn’t even know yourself anymore.

You could barely get the words out between the gasps that hitched in your chest, but you finally managed to gasp, your voice thick and strangled, “I… I’m just… I’m so tired.”

You looked at him—really looked at him. He was still standing there, his arms tightly crossed, his face unreadable but somehow more human than you'd ever let him seem. And the reality of it all crashed down on you with a weight so heavy, that your breath faltered as you kept going, unable to stop yourself.

“I’m a college student, Geo. A fucking genius in madness, might I add,” you continued, your voice shaking now with frustration. “A psych major with a future ahead of me, you know? I’m perceptive as hell—meticulous. I notice everything.” You wave your hands around, trying to get your point across.

“I can catch the tiniest details—like the way someone shifts when they’re lying or how they suddenly change their tone when they’re uncomfortable. Facial expressions, body language, and even the tiniest flickers of thought cross their mind. I’m accurate almost all the time when it comes to reading people, picking up on the shit they try to hide. I can tell when someone’s gaslighting me, or projecting their trauma, or hiding something behind their words."

Your words rushed out now, and the more you spoke, the more frenzied you became. “I can read people! I can catch a lie from a mile away and see through all the bullshit! I—" 

You choked out a bitter laugh. “I’m supposed to be living my life. I’m supposed to be enjoying the hell out of my time, being free at this Halloween party. You know, but instead—” You stopped yourself, cutting off the rest of the words. You wiped your face, eyes fixed on the floor for a moment, before meeting Geo’s gaze with a look so filled with pity that it almost hurt to hold.

Your throat was tight, but the laugh that escaped you was hollow, desperate. “Here I am,” you muttered softly, almost to yourself with a little laugh, “locked in a closet... losing it over a guy.” And then the laugh came again, louder this time—again, hysterical, almost unhinged—as you took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes for a second to try and collect yourself.

When you looked up at Geo, the weight of everything finally hit you. Like you couldn’t stop it. 

It just spilled out, a jagged mess of emotions you couldn’t keep inside any longer.

“God, I’m so tired,” you said again, voice cracking. You wiped at your face, “Tired of my own mind. Tired of trying to make sense of everything. Tired of you, and honestly, tired of me for putting myself in these stupid situations. Tired of this goddamn universe for locking me in a closet at a Halloween party with the last person I ever wanted to be stuck with.”

Your eyes never leave Geo’s face, searching for something in him that would make this make sense. 

But you didn’t find anything. 

Just the same fucking unreadable expression, the same armor he wore so carefully. His eyes were fixed on you, scanning you with a look that was impossible to read. And you hated it—because you wanted him to say something, anything that would take the sting out of everything that had just spilled out of you. 

But again, he didn’t. 

The laugh died in your throat, leaving only an oppressive silence in its wake. And yet, it still felt louder than anything you could’ve said. 

You were still here. He was still here. 

And the universe? 

Well, it was still a cruel joke, one you couldn’t stop laughing at, even though it was suffocating you.

"You know," you started, your voice barely audible at first, the weight of your thoughts pulling at you "I always had this one thought, something that just... randomly pops into my head."

You paused for a moment, swallowing the tightness in your throat, trying to organize the mess of emotions in your chest. Your gaze dropped to the floor as if the space beneath you could somehow make sense of all the chaos swirling in your mind.

“I think, if I were to be alone…” You lead off, “…like, for the rest of my life... I’d be okay." The words came out soft, almost like you were saying them to yourself, testing their truth. Your voice trembled slightly, but you pushed through. 

“It’s not ideal, sure. But at least I wouldn’t have to be in something I don’t want. I wouldn’t have to deal with all the shit that comes with friendships, fuck even relationships, or with people who only care because of how I look or what they can get from me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that felt more like a cry than anything remotely close to humor. You shook your head as if trying to push the weight of your thoughts out of your mind, but they clung to you, suffocating. 

“It’s not that I hate people. It’s not even about self-esteem,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “it’s just... I don’t think anyone will ever truly understand me. Hell, you definitely don’t.”

The words hung in the air like an accusation, and for a moment, the silence between you two felt like a physical thing pressing down on your chest. You had already cracked, the floodgates opened, and now there was no going back. 

No stopping it. You let your eyes drop to the floor, trying to steady your breath, but the words were coming faster than you could control. 

“I mean... I look at people, how they act around me, how they pretend to know me, and I just... I can’t connect with any of it. I can’t understand why everyone keeps talking about falling in love like it’s.. filling, something everyone’s supposed to want. It feels... unreal. And I don’t know if I’ll ever believe in it.”

The words tumbled out of you, and for once, you didn’t try to stop them. For once, there was no filter, no distance between you and the truth of releasing the unwanted thoughts. “It’s hard for me to even believe in love.” You admitted.

“The kind of love everyone talks about—real love, I mean. Not the bullshit kind where someone’s just looking for something from you. Because you and I know that feeling all too well.” 

You sighed, “I know—like I knew the real reason you didn’t want me to go to this Halloween party, why you acted like a damn child over it." You sighed, narrowing your eyes.

"You were worried about Sol, weren’t you?”

You looked at him then, eyes raw with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. For the first time in what felt like forever, the words you spoke seemed to land with him. 

His expression flickered, his plush lips pressing into a thin, tense line. His body stiffened just a little like he didn’t know how to handle the storm you were unleashing.

“You didn’t think I knew, did you?” you continued, your voice breaking just a bit. “You didn’t think I knew that Sol’s been obsessing over me, that he claims he likes me? If it weren’t for Crowe, he would’ve confessed right there on that damn dance floor, and you know what I had to do?”

You let out a bitter laugh, but it felt more like a breath you were holding in for too long. The tears you’d been fighting started to spill, but you didn’t bother wiping them away.

They were the only thing that felt real anymore. 

"I had to reject him. Not just because he's a horrible guy, but because I don't see him like that. It's hard enough being friends with guys who can’t stay friends without suddenly deciding they like you.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shaking your head.

"And then I have to deal with this shit, all because of you,”

You pointed at him then standing up, walking back and forth to track your thoughts better, “Geo. Fucking Subaru Oogami. The rich kid who can’t stand anyone, all he wants to be is fucking alone with his bow and arrow, no friends or anyone.” Your voice cut through the silence, and before Geo could respond, you stopped him cold. 

"Tell me what you’re gonna say now. Go ahead, say it. Tell me again that I’m wrong. You could’ve just told me the truth. You could’ve been honest with me, but instead, you lashed out at me. Made me feel like shit. Called me pathetic. Told me I’m a waste of brain matter.” You shook your head, eyes narrowed. "

You didn’t trust me to handle it. You didn’t even try to make it better. You just... made everything worse by showing up here. Forcing me to look at your pathetic ass face.”

Your chest tightened, a deep ache settling in your heart. The tears streaked down your face, ruining the makeup that had taken so much time to perfect. You didn’t care about the mess you were making anymore. It was all so pointless. 

“And don’t take this personally, but... you're the worst. You know what you’ve done to me, and as much as it hurts, I can’t keep running away from it. I can't keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

You took a shaky breath, your throat constricting as you wiped your face again, but the tears didn’t stop. You didn’t bother to fight them anymore. 

“I don’t understand, Subaru. What do you want from me?” 

Your voice cracked, calling him by his first real name, and you felt the weight of your own emotions pressing down on you, suffocating you.

“Do you know how foreign it is to even think about someone choosing to love me? I can’t... I can’t even wrap my mind around it. If someone loved me... I wouldn’t know what to do with that. It’s so unreal to me. It’s like... it doesn’t even make sense." 

You paused, your chest tight, struggling for breath. “And all of this... all this mess... it makes me wonder if I’m just meant to be alone. If I’m just going to spend the rest of my life alone because I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending to feel something I don’t. I just... I don’t know if it’s even possible for me to feel that.”

You swallowed hard, the knot of frustration and confusion tightening in your throat. Slowly, you spoke again, quieter this time, like you were trying to make sense of everything you couldn’t understand.

“God, I’m so fucking lame. I’m never normal.” You said, mostly to yourself, the words leaving your lips, “I never have been. I guess I have to accept that at this point. I’ve spent my whole life alone... but even still... I still want something real.” 

The tears continued to burn down your cheeks, but you didn’t bother wiping them away this time. 

“No romantic love, no sexual love... just... someone—someone for once that understands me. You know? Like, someone actually gives a damn about me. Not because they want something from me, like my body, or the idea of me. Not because they want to possess me, control me... just because they care.”

Your voice cracked, and faltered, like the very words you spoke were sharp stones tearing you apart. You could feel the tears threatening again, but you pushed them back. 

You couldn’t let him see. You couldn’t be weak.

“At the same time… I don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s significant. I don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s anything. And I know that. I know I’m messed up. I know I don’t fit into whatever you or anyone else thinks I should be. But... I’m so... tired of it all. Tired of pretending. Tired of being who everyone expects me to be. Tired of being seen as something I’m not.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, your chest tightening, suffocating under the weight of your own feelings. The closet felt like it was closing in than it already was, the anxiety smothering you, until there was nothing but the thudding of your heart in your ears. 

Your eyes met his, pain and frustration mirrored in them, and for a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still.

“I should’ve never listened to Crowe,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Everyone said you were a fucking asshole. That you didn’t have time for anyone. That relationship wasn’t worth your time. I should’ve listened. I should’ve kept my distance…”

The words spilled out, jagged and desperate, like you’d been suffocating under them for too long and had no choice but to let them crash. “…I hate this. I hate how everything feels so twisted, how it’s all messed up. I don’t need you. But…” 

You paused, the words caught in your throat, a bitter mix of frustration and confusion rising up. 

“Shit, I care about you so fucking much.” 

You took a sharp breath, trying to steady yourself. 

“And I fucking hate that I do.” You scoffed at yourself, the sound bitter. “I don’t even know why it matters so much. Why does it hurt when I’ve always been so sure I shouldn’t feel like this? I never wanted any of this. It’s ridiculous. I always stick to what makes sense, and what’s practical. I don’t get tangled in this shit. But then... you came out of nowhere, flipped everything upside down, and now…” You signed.

Your chest tightened, your mind spiraling into chaos.

“I’m so lost, confused” you whispered, voice trembling. “I can’t make sense of any of it. What is this... damn feeling?”

It was all-consuming, suffocating, a weight you couldn’t escape.

Your heart hammered, each beat echoing like a drum in your chest, pounding harder with every breath. The pressure in your chest, like something cold and suffocating, grew with it—a belladonna, so beautiful and poisonous, that no one could handle it. 

Your thoughts twisted into each other, darkening with every turn, spiraling deeper, suffocating you. The panic surged, a flood that filled your chest, tightening your lungs and making every breath feel like a struggle. You could feel the pulse hammering in your throat, frantic and uneven. 

Your hands shook so violently, that you pressed them to your chest, trying to steady the feeling, but it only made the poison inside feel stronger, more suffocating.

What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just be… normal?

Everything about you, your body, your voice—everything felt tainted. 

Poisonous. [ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜 ]

it’s ‘cause I went over the 1,000 block limit per post—my bad T-T

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[douqhnxtss]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MY PRETTIEST PROBLEM ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

𝓲𝗍-𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝓰𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘢, 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇, 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝗍𝗈𝗈.

✧ oneshot, not proofread, drinking, kissing, ft. lsrfm (sakura, yunjin, chaewon), jealousy, minjeong x yunjin, clingy yunjin, partying, profanity, pet names (pretty, babygirl) — popular!giselle x fem!reader ⋆ wc! 1.8k °° I'm quite literally OBSESSED w dopamine like gigi ilysm marry me rfn. (I still love u my wifeys ellie and isa♡)

Cupid's Game — 02

✦ now playing — dopamine by giselle

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

THE BRIGHT LIGHTS SHONE ON YOUR SKIN GIVING IT A COLOURFUL GLOW. your head tipped back to chug another shot handed to you by chaewon. the loud booming music seemed to bother you less by now.

"look at you, babygirl!! if i were a man, we'd already be locked up in a room alone by now." yunjin blew you a kiss, which you accepted while giggling with your other bestfriends, sakura and chaewon.

you weren't one for parties. it wasn't your thing, you were more towards peaceful walks and fun adventures by the hillside or beach. yet, after much convincing by chaewon, you chose to give it a shot. now, it isn't so bad. you're having fun.

"god, every song they're playing is trash!" you complained with a roll of your eyes as another weirdly explicit rap song started playing. "i know right?!" sakura yelled, the noise being so loud wasn't helping in talking with your girls very much.

maybe it was the booming music or the alcohol getting to you, but you didn't sense the dark stare that burned in the back of your head.

uchinaga aeri stood beside her bestfriend, ning yizhou looking at you and your friends as if they'd stolen you from her. "aren't you being a little too obvious?" yizhou giggled with an arched brow making minjeong chuckle before chugging another shot.

aeri's jaw was clenched tight. she couldn't bare seeing you so close to other nobodies while she was right here, right infront of you. "shut up." she grumbled, pulling the shot glass out of jimin's hands and chugging it down.

"hey!" jimin shrieked with wide eyes, "i was going to drink that." she lightly punched aeri's arm. "i don't give a fuck?" she grinned, making jimin whine as the four broke into a fit of laughter.

"i'm going to dance, who wants to come?" you said after taking another shot. "fuck yeah! come on!" yunjin grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor. "have a blast!" chaewon yelled.

"finally a good song!" yunjin yelled in your ear. you nodded your head and everything seemed to blur. your body was moving on its own, the little violet dress clinging onto your curves, highlighting your body.

aeri was practically starstruck. she always saw you in oversized t-shirts and tops, baggy jeans and hoodies. this was the first time she saw a completely new side of you. she could see this side every day and never get tired.

"stop eye-fucking her, ri." yizhou whispered in her ears as aeri's eyes went back to you and yunjin, her blood boiled. it wasn't like she didn't know you two were just bestfriends. yet, she couldn't help the jealousy that bubbled in her veins as she saw you two dancing together as if it were only you two.

"you know what? fuck it."

aeri gritted her teeth before she walked forward to the dance floor, leaving yizhou, jimin and minjeong stand there with their mouths open. "is the wait gonna be over?" "oh my god, ynri will finally be real?!" "i've been waiting for this moment all my life."

aeri was drunk. she was going to make a drunk decision. did she care at all though, at the moment? nope. she was done admiring from afar.

aeri tapped yunjin's shoulder, who looked back at her while you were still in your own world. "hey, yunjin." She greeted with a overly sweet smile. stalking and being nosy came in handy for aeri, and she chose to use it to her and minjeong's advantage.

minjeong had a everlasting thing for yunjin, as for the ginger, she'd been crushing since her eyes met the korean's. she called it "love at first sight".

"hi!" yunjin exclaimed back. "minjeong's looking for a dance partner," aeri drew off as she saw yunjin's eyes shine at the mention. "and you might like being her partner. so, i came to tell you."

yunjin thanked aeri as much as she could in 10 seconds before being cut off by aeri, "it's ok, yunjin. now, go have fun. i see the way you look at minjeong." aeri threw a grin at yunjin who gladly took the request and skipped her way to a confused and flustered minjeong.

now that yunjin was out of the way, came you. aeri reached her hand out to you with a confident smile, masking the nervousness she held beneath, "wanna dance, pretty girl?" she winked.

your cheeks bloomed a rosy hue as you stuttered, the haze of the alcohol somewhat faded at this point. "me?" You pointed to yourself making aeri laugh. she stepped forward, now in your space without touching you.

"yeah, you." you meekly nodded with a shy smile taking her hand. aeri couldn't be happier. the sleepless nights she spent thinking of you, she finally had you with her. both of you drunk and with lovesick grins on yours face as you two lost yourselves to the rhythm.

both her hands on your hips while yours were looped around her shoulders, both of you impossibly close. aeri couldn't hold herself in anymore. she would've kept her heart in check in any other circumstances. but right now, she was desperate and too blinded by the alcohol to think straight.

"y/n, i've always been good at hiding my feelings. but with you, it's impossible. you're irresistible, you know that?" she whispered in your ear so that only you could hear her sultry voice.

your sarcastic nature popped out, "i know that, very much too, at that." you stared right in her eyes, while she rolled her eyes with a mock scoff.

"you're my dopamine. my prettiest problem. you've kept me up for nights, thinking about you, everything about you. fuck, i don't know how or when i started feeling this way, but fuck, you make me smile everytime i think of you."

the red blush on your cheeks only deepened further as she spoke, all while maintaining eye contact with you at that. to think she really felt this way about you, you were dumbfounded.

you never thought in a million years that aeri, who could date anyone she wanted without having to lift a finger, would reciprocate the feeling that had bloomed in your heart.

"i never thought you'd become someone so important to me, but you are now and i like you, y/n. so much, so much it's on the border of being considered as love, but we're not on that stage yet." aeri let out a breathless chuckle, her nervousness seeping out of her composed self.

you were speechless. so many emotions swirling in your heart and mind that you were rendered unable to speak properly. aeri saw you struggling to form a coherent sentence, and a smile broke out on her face.

aeri's index finger went under your jaw, tilting your head up so as to make you look her in the eyes. "tell me what you feel, pretty. whether it will break my heart or make me the happiest girl in the world is another thing you shouldn't focus on."

her beautiful brown eyes stared into your own awaiting any response you'd give, your mouth was dry, your eyes covered in a haze and mind overwhelmed with thoughts.

finally gathering your voice, you spoke, "i.. i've been into you for a long.. time now. but, i, in all honesty, never expected something to come out of it and i just tried my best to hide my feelings. the truth is, i like you too."

aeri fell in love all over again.

the sincerity in your voice, your cute doe eyes staring up at her, your hands on her shoulders, she felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. she solved her biggest problem, she confessed! and her pretty problem likes her back?! oh, aeri you won in life. she thought.

"can i kiss you?" she leaned in to whisper in your ear. you muttered a yes with a light nod of your head. her hands fell back in place on your waist as she leaned in again. your eyes fluttered close feeling her breath fan over your mouth.

aeri's lips pressed against yours, her eyes also shut. your heart beating so much you were surprised it didn't burst. her lips were soft against yours, fireworks lit up in her mind as she lightly smiled into the kiss.

you two separated to breathe before she pressed her lips against yours again. she couldn't get enough, you were addicting. your hands went to play with her hair, her grip tightening on your waist, a whimper unknowingly slipping out.

aeri was intoxicating. she overwhelmed you in the best way possible. her scent filling your senses, her lips pulling you into a daze blurring everything around you, leaving only you two. her almost possessive grip on your waist only added made you brain even fuzzier.

sakura let out a gasp as her eyes fell on you, passionately kissing aeri as if your life depended on it. "look at her living her life." chaewon whistled from beside her. "this is so shocking. y/n out of everyone has a sneaky link while i'm still single." sakura rolled her eyes with a scoff as chaewon laughed from beside her.

yunjin was being dragged by minjeong to a secluded area as her gaze dropped to her bestfriend and new potential girlfriend's bestfriend, together, eating eachother's faces off. "wow."

she stopped and pointed to their direction making minjeong look at them. and did her jaw drop when she saw the sight. "she actually did it." minjeong again started pulling yunjin after the initial shock faded away, they had better things to do.

jimin and yizhou glanced at eachother with a knowing smile. "we ate by forcing aeri to come even though she was tired." the two high-fived, watching you and aeri from afar.

"honestly didn't expect y/n to be a good kisser but looks like i'm wrong." jimin whispered to yizhou who understood and vigorously nodded her head in agreement. "exactly."

after pulling out for the umpteenth time, both of you had the most lovesick grins on your faces. "take me out on a date tomorrow, 7?" you asked with hooded eyes, the alcohol still swirling in you.

"hell yeah. gon' take you to the best first date ever, pretty." aeri said with determination. you gave her another peck before you left her hair only for her to pull your hands and thread them back in her hair, "don't."

"certainly didn't know you like having your hair pulled, miss uchinaga." you teased with an arched brow making her groan with another roll of her eyes. "you know now." she threw back, both of you laughing right after. "you know?" she started,

"you really are my dopamine."

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — 「cupid's game」

ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

Douqhnxtss © 08022025 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. do not edit, translate, repost or plagiarize any of my work !

[buckybarnes-lover]

Roommies (Chaper 1)

Roomates Bucky Barnes x fem!reader au

Words: 1,010

Summary: You and Bucky are roommates, you've had a crush on him for ages but you don't want to risk ruining your friendship so you stick to being friends until you go out and get drunk one night.

Warnings: there's not many warnings, the reader drinks enough to get drunk but other than that there's not much

A/N: This is my first Bucky fic ever so pls enjoy! I've also posted this on ao3

********

You and Bucky had been roommates ever since your second year at Uni when you both decided it would be cheaper, and more fun, to live together. You knew everything about each other and were always with each other, so much so that sometimes people would mistake you for a couple because of how close you were, but you always laughed it off. A small part of you wished that is was true, that you were dating but you knew that dating Bucky would also mean the chance of breaking up with him and you didn't want to risk that.

Dating Bucky was just a fantasy, something to daydream about when class was taking too long to finish or to help you get off late at night. It's not like it would ever happen, but that doesn't stop you from thinking about it, about the way he would kiss, how he would start gently, as though he was trying to commit your lips to memory then get rougher and more passionate as the moment progressed and then-

"Are you thinking about him again?" Nat's voice snaps you back to reality, back to the cosy little café ten minutes from your flat where you and Nat are supposed to be studying.

"What? No, I was just, um," You glance down at your biology notes "Thinking about enzymes." You hoped Nat would believe it but guess you can't lie to a human lie detector.

"Really? And what about enzymes has got you blushing?" Nat smirks knowing full well that you're lying.

You at least have the decency to look sheepish as you accept that you've been caught.

"You know, you should tell him how you feel, you never know he might feel the same." Nat's been trying to get you to confess for a while now but all her attempts have been in vain because you're just too stubborn.

"I don't know Nat, I just don't want to ruin what we have right now." You fidget with your pen "Plus, I'm sure it'll pass" You don't know if you're trying to convince Nat or yourself.

Nat leans back in her chair "Well, if you're not going to do anything about it, you need to get over him." She looks at you with a sly grin "Let's go out tonight."

"Tonight? But I still need to study." You hesitate looking down at your notes, you definitely didn't do as much studying as you hoped today.

"Yeah tonight, we'll invite Wanda as well and it'll just be our little trio going out and getting fucked." Sensing your hesitancy she adds "Come on, it'll be fun, you might even find someone else to take your mind off Buck."

Maybe you should go, going out with the girls is always fun and you definitely need to get your mind off Bucky. "Ok, let's go." Yeah, you can study later.

"Great! I'll text Wanda" Nat pulls out her phone and rapidly types a message to Wanda "All done, this is gonna be great! Make sure you look cute."

"I always look cute" You start packing your things away since you clearly aren't going to be doing any studying.

Nat rolls her eyes and smirks at you. "Alright cocky"

You roll your eyes right back at her. Who knows, maybe going out tonight will be good for you, you definitely need it.

                                                           *****

A few hours later your sitting on the floor in front of your full length mirror, blasting your hype music and trying to get your eyeliner just right. You've already wearing your outfit for the night, a black mini dress that snatches your waist and accents your curves paired with matching black heels that make you a good three inches taller. Finishing your make-up you can't help but admire yourself, you feel like a million bucks.

"You look good." Bucky's leaning in your doorway, you hadn't even noticed him standing there.

"Thanks creep, how long have you been standing there?" You smirk, you don't actually mind him watching you, if you're being honest you find it kinda flattering that he's admiring you.

"I was just passing by then I saw you getting all dolled up." He crosses his arms, showing off his built forearms, as he eyes you up once again. "You going out with Nat?"

"And Wanda, but yeah we're going to meet up at Nat's place first and then go out." You put your make-up in your bag and toss it on your bed. You turn to leave but end up face to face with Bucky, well almost, even with your heels he's still taller than you. 

You're about to tell him to move but you get distracted by how intensely he's looking at you, then his gaze drops down to your lips and you copy the motion and look at his lips. You're so close to each other you can't help but lean in and everything slows down as Bucky leans in too and you're so close, you're almost-

A sudden ringtone interrupts the moment, making both of you jump as far from each other as possible. 

Bucky quickly mutters an apology and leaves before you have time to say anything. What the fuck?  You almost kissed, that's not supposed to happen, you're literally going out tonight so you can get over him. Wait. He wanted to kiss you too so... does that mean he feels the same? You let out a frustrated groan as your phone keeps ringing. You want to spend more time analysing what just happened but you got places to be so you answer the call.

"Hey girl, are you nearby? I'm already at Nat's." Wanda asks completely oblivious to what she just interrupted.

It takes you a moment to process what she just said since your mind's all over the place. "Yeah, I'll be there in like five minutes."

You hang up and leave your flat without bumping into Bucky, thankfully. You just need to go out and forget about Bucky which is easier said than done, especially after what just happened.

A/N: Part 2 here

[jirsungs]

NO IDEA | 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?

word count: 2k words (soo... i might've gone over my planned number which was 1k...)

As soon as Donghyuck got the address of the man that shall not be named’s frat house, he jumped up from his bed. The sudden rustling noise of his panicking startles Renjun and Jaemin, who are scattered around his room. Renjun sat at Donghyuck’s PC desk and was originally trying to peacefully relax and build his Minecraft cottage house while Jaemin was busy munching on chips he stole from their snack stash and playing a game on his phone. 

“Jesus! Dude!”

Donghyuck ignores Renjun’s shriek, already rummaging through his closet (which was not the cleanest, but the messiest) for an acceptable “college frat party” outfit. 

“What’s up with him?” Jaemin mouths to the shorter male, which Renjun shrugs.

Both, now intrigued, remove their focus on their designated activities, and transfer it onto Donghyuck. “What’re you doing?” Renjun asks.

Donghyuck finally answers when he grabs out a gray hoodie, taking a quick whiff before putting it on. “Jeno texted about Hyunjin and Belle making out in a corner and—”

“Lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?” Renjun interrupts. 

To this, Donghyuck frowns, and Jaemin only snickers at the reaction. “Hyuck, we’re messing with you. Go get your girl, man.” 

The former smiles. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

Donghyuck’s pacing down the hallway to the door when one of the guys yells out, “And uh, if she pukes in Dongsookie, you’re cleaning it up!”

“Jun, what did I say about naming my car?!”

"Busy, can’t hear you!”

Rolling his eyes at Renjun’s obvious lie which was followed by Jaemin’s cackle, Donghyuck stands in front of the shoe rack. He’s about to put his foot into his shoe but stills himself for a moment. 

Is this the right move? What if she doesn’t want me there?

Before he can dwell too much on overthinking, his ringtone's annoying sound makes him jump in his spot. Is it a coincidence that you just happened to call him at this exact moment of his overthinking? He’s not sure, but the thought of it spreads a small smile when he sees your contact pop up.

“Hello?” He covers up his rapid breathing as if he wasn’t rushing to the door a few minutes prior.

“Donghyuckkk…”

The bumping background noise of the party music and your slurring words is all he can hear in his ear when he answers the phone, and Donghyuck doesn’t notice himself fanboying over how cute you are. He’s about to reply when you continue.

“Can yoooou… Pick… me up?”

“Y/N, how much did you drink, exactly?” The smile he’s wearing screams boyish; his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he anticipates your next reply.

“Pleaase…” With his question going unanswered, he decides not to push it.

“Alright, alright, wait for me. I’m on my way. Stay with your friends until I'm there, okay?”

The last thing he hears before you hang up is your little “Mhmm” before he hurriedly puts his shoes on, grabs his car keys, and exits out the door. 

“Sheesh, she’s cute.” 

Donghyuck finds himself fortunate that no one hears him giggling down the apartment hallway.

When Donghyuck drives up to the frat house, he observes the sight with a scowl on his face. It's your typical college party.

How do people enjoy this? How does Jeno enjoy this? He thinks.

Little did anyone know, he sometimes thinks he could enjoy it. But a drunk Y/N walking around in the party seemed like a more important issue to think about at the moment.

After playing out the multiple possible scenarios of what could happen when he walks into the party, he gains the courage to turn off the ignition. He exhales a deep breath before finally exiting his car. 

As soon as he opens the door, he knows he doesn’t fit in. The blasting music makes him cover his ears, and the sweaty bodies pushing into him have him holding his breath. Most importantly, he doesn’t love how people can tell he isn’t familiar with this type of environment because some partygoers side-eye him as he walks past, and even people he recognizes from class whisper to their friends. 

Luckily, he’s welcomed by Jeno once he walks a few steps into the frat. 

“Aye, Hyuck! You’re here!” Jeno’s pat on the back somehow made him ease up a bit.

“Hey, Jeno. Where’s—”

Wasting no time, Jeno, who already knows the end of his friend’s question, nods over to the living room, where Donghyuck catches a glimpse of you drunkenly dancing between two guys. He hates that he can’t detect their faces or how one of the guys is slowly dancing a little bit too close to you or the small fume of jealousy building in his chest, but that’s not important.

Still oblivious to Donghyuck shooting laser beams into the guys’ heads for being so close to you, Jeno continues, “Dude, at least try to look like you fit in. You look awkward as fuck.”

But all Jeno gets is a hit to his side, and he winces. “Alright. That was deserved.”

Noticing that Donghyuck’s mind is distracted, Jeno acknowledges the bitterness and chuckles at his friend. So, saying no more, he nudges Donghyuck further into the crowd.

“Stop stalling and make a move!”

Donghyuck looks like a lost puppy as he politely passes through the crowd. Or at least he tried to; most people couldn’t hear him over the god-awful music that was playing. Seriously though, who’s on Aux? But he listened to Jeno’s advice and continued to push through, not because he wanted to—well, he kind of did—but because he knew Jeno wouldn’t let him leave the house without you in his arms. 

He regrets making him his wingman. He’s kidding. Sorta.

He makes his way into the living room when he finally sees you. He’s glad to see that one of the guys he saw earlier isn’t dancing near you anymore, but the one he noticed getting closer to you was still in his spot. It was obvious the guy was trying to have you grind on him or something. He was clearly failing.

He’s also glad that he’s unfamiliar with the guy because a real problem could’ve started. But then again, it wasn’t like he had the balls to start a fight over this anyway. Still, it tempted him.

Donghyuck walks over to you and wraps his hand around your wrist, and you finally take notice of him. “Baby, you’re heree…” 

His ears perk up at the nickname, and so does the unknown guy who Donghyuck watches scoot farther and farther away. He squints, wondering how someone could be so pathetic to be trying to get something with a drunk girl, but he’s thankful he isn’t an asshole who doesn’t care about her having a (fake) boyfriend.

You leaning on his chest takes him back to the current situation, and one of his hands somehow lands on your back while the other rests on the side of your waist. To anyone else, he would look so physically stiff being this touchy with you, but you? You were too drunk out of your mind to notice a single thing.

“Uh… Um. Y/N, we,” He awkwardly clears his throat before he leans down to reach your ear. “We should go, angel?” His head tilts confusingly at how foreign that pet name sounded on his tongue.

Shit. Why do I sound so unsure right now?

He immediately covers it up: “I mean, yes, angel. That's the right one. But uh, we need to go.” 

He’s about to walk you out of the crowd, but you pull him back in. “Nooo, dance with me?”

You give him the prettiest puppy eyes you can muster, and in that small moment, Donghyuck realizes that he's just a man. A stupid whipped man.

But no, you're drunk. He can't get weak in the knees now.

“Y/N, you're drunk. You're literally tipping over right now.” 

“Am not.” Geez, the pout on your face just makes him want to kiss—

“Y/N, there you are!”

The new voice makes Donghyuck jump, his hands resting on your back and waist falter slightly. He was ready to run if the culprit was revealed to be Hyunjin, but to his luck, it wasn't.

Instead, it was,

“Yo, Chenle, what the hell! You can't just leave that girl hanging—”

Mark and Chenle. Great. This wasn't the first impression I had in mind.

Both boys, confused as ever, glance between you and Donghyuck. Chenle takes account of the placement of your fake boyfriend's hands on your body and smirks. 

Mark, being the saint he is, breaks the ice first. “You're Donghyuck, I assume?”

The said guy is about to answer when he glimpses down at you, and that's when he finds you completely knocked out on his chest. 

When he does, he sends an apologetic look to both of them, “Yeah, that's me. But um, I don't wanna seem rude, I know this is our first time meeting, but can you—can you guys help me get her to my car? Jeno called me about earlier, saying I should drive her home.”

Mark and Chenle exchange a look, almost as if they were mentally saying “he's a good one” to one another. Seeing that he quickly got their yeses brought some type of happiness and relief to his chest. He couldn't pinpoint it.

“Yeah, we can help.”

The moment Donghyuck succeeded in getting you inside your apartment was like a sigh of relief. He thanks Seulgi for being such an angel and lending him her spare key because he was well aware Yuqi was not going to. 

Was it difficult walking you out of Hyunjin's party? Yes. But watching you cutely stumble around the elevator on the way up and mumble gibberish made it all worth it.

He slips Seulgi's spare key onto the key hanger, his eyes not leaving your body as you walk around the living room unsteady. He smiles to himself when he watches you plop on the couch.

He's convinced you were knocked out again because of the decrease in mumbly sentences. So he's taken aback when he walks over to the couch to double-check to meet you with your eyes closed, but you cling onto his arm before he can leave. 

“Mm… Don't leave yet... I wan’ you heree…” You whine.

“Y/N, you’re drunk. Come on, let's get you to bed.”

“Ooh, the bed? Are we hitting third base already?” You tease, your eyebrows wiggling.

Even intoxicated and half asleep, she's still the same. An adorable pain in the ass. 

“Quit it, Y/N.” Despite his unimpressed tone, Donghyuck's cheeks still turn pink at your unexpected words, but he maintains his composure because he knows it's the intoxication talking. 

When he reaches under you to bridal carry you, he ignores the whiny protests that leave your mouth and is successful in holding you to your bedroom. He mentally reminds himself to thank you later on for Facetiming him so much when you needed extra help on certain math problems or just simply to enjoy each other’s company. If it hadn't been for the multiple late-night calls, he wouldn't have been able to differentiate your room from Seulgi's and Yuqi's.

After settling you into bed, Donghyuck thought that was the end of it. But it turns out you had other plans because now your arms circle his neck, trapping him close to you. He has no time to react when your lips meet the side of his neck.

“Hey, what—what’re you doing?” His words stuttered and nervous. He swears he didn’t mean them to.

He can't tell if you're drunk anymore. He hopes you are.

You wait for him to pull away, and when he doesn't, you smile against his neck, leaving drunk, uncoordinated kisses on it. “Just thought… I could make you look prettier.

Did she just call me pretty? Wait—geez, fucking focus, Donghyuck. She's drunk for God's sake. I think… Still, no!

Even though this moment is something he's dreamt about ever since freshman year, this can't happen now. You're drunk and vulnerable, and he'd rather have you in a state where you're only thinking of him, not your lousy excuse of an ex-boyfriend and his new floozy. 

He finally backs away from you. “Y/N, you're not thinking straight, alright? I–I gotta go.”

He doesn’t even wait for your reaction, immediately bolting out of your bedroom. He wastes no time in hurrying out of your apartment and letting whatever interaction between you two stay there. Plus, you'll forget all about this in the morning. For you, this never happened.

But for Donghyuck? Well, let's just say he didn't have the most comfortable ride home.

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note: FIRST WRITTEN CHAP FOR NO IDEAAA, EVERYBODY CHEER!!! 👏 to those who read drum me, stupid, you're probably used to my written chapters that are planned to be short but end up being long... that'll never change, i fear 😔☝️ anyway! writing this made me smile bc ynhyuck are cute and hyuck's just an awkward boy:((( but i must sleep. it is 1am. I HOPE THIS MADE YALL GIGGLE AS WELL !

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[lexabitxh]

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking  back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

[daisyvisions]

Unspoken Words (Pt. 3)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 7.4K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) very angsty but with a happy ending, jealousy, confessions, some arguments, mentions of being drunk, heated makeouts, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f! receiving), slight masturbation, marking, neck biting, slight dry humping, pet names (sweetheart) lots and lots of sexual tension y'all (pls let me know if I missed anything!)

➺ A/N:  Okay hear me out... it wasn't supposed to take this long for me to write this I swear 😭 but life got in the way huhu but anyways WOW 7.4K words? this is the longest fic I've ever written! This is the last part of this series and while I'm sad it has to come to an end, I'm just very proud of this series as a whole! Proofread once, I hope you enjoy this last part!

➺ Part 1 | Part 2

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @aimeecarreros and the anon that reminded me to write for it bless you I hope you see this!

As your body sways to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers, you can't help but become immersed in the kaleidoscope of colors moving around you. You finally feel relaxed enough after a couple of drinks and slowly let everything around you move through you like an ocean wave.

It's been a while since you've been this loose, especially with all the college requirements piling on you like bricks. You needed this, especially since it was your birthday. You deserved to have a break and not think of any responsibilities for a moment and have fun with the person you adore the most… your best friend. Speaking of best friend, where the hell is he right now?

Your mind pulls you away from your reverie as your eyes frantically search for the man who was with you all night. The man who had your whole birthday planned out and dragged you to this place. And just like a moth to a flame, you spot him easily across the room sitting by the bar as he watches you with his warm eyes, the growing smile on his face as soon as his eyes finally meet yours.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards him, weaving through the sea of bodies. You stop right in front of where he sits, your body wedged between his legs as you place your hands on his shoulders for stability. His eyes grow wide as you slowly lean closer to him, wondering what you might do next.

"C'mon Sangyeon, dance with me!" Your mouth is dangerously close to his ear as you try your best to speak above the reverberating music around you.

"I think I'll pass. I'm good right here," he responds as his hand holds your waist to stop you from swaying.

"You can't say no, it's my birthday, remember?" you remind him, your tone playful yet insistent.

Sangyeon hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the crowded dance floor. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. He lets out a heavy sigh, remembering that he was the one who set that rule for the evening to begin with. It was the condition he had suggested in order for you to say yes to going out tonight.

"Okay… let's dance," he sighs, quickly chugging down the rest of his drink before allowing you to lead him onto the dance floor.

As soon as you step foot on the dance floor, Sangyeon grabs your wrist and makes you twirl for him. You laugh at the silly gesture but continue to dance with him and let the music move through both of you.

He laughs at how loose-limbed your movements have become but still tries to match your energy nonetheless despite not being much of a dancer. Sangyeon can't help but smile as butterflies soar throughout his body.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life, wishing for moments like this to never end.

Later on in the night as you both walk back to your apartment, Sangyeon wraps his arm around you, trying to keep your balance as you yap about anything and everything. For some, this would be considered bothersome, having to be the caretaker of their tipsy friend. But to Sangyeon, it doesn't matter as long as it was you.

Aside from getting you home safe, all he can focus on is the beautiful sound of your voice and the way you hold onto him closely. The smell of your perfume was far more intoxicating than the drinks you downed tonight.

When you both finally make it to your front door, you suddenly spin around to hug Sangyeon tightly. "This was the best birthday ever, thank you so much Sangyeon," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Anything for my girl," he smiles, returning the same hug you're giving him.

His cheek presses against your head, taking all the strength he could muster to not kiss your temple. You both hug each other for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. As soon as you reluctantly pull away from one another, Sangyeon chuckles at the tousled appearance of your hair.

"Here, let me just—" Sangyeon's hand reaches for the loose strand of hair and gently tucks it behind your ear. You impulsively press your cheek onto his palm, letting the heat of his skin cradle you as you sigh dreamily.

You look up at him with these sultry eyes, and Sangyeon can't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. This kind of thing has never happened between the two of you. He tries his best to ignore the sudden warmth blooming at the back of his neck but fails as soon as his eyes gravitate towards your lips almost touching his palm.

"Sangyeon?"

Beep, beep, beep! The sound of your alarm rings as you wake up from your dream. You find yourself smiling as you open your eyes, but reality hits you like a lightning strike as you soon realize who was the male lead of your dream.

You aren't upset because the dream ended so abruptly, but rather the scenario reminds you of a time when you and Sangyeon were happy. When you two were still friends and not in the shit show you're currently in where he makes you feel like a total stranger.

Before you start wallowing in your own sadness, you rub your eyes and immediately get up from your bed, stretch, and check your phone. Today, you're assigned to check the inventory and the progress of everything the team needs for the play next week. While that sounds easy to do, it also means you have to quality check and sort out all the props, costumes, and other items before the tech rehearsal.

Today is definitely going to be a long one, but at least it will give you enough distraction from overanalyzing that dream, right?

You slowly exhale a sigh of frustration as you continue untangling the mess of rope on your lap. Not only have you been trying to straighten them out for the past hour or so, but you also start to feel a numbing pain in your tailbone as you sit cross-legged on the stage. It was a mistake positioning yourself here as you figure out this task, but at least you were a few more tasks away from calling it a day.

"Didn't expect to see you here—" A deep voice startles you. You were so focused on unraveling the rope from its tangled knots that you didn't pay attention to the creaking sound of the auditorium's entrance.

You clutch your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat while your eyes search for the source of the voice. You'd think finding who the voice belonged to would calm your nerves, but you suddenly feel your heart pounding harder than it did a few seconds ago when your eyes finally lock in on the other person's face. Oh god… Sangyeon.

"Uh—" You try to swallow down the non-existent lump stuck in your throat. "The rest of the team couldn't make it today so I volunteered to help…"

"I know, I signed up with you weeks ago to check on inventory, remember?" He awkwardly laughs. And in that moment, it only occurred to you that you did in fact sign up with Sangyeon for this weeks ago, the whole rift between you two making you forget that little detail.

"R-right…" You turn away to focus on the task at hand before he spots the embarrassed look on your face, quietly praying that he will decide to just leave you to your work.

But apparently, the universe had other plans for you today.

Sangyeon starts walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. The sound of his footsteps is so slow and gentle it's more nerve-wracking than any sound you've ever heard. You really do try your best to ignore him, but that alone starts to become difficult as the faint scent of his warm cologne starts to invade your senses.

"Need a hand?" Sangyeon offers, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

"No, I've got it," you quickly reply as your eyebrows furrow in frustration at a particularly difficult knot.

Sangyeon chuckles at your stubbornness, finding it cute rather than annoying. Suddenly, he places his hands on the edge of the stage and pulls himself up, his figure now closer to you than ever before as he sits right across from you.

"Here—" He grabs the tumbleweed of rope from your hands and starts to untangle the mess effortlessly.

"You were always a stubborn one, huh?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

"I only learn from the best," you reply, sharing a slightly awkward laugh together.

"Come on," Sangyeon says, his voice softer now. "I'll help you so you don't stay up too late."

At first, you were worried about how awkward it would be to have Sangyeon around you for a couple more hours considering everything that has happened between you two. But much to your surprise, it was like nothing happened at all, as if you two were just picking up where your friendship had left off.

The first couple of minutes or so were obviously weird, but as soon as Sangyeon made a joke about an incident that happened backstage weeks ago with two of the crew members, you couldn't help but burst out laughing. From that point on, you two were talking nonstop as you tried to untangle the rope together. And for the first time in weeks, you both felt that missing part of you become whole again.

By the time you both finished straightening out the rope, he asked you what other tasks you had left so he could work on some while you did the other half. You both got up to do your tasks and met back at the same spot where you sat cross-legged from one another to finish retouching the paint on some props.

As the night went on, Sangyeon couldn't help but steal glances at you as you focused on painting the item in your hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed his entire body, remembering how it felt to be around you like this again.

He suddenly snapped back into reality as you let out a loud sigh as you brush the loose hair from your cheek with the back of your hand. A light streak of paint smudges your skin, making Sangyeon chuckle at the sight of it.

"What's so funny?" You looked at him quizzically. Sangyeon couldn't help but smile at your confused face. Without hesitation, he put down the brush in his hand and leaned closer to you.

"You've got a little something—" He held your head steady with his palm as his thumb tried to remove the smudge of paint on your cheek.

You suddenly became aware of how close you were to Sangyeon. You could see every detail of his face. Your heart began to race as you realized he was staring at you intently, his breath catching in his throat.

"T-there. Just a bit of paint, that's all—" Sangyeon stammered, his eyes never leaving your face. Before he could lower his hand, you impulsively grabbed his wrist a little more firmly than you had hoped, instantly missing the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

You melt at the touch of his caress, eyes closing as his warm hand envelops your skin. You turn your head slightly for your lips to lightly touch his inner wrist. Your heart starts pounding out of your chest; it's as if this moment seems too familiar to you.

"Sangyeon?" You say his name under your breath, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart is beating in this moment. Wondering if his heart is also beating as loud as yours.

Sangyeon's lips part, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to find the right words to say. How can he, especially when you look at him with deep longing? After everything that has happened between you two?

He sees your eyes falter with his lack of response as you try to slowly pull away from him. Regret starts to consume him, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get close to you again.

No, he can't lose you, not like this. It's either he does it now or regrets this for the rest of his life.

"Fuck it—" Sangyeon grips the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, your lips suddenly pressed against his.

You impulsively place your hand on his chest and push him away, scanning his face for his reaction. But all you can see is how dilated his pupils are, looking at you with an intense gaze you have never seen before. Suddenly, the air around becomes stuffy and surges with desire all at once.

Without a word, you grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards you desperately as you smash your lips against his once more. Sangyeon responds with the same level of desperation as he cups your face between his warm hands and presses a deeper kiss onto you. He groans at the sound of your faint whimper as he hastily pushes the props and other items that stand between you two to the side, not giving a damn if they get all messed up.

His body hovers over yours as he leans closer to you, gently guiding your back onto the wooden floor of the stage. Your hands try to cling onto his broad shoulders, but as soon as you lay completely flat beneath Sangyeon, you find yourself grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling him closer than ever before.

He inserts his knee between your legs, causing them to split apart while he tries his best not to place his entire weight onto you. Your core accidentally brushes against his thigh as you both adjust yourselves, gasping into his mouth at the delicious friction below. Sangyeon wastes no time slipping his tongue between your lips, moaning at how your tongues move together so perfectly. He needed to taste more of you or else he would go insane.

As Sangyeon's lips pull away from yours, they start to make a trail from your jaw down to the column of your neck. Each kiss feels as if he's leaving permanent marks on you despite not actually sucking on your skin. Your faint whimpers and sighs of satisfaction encourage him to keep going. He was so lost in the moment that he had forgotten where you were. But that didn't matter to him at all.

All he could think about was having you in his arms again.

Just as things were starting to become even more heated between you two, a loud ringing echoes in the air. The source was coming from your phone, which was just a few inches away from Sangyeon. At first, you tried to ignore it, too caught up in the sensation of Sangyeon's lips on your neck, his hands inching dangerously close to areas that made your core throb in excitement. But when the phone kept on ringing, you couldn't avoid the curiosity any longer.

You reach for your phone, trying to calm yourself before answering so that whoever was calling you wouldn't suspect anything odd on your end (but that alone was difficult as Sangyeon deepened the kisses on your neck).

"Hello?" Your phone fumbles against your ear as you try to hold it steady. "Oh, Hyunjae, I was just—"

As soon as you said his name, Sangyeon froze. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, suddenly bringing him back to reality. He chuckles under his breath, mentally slapping himself for getting so carried away with you like this that he forgot the person thats between you and him.

Sangyeon lets go of your waist and abruptly gets up to straighten his clothes and hair. Without warning, he hops off the stage and walks towards the exit of the auditorium. You try to process what the fuck is happening all the while maintaining your current conversation with Hyunjae over the phone.

"I'll call you back, Hyunjae. Give me a sec—" You get up and try to follow Sangyeon quickly.

By the time you burst through the theater's doors, you see Sangyeon walking to the nearest fountain to take a sip and splash water on his face. You walk towards him carefully as he lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Sangyeon?" you call out softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But he flinches away from your touch, causing a massive ache in your chest.

"This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he replies, his voice cold and distant.

"What? Sangyeon, can you please just—"

"It's nothing," he interrupts you.

"It's not nothing. Tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. Leave it alone."

"Sangyeon, cut the bullshit," you snap, your patience wearing thin.

"What?" he asks, his tone defensive.

"You've been acting weird towards me ever since the day after my birthday, and I want to know why," you say, your voice rising with frustration. "Why have you been avoiding me? Making me feel like shit?"

Something in Sangyeon seems to snap at your words. "You want to know what it is?" he practically shouts. "Hyunjae. He's my fucking problem. Doesn't help that I see you two everywhere I go and practically hear you two at each other like animals!"

"I didn't even know you were coming over that day!" you retort. "This all wouldn't have happened if you had just not cut me off like that. It fucking hurt, Sangyeon. Then now you can't just suddenly walk into my life again like nothing happened, kiss me, and expect everything to be okay!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sangyeon says, his voice suddenly tired.

"Understand what exactly?" you press.

"I—" Sangyeon struggles to get the words out of his throat.

"That night, your birthday party," he says slowly, searching your face. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"Stop with the cryptic shit and just spit it out!" you say, your patience completely gone.

"Fine!" Sangyeon explodes. "You want to know why I've been avoiding you this whole time?"

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever he's about to say.

"You kissed me."

His words hit you like a train. "W-what?"

"And you wanna know what hurts the most? The way you looked at me the next day when I almost tried to kiss you again. You looked at me with this terrified expression on your face, as if you regretted what had happened." His voice lowers as he explains. You don't notice the tiny dots of tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"W-why didn't you just tell me?" you murmur, the pieces falling into place as you realize your dream from last night was actually a forgotten memory.

"I panicked," Sangyeon admitted. "What if you didn't mean it at all and I just made a fool of myself? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. And I know how dumb it was of me to cut you off, but it hurt knowing that you didn't feel the same way and I would have to live with that memory every time I looked at you."

A numbing silence fills the air for a moment.

"I—I couldn't face you after knowing what your lips felt like, what it felt like to hold you. I'm a coward, I know that now. I should've apologized during the dance, but it was too late."

You stood there, frozen, as Sangyeon poured his heart out. Then he suddenly asks you a question that made your heart stop.

"If I hadn't kissed you just a while ago, would you still have talked to me? Would you have chosen me over Hyunjae?" Before you could formulate a response, your phone rang again. It was Hyunjae. Sangyeon's face fell, and he took a step back.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll finish up the work inside."

You stand frozen as Sangyeon walks away. Everything suddenly feels too intense that you don’t even realize the tears that start to run down your cheeks. You need to get out of here or else you’ll drive yourself insane.

You grab your phone, fingers hovering over Hyunjae's number. At first you hesitate, torn between telling him the truth about your feelings for Sangyeon or seeking physical comfort to forget about everything. Your irrational brain picks the latter option instead.

“My place tonight? 😉”

Everything for you was completely a blur. One minute you're standing still outside the auditorium, the next you're pouncing on Hyunjae as soon as he rings your doorbell. You were so in over your head you had no grasp of time or any coherent thought.

"Looks like someone's missed me a bit too much, hm?" Hyunjae mumbles as he kisses you messily, pressing you against your front door.

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?" You breathe out, grabbing his hair in your hands.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks before you both start hastily walking into the living room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your path.

To Hyunjae, this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you so worked up like this over him. But something about you right now seemed a bit off. Yes, seeing you incredibly horny like this was exciting, but your movements did not match the energy in your eyes. It was almost like you were on autopilot to him.

There's definitely something bothering you, he thinks. Or maybe you've been working all day and just need a way to relax. He'll probably check in on you later but for now, all he can think of is hearing those beautiful moans you make for him.

Too eager to get a taste of you, Hyunjae drags you over to your couch as he pulls you in to straddle his lap. He wastes no time littering your neck with kisses, groping your ass while you grind on his growing bulge.

"C'mere." He grabs your face in his hands, admiring little details of your face while he smiles to himself. "Tired from today?"

"Mhm." You hastily reply, wanting to not think of anything else except Hyunjae's touch. So you lean in to kiss his neck while moving your hips on his lap, your hands struggling to unbuckle his belt.

The way you answered just now threw Hyunjae off. There was definitely something wrong with you. How does he know? It was all in your eyes. Usually, you looked at Hyunjae directly when he called your attention. But now? It was like you were trying to completely avoid any sort of eye contact with him, and that was making him feel uneasy.

"Hey, uh—are you alright?" He calmly asks while gently holding your hips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You mumble against his throat. Hyunjae thought he might be overthinking, but the more you struggled to unbuckle his belt (which was not a difficult task for you in the past), he couldn't continue on with you like this.

He calls out your name, hoping you'd stop to look at him, but you don't pay him mind. He says your name two more times and you still ignore him. Instead, he grabs your wrists and holds them up to finally get your attention.

"Talk to me, please—" He searches your face, trying to get a better look at you.

"There's nothing to talk about, Hyunjae." You huff out, irritated that he suddenly halted your movements.

"You think I'm dumb? There is clearly something wrong and you don't wanna say it," he says sternly, trying not to get too irritated with how you're acting towards him.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Ugh, Hyunjae, can you just stop? It's none of your business!"

"It is my business if it's making you this upset—"

"Why do I have to tell you anyway?! It's not like you're my real boyfriend—" Your eyes widen as you suddenly regret saying those last words. And to add fuel to the fire, the way Hyunjae looks at you makes you want to vomit. You've never seen his face drop in an instant. The way the light in his eyes burned out so quick, too.

"Hyunjae, I— I didn't mean to, I'm so—"

"You're right," Hyunjae interrupts you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. But I am your friend. And I deserve to know what's been bothering you because I care about you so much I hate seeing you like this."

His stern but concerned voice hits you so fast you end up bursting into tears on the spot. Sobbing hysterically into his chest as you cry out all the pent-up emotions you locked away from tonight.

Hyunjae instantly wraps his arms around you and envelops you in a warm embrace. He gently strokes your hair while steadying his own breath, waiting for you to calm down until you feel better. You both sit in silence for a few minutes until Hyunjae's voice breaks the ice.

"It's about Sangyeon, isn't it?" He says calmly. Your head springs up in response.

"How did you—"

"The last time I saw you cry like this was when you were outside the gym during the dance." Hyunjae cups your face and wipes the remaining tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"And well… if you were crying about me, we know it's for an entirely different reason." He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"You should be with him—" Hyunjae says as he looks into your eyes. Before you can even ask, he continues. "That's who you want to be with, right? That's who you should be with right now, not me."

"Hyunjae, I—" You shake your head in disbelief. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asks with a surprised tone. "This isn't about me! It's about you. I'm not the one you need, we both know that. We both knew that at the very beginning. It was always Sangyeon." Hyunjae's voice starts getting weaker the more he speaks out the truth.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you and how you looked at him. It's clear as day that you both need each other more than you both realize it."

"But what about our agreement?" You ask him softly.

"Remember the first rule? If one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end." He pauses his thought as he looks at you a little longer, taking you to memory before letting out a big sigh.

"And besides, our agreement broke a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well—" Hyunjae's cheeks start to warm up. "I fell in love with you the night of our first time." He faintly smiles. Rule number two, if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated.

"That night, you looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. That I wasn't the guy everyone in school knew as some kind of dick. You looked at me as Hyunjae, the real Hyunjae." He brushes a hair behind your ear. "How dumb of me to fall for those pretty eyes of yours." He sighs once more, trying his best to not let you see his lips quivering.

"I'm so sorry—" You start to tear up, knowing that this would probably be the last moments you have with Hyunjae.

"Hey, don't go all soft on me just because I said that, alright?" Hyunjae tries to bring energy back into his voice.

"I knew what I was getting into. You deserve to be happy, and if I'm not the reason for your happiness and you're stuck with me, that would break my heart even more."

He grabs your face so you could look him in the eye properly. "Got it?" You nod in response.

"Now c'mon. Be a good hostess and walk me out of your apartment." Hyunjae smiles before grabbing your wrists and pulling you up from his lap.

He helps you grab your clothes on the floor and even dresses you up and does the same for himself after. By the time he sets one foot out your front door, he suddenly turns around to face you.

"Can I just have one more request from you before this is all over?" he asks.

"Oh? What would that be?" You look up at him.

"Just one kiss goodbye." He smirks playfully. You chuckle before nodding your head to give him the go signal.

You close your eyes waiting for the warmth of his lips on yours for the last time, but instead feel it on your forehead.

"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he places his hand on your shoulder and gently rubs it for the last time before completely heading out the door.

For the last couple of hours, Sangyeon did nothing but lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could still feel his heart pounding in his ears from your heated exchange at the auditorium earlier this evening. What made things worse was the fact he could still feel your lips on his, and your little sighs of pleasure were replaying in his head.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he offered to help you? Or when you leaned into his palm just like you did when you first kissed him? He couldn't stop mentally beating himself up for going off like that on you when you didn't even remember that night to begin with.

And now, not only did he pour his heart out, but there's also a guaranteed chance you may never speak to him again. He regrets this night more than keeping the truth from you.

2 A.M. was what was read on the clock of his bedside table when he turned his head. He hardly even noticed the time go by as too many thoughts and emotions were stirring in his head. His head started to ache from staying up too late.

It was difficult to forget everything that had happened between you two, but sleep seemed like the best option for him at the moment to distance himself from the issue. Sangyeon tried to close his eyes and count sheep; he could slowly start to feel himself drift into sleep until he heard loud knocks on his front door.

Pissed off, he groans and trudges to see who had interrupted his moment to fall sleep. Sangyeon swings the door open quickly, hoping to show the person on the other side his irritable mood.

"You better have a good explanation as to why you're here—" Sangyeon's eyes widen at the unexpected visitor.

"Hyunjae? What— what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Do you love her?" Hyunjae looks him in the eye.

"What?" Sangyeon's eyebrows furrow at the vague question.

"I said," Hyunjae sighs out of frustration, "Do you love her? Because she fucking loves you, man. And if you don't go over there right now—" Hyunjae takes a step forward, his figure almost towering over Sangyeon's.

"You will lose the greatest person that has ever come into your life," he asserted firmly. Out of nowhere, Hyunjae pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and shoves it into Sangyeon's hand.

"No time to explain, just go!" Hyunjae increases his voice slightly.

Sangyeon stays still for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening right now, then moves hastily to grab his phone, keys, and put on his shoes. As soon as Sangyeon locks his front door, he turns around to face Hyunjae.

"T-thanks, man. I owe you one," he humbly says. Hyunjae faintly smiles, nodding in return. A silent truce being made between the two.

Sangyeon drives to your place like a maniac, not caring if he has run any stop lights or whatever. He doesn't care at all. All he can think about is getting there in time to see you before it's too late to win you back. By the time he reaches your front door, he takes a deep breath before ringing your doorbell.

You open the door slowly, cautious about who could be visiting you at this time. The moment you peek and get a glimpse of Sangyeon's face, your face knits in confusion.

"S-Sangyeon? What are you doing here?" You look up at him. Sangyeon can see how red and puffy your eyes are; it almost makes him mentally beat himself up once more, but he will deal with that later.

"I came to see you," he matches your whisper. "Can I come in?" You nod and open the door wider as he takes off his shoes, lets himself in, and places the bouquet of flowers down on a table. You're slightly stunned as soon as you close the door and turn around to see Sangyeon standing close to you.

"W-what are you doing?" Your voice quivers as your eyes search his.

"What I should've done a long time ago—" he gently grabs your face in his palms, observing your reaction to his touch before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips. You try your best to kiss him back with the same firmness despite feeling incredibly weak from crying your eyes out the whole night.

When Sangyeon pulls away from the kiss, he then gently kisses your forehead and slowly litters your face with his kisses. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer while your eyes flutter shut and melt into his touch. Tears of joy start streaming down your face as your heartbeat slowly paces itself to a calm rhythm.

"You really hurt me, you know?" you croak.

"And I'll never do that again." Sangyeon looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." He kisses your forehead once more before pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your hips while yours move to wrap around his neck.

You stay like this for a while, basking in each other's warm embrace. As Sangyeon opens his eyes for a moment, he catches his reflection staring back at him through a mirror nearby. When his eyes drift to the back of your figure, his heartbeat starts to rise intensely.

It did not occur to him that when you opened the door, you were wearing nothing but a short and very thin nightgown. Naturally, the silk of the nightgown bunches up as his arms hold your waist, giving him a tasteful glimpse of not only your lace underwear but also the fact that the undergarment you’re wearing shows your ass beautifully.

Sangyeon suddenly starts a coughing fit, trying to beat his chest to clear his throat while you're taken aback.

"Are you okay? What happened?" You hold his shoulder while he attempts to regain his composure.

"I—uh—" He scratches the back of his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your direction. But that fails when you catch him scanning your figure and his cheeks suddenly glowing a shade of pink.

"I—I can turn around while you grab a robe." His eyes look around your apartment. You giggle at his sudden embarrassment, finding it rather endearing more than anything. You take a step closer to him, your bodies practically millimeters apart.

"It's alright Sangyeon, you can look." You try to hide the smirk forming on your lips.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, okay?" He replies, still trying to avoid your gaze. But he is instantly brought back to face you as you pull his chin with your thumb and index finger to get him to look directly into your eyes.

"But… what if I don't want you to be a gentleman tonight?" you whisper.

"Oh, thank fucking God—" Sangyeon pulls you into a heated kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck once more as his hands travel down to the doughy flesh of your ass, groping and kneading it.

Your hands are all over each other as you both struggle to make your way into your bedroom, giggling in between kisses as he nearly trips over your carpet. Sangyeon eagerly plops you down on the edge of your bed, kneeling down to match your eye level as you pull him by his shirt to swipe the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He moans into your mouth as he opens up for you, intertwining his tongue with yours as his hands rest on your lap.

Sangyeon slowly spreads your legs apart and inserts himself in between, his hands gripping your inner thighs as his lips start to travel down to your neck. You sigh out dreamily, feeling the warmth of his lips make their mark on you.

You suddenly yelp at a particular spot that Sangyeon nips. He pulls away to check if you're okay. You nod, giving him the signal to continue. Before diving back in, Sangyeon notices the spot he had nipped was already red, indicating a mark had been made prior to his own.

Hyunjae… He can already hear that laugh ringing in his ears, but decides not to let the idea get to him and focus on you right now.

Sangyeon continues to litter your neck with kisses, leaving a trail as he makes his way to kissing your inner thighs. Your breathing starts to shake as his lips inch closer to your sex. Sangyeon wasn't even near your core, and he could already feel the heat radiating from you, making him smirk against your skin before giving a featherlight kiss to the wet patch on your underwear.

"Sangyeon, please…" You whine, desperate to feel his tongue wedged between your folds.

"Shh, it’s okay," he looks up at you as he kisses your clothed mound once more. "Let me take the lead."

His fingers pull your panties to the side, feeling his length throb at the beautiful sight of your slick glistening, enticing him to just dive into you. And he does exactly that as he kisses your folds before lapping his tongue between them, taking his sweet time to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle.

You let out a loud moan as you lie back to enjoy the feeling of Sangyeon between your legs. He continues on like this for a moment until the tip of his tongue starts to circle around your sensitive bud, making your hands fly to his head to pull his face closer to your core.

His lips suck on your throbbing clit as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, curling them up to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your hips start to mindlessly move on their own as you grind yourself on Sangyeon's face. You sound incredibly hot; it spurs Sangyeon to lower his sweatpants down to free his aching cock and fist it harshly.

You start to feel your high approaching fast, the knot inside you ready to snap any second now. But the moment the vibrations of Sangyeon's groan ring against your core, you scream in ecstasy. You clench your thighs together, squeezing his head as your essence bursts in Sangyeon's mouth. For a quick moment, he thinks to himself that if he could choose to leave this earth, he would gladly go out by being suffocated between your legs.

He pulls his head away to check on you, your chest rising and falling heavily as you catch your breath. You couldn't believe the sight before you right now: Sangyeon's disheveled hair as he too catches his breath, the shine of your essence all over his mouth and chin, and the warmth of his cheeks flaring.

"T-that was—" You try to express your current state, but Sangyeon interrupts you as he quickly removes his shirt and gets up from his spot, exposing his glorious abs and his incredibly hard cock standing at attention. You were so mesmerized by his body you didn't even see him suddenly hovering over your body and kissing you like a man starved.

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart—" he mumbles against your lips. He spreads your legs further apart with his knee and lowers his weight on you, the tip of his manhood nudging your sensitive clit in the process.

Sangyeon kisses your chest, busy distracting you with the way his mouth sucks on your exposed nipple. He swiftly grabs your legs to wrap them around his torso. And in one swift moment, his thick, veiny length fills you up entirely. You both moan as he starts to roll his hips into you, pumping himself in and out of your cunt as your walls grip around him tightly.

Your bodies begin to melt into each other the longer Sangyeon fucks into your heat, all the raw emotions that have been brewing between you finally free from their confinement. He buries his head into your neck as his thrusts start to become stuttered, the throb of his length inside you signaling his high approaching. You dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, locking him in place as you also feel yourself reaching for the stars once more.

"Let go, Sangyeon, it's okay." You moan into his ear, and instantly he lets out a guttural moan as he stills his movements. His warm release bursts inside you as your own high finally falls off the edge, your walls gripping his member like a vice as he embraces you tightly in the process.

You allow yourselves to stay like this a little longer, taking the time to process everything that had just happened before Sangyeon pulls out and gets up to grab a warm towel to get you cleaned up. He freshens up a bit in your bathroom before finally joining you under the covers. You lay your head on his chest as he pulls you in for a hug.

You sigh dreamily, looking up at him as he smiles at you. You both slowly kiss once more before finally drifting to sleep, both your hearts and minds finally put at ease.

The next day, you wake up with Sangyeon hugging you close. His lips are pressed on your forehead as you feel the warmth of his breath fanning you. You smile, recalling the events of last night and finally being in Sangyeon's arms again.

You slowly peel his arms off you as you get up to use the restroom and make yourself coffee. As you finish brewing your coffee, the bouquet of flowers Sangyeon had put down on the counter catches your eye. You gently grab the bouquet and find a good vase to transfer the flowers into. A sealed envelope tucked between the flowers falls to your feet.

You pick up the envelope and scan the item in your hand for a quick moment before opening the flap and seeing the card inside. You smile to yourself as soon as you read the note, a bittersweet feeling blooming in your chest as you read:

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be crying anymore, okay? — L.HJ"

[sturn-saturn]

The Vegas Affair

pairing: matt x fem!reader

warnings: drinking, dry humping, that’s it i think???

a/n: in honor of the triplets turning 21 me and @flouvela collabed on this little fic. be nice pls and happy reading!!

WORD COUNT: 1,803

people always say, "what happens in vegas, stays in vegas."

and boy, were they right.

the whole crew was here. me, sam, colby, tara, jake, johnnie, larray, nick, matt, and chris. we're all here in vegas to celebrate the triplets' 21st birthday. they originally weren't going to do anything, but you only turn 21 once, right?

we all got settled into our hotel, and i'm rooming with matt on this trip; while getting ready for the night, he got a call from the front desk saying the party bus was here to pick us up.

matt and i go out into the hall, knock on our friends' doors, and run to the elevator, telling them the bus is here. i'm super excited because i've never been to parties like this.

we finally pile onto the party bus as the music fills our ears. matt pulls out his digital camera, a relic in the age of smartphones. he's determined to capture every wild moment that happens tonight.

though their career is based on social media, and they put out videos every week, matt wanted to vlog something for him and his brothers to remember: a night with the people he loves.

larray pops the champagne, which catches us all by surprise. "alright bitches! it's time we take over vegas!" we all cheer and hold our glasses out for him to fill.

jake, being jake, gets up and messes with the stripper pole, with johnnie smacking his ass to hype him up while we let out a laugh.

tara and i were in charge of documenting the night for the three boys, taking turns to capture the moments they may want to look back on.

the bus suddenly stopped, signaling our arrival at the nightclub.

this nightclub felt like walking into another world. the strobes of light switching from side to side, the music blasting in our ears, the colorful, sparkly outfits the party girls are wearing, and so much more.

the crew and i stood still to take it all in, and we looked at each other. "i don't know about y'all, but i'm gonna get fucked up!" larray yells, pushing past us as he gets a hold of nick's hand.

after four rounds of shots, we are all completely drunk. i take a hold of matt's camera and turn it around to capture this moment.

"how you feeling party boy?!" i yell over the music.

"i f-feel fine." he yells back, stuttering. "holy fuck. y/n... AM I DRUNK?!"

"you absolutely are," i laugh at him.

he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out his shades that he had on earlier in the day. he puts them on and smiles at the camera, crossing his arms.

"WOAHH LOOK AT MR. COOL GUY OVER HERE!" chris yells as i point the camera at him.

i'm not sure what it is; it may be the alcohol rushing through my body, or maybe the crush i've had on matt for years, but the tattoos that cover his arms, the all-black outfit he has on, and the shades resting on the bridge of his nose are making me feel the things i've been trying to ignore for so long.

"you look so hot," i mumble.

"what was that?" matt asks, as he stands up, hovering over my small frame.

"o-oh, i just said it's so hot in here," i let out an awkward giggle.

"wanna get some air?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

"no, no, it's okay. i'll be fine," i say, smiling up at him.

matt and i catch up with the rest of our friends, and we have the time of our lives. at that moment, all i can think about is how grateful i am to have found such amazing people.

we returned to the hotel and hugged each other goodnight, heading to our rooms. i place matt's digital camera on the desk as matt and i flopped on our shared bed. i grabbed my head as i winced from the pain from hitting my head on the pillow.

"holy fuck, i feel like my head is about to explode," he slurs.

"i know exactly how you feel right now," i replied, eyes shut.

"hey, y/n," matt calls out. i looked at him, "hey, matt," i replied, copying the tone of his voice.

"you looked really pretty tonight," he says, looking at me.

my cheeks flush into a rosy pink as our eyes meet, my heart beating faster than ever.

"you just looked so carefree and so beautiful. i love seeing you have fun and just be you," he whispers, his hand reaching out to tuck my stray hairs away from my face.

"matty, are you confessing to me right now?" i joke, to cover up how nervous i am at that moment.

"maybe i am," his eyes, holding an intense gaze.

"you're drunk, you fool," i say, averting my gaze away from him.

"so are you, y/n." matt looks deep into my eyes and smashes his lips against mine. my mind took a second to realize what was happening before i kissed back.

he hovers over me as i hook my ankles around his waist, flipping him over. i straddle him, rocking my hips swiftly against his clothed cock, the friction of his jeans sending me to the edge.

he grabs my hips, rutting his cock against my pussy. i let out a choked moan, "feels so good." matt licks a stripe on my neck and i feel him smirk, "does it?" he repeats the same action, filling the room with sounds of heavy breathing and me chanting matt's name like it's a mantra.

unbeknownst to us, the digital camera is still filming and caught every sound we made.

"mine," matt whispers in my ear. the word echoing then the world turns black.

i wake up to the sun shining through the blinds of the hotel room. my head was pounding from all the alcohol i consumed last night. i turn over to see matt's side of the bed empty. i get up from my spot and walk to the bathroom.

"oh good, you're awake," matt says, as he spits the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. "breakfast ends in an hour, so we should head downstairs soon."

i nod, feeling a little off. matt picked up on it and asked, "y/n, what's wrong? did you sleep alright?"

"i don't know but something feels... off? i don't know how to explain it," i replied, scratching my head as i sit on the bathroom counter, waiting for matt to finish his morning routine.

"maybe, you just need some food in you, sweetheart," he says, smiling softly.

"yeah, maybe," i reply, returning his smile.

after breakfast, matt and i decided to go to nick and chris' room with the digital camera to transfer the footage into nick's laptop. though they aren't uploading it we want to see the affairs from last night on a bigger screen.

"alright, this should transfer onto my laptop in like five minutes," nick claps his hands together.

once the footage is transferred, nick presses play, and we all sit on the couch of the hotel room with our eyes glued to the screen.

there she was, tara with a mic in her hands drunkenly singing the 90's song, "always be my baby" by mariah carey. we all laugh when nick picks up a mic and joins her.

the second clip is larray on the sidewalk, teaching sam and colby "his cool dance moves," as he liked to call them.

following clip was matt and i, attempting a makeshift dance routine and engaging in a heartfelt conversation about our friendship and the future.

"oh my god," matt groaned, burying his face in his hands as we all laughed.

"awh, matty, i'm glad you're my best friend too," i tease him, rubbing his back.

the next clip was matt with his shades on again and attempting to do some michael jackson moves with his leather jacket on.

"ok, guys, enough. this is so embarrassing," he says, laughing.

"wait, there's one more clip," chris says, pointing to the laptop.

we all shift our direction to the screen.

"wait, turn it up," nick says.

all our faces drop in unison as our ears are filled with moans and groans that obviously belong to matt and me.

"no, no, no, no," i say, getting up and running out of the hotel room.

i run to our room and locked myself in the bathroom, crying because of the embarrassment i felt.

i suddenly hear a knock on the door. "y/n... it's me, matt. can i come in?"

i unlock the door to let him in and he closes it behind him.

"y/n. what do you feel right now? hm?" he asks, crouching in front of me on the floor.

"i don't know. I feel embarrassed that your brothers saw that, and I didn't know the camera was still on. i'm so sorry, matt," i rambled as i sob into my hands.

"hey, look at me," he says, lifting my chin with his finger and wiping my tears away.

"you have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. your feelings are valid. is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"

"i don't know. it's just.. i-i've liked you for so long, and maybe last night was a mistake, maybe it wasn't. if you want to forget about it, i can do that. i can act like it never happened."

"hey, hey, hey y/n. i enjoyed last night. i just want to make sure you're alright. the camera being on was just a mistake, i'm not upset about that, alright? and i've liked you for a while too, you know," he smiles at me, trying his best to comfort me.

we sit on the bathroom floor for a bit before we hear nick and chris on the other side of the door asking if they can come in as well.

matt unlocks the door to the bathroom and the other two walk in.

"are you okay, y/n?" nick asks.

"yeah, just a little embarrassed, i guess," i say looking down.

"well, you know what they say 'what happens in vegas, stays in vegas'" chris says, a smug smile on his face.

"oh, fuck off!" me, nick, and matt yell, looking at chris and we all burst out into laughter.

one thing i'll forever be grateful for is having these three boys in my life. we made a silent vow to cherish the everlasting memories we made last night with our favorite people.

well, i guess vegas have brought us all closer in more ways than one, if you know what i mean.

[woodle-isbae]

Could you please do anything that's male reader X Joost? There are almost no fics with male reader I'm dying out here 😭

One night only

Fratboy!Joost klein x fratboy!reader

Warnings: Frat boys! , drinking , smoking , smut , PiA , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it) , joost is a jock and reader is a theater kid , bottom!Joost , Top reader

Drunken bodies all over eachother , music blasting from the speakers and people basically black out drunk outside

You and a few friends hosted one of the craziest parties of the semester , free entry and plus ones allowed. You even had three? Four? Of your teachers there aswell , to "chaperone"

"You all enjoying the party!!?"

The DJ you hired hyping up everyone , including you , who was equally drunk as everyone else on the property

Heading to the kitchen to get another drink , moving past the drunk girls and horny couples grinding against eachother , slightly cringing at them

"They're fucking disgusting-"

You whipped your head around at the sudden voice behind you , it was a blue eyed blond man , not much taller than you but had some height.

He had to be a jock

"Oh..uh, yeah..but im not shocked , kinda expected it"

"Still disgusting."

There was an awkward silence between you two before he gulped down his drink and introduced himself as 'Joost'.

Joost Klein , played rugby - star captain- he's well known amongst the people in your year. An icon and playboy , usually hopping from girl to girl .

Unlike you , a total theatere kid , even for your little hobby you were very well known , basically on the same level as Joost in popularity

It was rare that you guys were near eachother , and even more rare for you guys to be talking

An hour passed of you guys talking and playing beer games , eventually settling down in your bedroom balcony, sharing a joint and taking in the cool summer air , the muffled sounds of music and cheers comming from downstairs

"Have you ever...nevermin-"

"C'mon Joostie , don't be shy"

Your interjection catching him off guard as he stared at you for a moment , huffing to himself as he turned a faint shade of pink , taking a gulp of his drink before he looked you in the eye , taking in a breath

"Have you ever had sex. . .with a guy?"

There was a silence between you two , his pink face turning red , embarrassed by his question , biting on his lip.

"I'm sorry it was a du-"

"Yeah , I have"

The silence returning before he continued his questioning

"How was it-? , like did you take it or-"

"I'm more of a giver , it's a fun experience tho"

"Ah..I see.."

You finally turned over to look at him , head resting on your hand , which was on the mini table , scanning his face for a bit.

"You wanna try it out?"

° ☆ °

"Okay..take a breath in , it's gonna hurt a bit"

"Y-yeah okay-"

You currently had him face down into the pillow , fully exposed and your finger lubed up.You gave him a blow job prior , just to relax his nerves a bit

You slowly prodded your finger inside him , pausing halfway to give him time to adjust before you put your finger in fully , giving him a few minutes to get used to the feeling

"Y'ready?"

He mumbled a shaky yes , nodding his heads aswell. His body jerking as you began to move your finger inside him , searching for that spongey spot.

"W-wait..ah-!"

He choked out a moan ,his body trembled and legs shook as he came.

There is it

"Haven't even finished stretching you out yet."

"What just happened-?"

He turned over to look at you , still catching his breath. . .only to be met with a sly smirk from you

"Don't stress it , just have fun"

He was slightly weirded out by how quick he came , allowing himself to relax once more and turn over , stuffing his face in the pillow as you continued stretching him out to your liking

"Okay. . .I'm gonna enter now..take a breath in"

Lining yourself up and slowly entering , his breath hitched as his body trembled

"You'll tell me when I can start moving."

Bottoming out in him , steading his hips against yours as you caught your breath , waiting for him to adjust

"You can-. . .you can move"

"I'll be slow"

You began moving your hips at a steady and slow rhythm , trying your best to make him comfortable.

After a while your movements became more erratic, your grip on his hips nearly bruising as your thrusts were animalistic , knocking a yelp and whine out of the larger man bellow you

"I-ah!-I'm gonna c..Um!"

The way he was barely coherent and rambling out profanities and pleading for more had you at your edge , his back resting against your chest while your hips continued their movement which was becoming unstable

"C'mon Joostie , let it out-shit.-y'can do it"

Your words of praise was just enough to get him to his breaking point , he shuddered and tightened against you , spilling all om the sheets underneath him before his body gave out and fell limp from overstimulation

You pulled out quickly and came on his lower back , catching your breath as you layed next to him.

The world comming back to the both of you , the cheering and music that was erupting from the party still going on downstairs

You went to go get a warm cloth and a bottle of water from your mini fridge, cleaning him up and helping him get his boxers back on , along with your own

"Y'have fun?"

"I'd do it again..definitely"

[green-alm0nd]

[Rex x Jedi!gn!reader]: Let me help you

----

----

Summary:

Jedi can't show feelings, yet your insecurities have not been really noticed by anyone. Except for the Captain of the 501st battalion, who happens to have feelings for you and can't stand seeing you hurt yourself.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ANGST, MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM IN THE FORM OF SCRATCHING, AND CUTTING, lots of feelings, insecure reader, comfort, slightly suggestive in some parts, sad Rex hours, protective Rex, drinking, fluff, mild mentions of a panic attack, angst with a happy ending. Kinda self indulgent but that's not the point. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: I'm not really happy how this came out, but it's not the worst fanfic I've ever made. In my mind, it was supposed to go one way and when I wrote it it took a whole other turn. I'll probably edit it at some point.

----

"'Ner Nau', a Mando'a word that means 'light', or, 'My light'."

----

Rain fell over Coruscant, coating the planet in a translucent veil. The city lights and the sounds of speeders flying everywhere made it look more melancholic than it actually was.

79's was as busy as ever, having won a fight against a bunch of Separatists droids had the 501st bursting with confidence. Which was, of course, understandable. Twi'lek waiters and waitresses served drinks to the clones, some already drunk, others with slightly more tolerance. They danced, laughed and enjoyed since the night was still young.

There stood Rex, proud of his men, yet embarrassed at the sight of his squad acting like a bunch of kids celebrating their birthday. The clone took a sip of his drink, and awkwardly looked away whenever he received some sort of whistle or sway of hips coming from any of the waiters or waitresses. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortably staring at the doors of the bar.

You came through the door, looking exhausted. Rex's face immediately brightened, and he left his drink aside, walking towards you.

"General." He greeted, with a small nod. You were looking extremely attractive, despite you were wearing the same Jedi robes as ever.

"Captain." You greeted back, with a small smile.

When Rex looked back at you, he couldn't help but notice the bags under your eyes, and the overall exhaustion that you seemed to show: slumped shoulders instead of a confident pose, tired eyes instead of ones filled with determination, no one needed to be an expert to know something was up.

"If I knew you'd be this exhausted, I wouldn't have invited you here in the first place."

You shrugged it off.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Today's battle was tiring for all of us, except for you lot. I've never seen a squad with such energy." You remarked, smiling fondly at the celebration they were having.

Rex let out a light chuckle.

"Yeah, my boys are like this every time."

He motioned at the bartender.

"Want me to get you a drink?" He asked.

You shook your head no.

"Nah, I'm fine." You replied, still taking a sit next to his. Your hands rested on your lap, looking around the clone bar.

You had to admit, Rex looked extremely attractive under the lights of 79's. His armour hugged his body perfectly, and his face didn't have that frown he held in battle. His face was relaxed, and calm. While you were slightly, not to say clearly, tense.

Red, green, and blue shone repeatedly, in an almost overwhelming dance. Music blasted off the loudspeakers, someone with sensitive ears might've found it annoyingly loud.

Some clones approached you, and you kept a light conversation with them. Rex watched from the side, taking small sips from his drink as he stared in awe. Even though you looked exhausted and slightly uncomfortable, you made sure to talk to people. He admired how strong-willed you were.

Until, he saw them, that is.

He stopped for a moment, his smile instantly dropping and his brow furrowing. Your Jedi robes lifted up at the exact moment where he could see some spots on your hands and wrists that were in a lighter, pinkish colour.

He frowned, weirded out by the small spots on your hands. He knew what they were, it wasn't the first time he had seen them. He had a few scars on his own, war always left a scar. But yours...yours were different.

Yours were cuts. Yours were scratches. And they weren't old. They were clean cuts, and that scared Rex.

He stared at you, at your smile, which no longer seemed like the smile that made his heart beat faster. It was fake, false, so...not you.

His head started making up questions. How did you get them? Did someone do something to you? Did you inflict them upon yourself? Had this happened before?

Had he been so dumb he hadn't realised?

He didn't want to make you uncomfortable while you spoke to the other clones, so he waited. The taste of spotchka left bitter in his mouth, no longer craving for a drink. Eventually, you and Rex were alone again, and you felt his uneasiness through the Force. His signature was tense, and a tad agitated. He spun the glass with his hand, the drink following the lazy yet tense movement. His lip quivered slightly before he started talking.

"What are those?" He asked, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours.

You didn't have to ask what he meant, based on his rigid and stiff pose, his eyes never leaving yours. You tried puffing your chest, trying to look more confident as a defence mechanism.

"War brings scars. As a Captain, you should perfectly know what it means." You excused, heart beating in anticipation.

Rex shook his head. He gripped his glass cup. How could he have been so oblivious?

"I've met many clones, people and Jedi in my time. But none lied as bad as you are lying right now."

Your view shifted to the ground. You expected disappointment, anger, and discontentment. Yet, Rex's voice remained unreadable.

"What are those, Ner Nau?" He asked, no hint of anger nor disappointment. Just worry.

Your mind went into overdrive. Your gaze started darting around. Had others noticed? Were the other clones looking at you? Did they know? You felt yourself dissociating from reality, hiding your consciousness in the darkest corner of your mind. Your breathing became more erratic, and you found yourself unable to breathe. It was pathetic, you felt pathetic. A Jedi is supposed to keep their cool, to learn to control their emotions. However, Rex had always been able to break the glass that separated control from feeling. If all clones saw you like this, it could be bad. It was already bad enough that Rex was seeing you in a weak moment, you had to get out of there immediately.

Rex's words felt like a broken, dusty record. You couldn't make up the words, he seemed genuinely confused and concerned. Your senses came back, but your panic attack didn't leave as fast as it came. You felt dizzy from hyperventilating, and you needed some fresh air.

"I have to go." You said, before getting up and leaving Rex alone.

....

Rex was left alone. He wondered how you'd get back to the Jedi Temple with the pouring rain, though that wasn't even the main problem. He had seen something that filled his body with dread. And the person he felt the closest to refused to open up to him, and it saddened the clone.

He thought about it, wanting to chase after you. However, everything had happened too quickly, and the last thing he wanted was to make you more uncomfortable than you already were.

He took a sip of his drink before heading back to his headquarters, thinking about the recent events that had taken place, and if his question had ruined the friendship he valued the most.

....

Rain continued to fall on Coruscant, clouds covering the stars that orbited around the planet. The Jedi Temple was unusually quiet, the sounds of steps being the only thing that kept the sanction from complete silence.

You were in your barracks, preparing a few things as you were going on a mission. You felt truly embarrassed for what had happened the previous night, only making a fool out of yourself and Rex even more worried than he already was. You made sure to cover your arms well, though it had been hard to hide the scratches on your knuckles, fueled by the nervousness and the need for some sort of release.

You took a deep breath, and exited your barracks.

Jedi were walking around the temple, each focused on their own task. Most of the time, Jedi were egocentric, only focusing on controlling their emotions and not helping those who mentally screamed for help. It bothered you, yet you focused on other stuff, since thoughts like those could lead you to the Dark Side. Then again, at this point it felt better to let emotions release and not just bottle them up like everyone around you did.

On the way to the hangar, you felt a hand pull you to a room. It grabbed you from your sleeve, and slid you towards the right of the corridor.

Rex.

The door automatically closed, and you found yourself alone in the room with the clone you loved the most. He had left his helmet on a small table on the side of the room. His expression remained stoic, yet he seemed worried.

"Tell me. There's no one here. You can trust me, I won't tell the Council, I won't tell anyone." He said, almost desperately.

You were taken aback by his sudden behaviour, how this strong-willed clone Captain looked so worried and concerned for you.

"I know what those are. I've seen them before; why didn't you tell me? I could've- I could've done something."

You stared at him, trying to keep it together. You didn't want to break down in front of the person you loved the most.

"Rex, it's... complicated. It's a lot more deeper than you think." Your reply didn't seem to work on Rex, he felt guilty for not realising what you were going through.

The clone took your hands in his, butterflies erupting from your stomach at the mere touch. But that pleasant feeling in your stomach was quickly replaced by dread when Rex stopped in his tracks. He felt the slightly rough surface on your hands, scratches that could be quickly dismissed by saying it had been a loth-cat; scratches you had made yourself. Inflicted upon yourself.

He stared at you, a silent plea, waiting for the consent to see how far your pain went to.

You had nothing left to lose. After all, you already had the chance to lose his friendship. You looked away, letting him.

Rex carefully lifted up your sleeves. The clone braced himself for the worst, and slid your sleeves to your elbows. He felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs by a punch. Clean, and somehow concise cuts rested on your skin.

You felt ashamed that you had left Rex see your arms in the first place. However, when you stared at him, he stared at you back, a pleading look in his eyes yet again. You knew he was trying to nonverbally ask for permission to touch your scars, and even though you risked your friendship even more, you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable.

His hands slowly touched one of the scars, slowly sliding down from your elbow to your wrist. His fingertips traced and rested on the bumps on your skin; some deeper, some not so deep, a constant reminder of the neverending pain you had to endure.

His eyes tried to search for yours.

"Ner Nau..." He whispered, caressing your scars. It wasn't painful, in any way, it was more of a temporary remedy that were his fingertips.

"You're wonderful. How could you even do something like this? Why didn't you ask for help? Why didn't you let me help you?" He asked, staring intently.

Your eyes widened, surprised at his question. You couldn't believe Rex's reaction. Yet there it was, no one else in that room, a worried friend trying to comfort the hurt.

"Asking for help doesn't make you weak." He assured, bringing his lips to your scars, trying to somehow ease the pain.

He kissed every single one of those small bumps, a silent support, and his acts, a comforting lull, making sure you felt loved.

"You matter. Don't do this to yourself."

That's when you finally broke.

Your eyes filled with tears, as you quietly sobbed. Rex slowly wrapped his arms around you, providing you with the comfort you needed at that moment.

"It's alright. I've got you now." He reassured.

And ever since that day, Rex became a lighthouse, a guiding spark that helped you out, that showed you were loved, and to show that the clone Captain loved you.

----

Not very satisfied with this one but I'm also working on headcanons ideas that I like more.

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open!

[allthingsfangirl101]

Enemies to Lovers – Joe Keery

I have lived next to Joe Keery for two years and those two years have been hell. He has parties every weekend, trashes the hallway, blasts music, slams doors, smokes, makes passive-aggressive comments when I run into him, and is just a horrible neighbor.

"Up early and out early. Like always, Ms. Y/L/N," Joe said as soon as I left my apartment. I looked up and saw him unlocking his door.

"Up late and home late. Like always, Mr. Keery," I sighed as I locked the door. I turned around, my heart sinking into my stomach when I saw the bruise on his cheek and the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

"Are you alright?" I asked. My question made him freeze. He glanced at me before down at his wrist.

"Oh," he said slowly. He looked up at me and smiled softly, "I'm fine. Just a stupid accident on set that I made worse."

"How'd you make it worse?"

"I got drunk," he laughed. I smiled but quickly stopped.

"You should get some sleep," I said, clearing my throat.

"And you should get to work," he said, matching my tone.

I walked toward the elevator as Joe walked into his apartment. As I headed to work, I went back over my and Joe's strange interaction that morning.

I went through my day, forcing myself to forget about my neighbor. After a long shift, I happily left for the day. I got home, my entire body aching. As I unlocked the door, Joe left his apartment.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," he teased. I nodded but didn't say anything. "You okay?" He asked as I opened my door.

"Just tired," I shrugged.

"From shopping all day?" He smirked. I glared at him before walking into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

Well, never mind. It looks like that moment of weakness Joe had this morning was just that. A moment.

* * * * *

I went about my normal week and it wasn't until the weekend that I noticed I hadn't seen Joe since the other day. I walked into my apartment Friday night with a fresh bottle of wine and some takeout.

The takeout was finished and I was working on the bottle of wine when there was a crash outside.

"Actor Boy is home," I mumbled. I sighed when there was another cash. "And drunk."

I started to stand up but giggled when I drunkenly fell back onto the couch.

"I guess I am too," I laughed. I jumped when there was a loud knock on my door. I sighed and slowly stood up. Once I had my bearings, I walked to the front door. I reached for the handle but froze when I heard his voice.

"Y/N! Open the damn door!"

I took a step back, my hands instantly starting to shake. Everything froze as he continued to pound on my door. I held my breath, silently praying for him to leave.

"Hey!"

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard Joe. I looked at my watch and mumbled under my breath, "What are you doing home? Please go back to work."

"Go away," my ex-boyfriend Scott laughed.

"Please go, Joe," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

"No," Joe said flatly. "What are you doing here? And why are you knocking on that door like an ass?"

"This doesn't concern you," Scott spat at him.

"Yeah, it does," Joe responded, his anger slowly rising.

"Oh, really?" Scott laughed. "Are you dating my leftovers?"

"You're the dumbass who lost a five-star meal."

I didn't know if I should be flattered or offended. Joe was standing up for me, but it kind of felt like an insult.

"I threw it out when it lost its flavor," Scott said through bared teeth.

That was definitely an insult.

"Wait, what?" Joe asked with the sole purpose of pissing Scott off. "I'm sorry, man. You kinda lost me. Are you saying you dumped Y/N?"

My heart flipped when Joe started laughing. "Yes," Scott seethed. "I dumped her."

"You see," Joe sighed, "I just can't believe that. I don't believe that you would dump a girl as gorgeous as Y/N. She would definitely dump you when she realized you were a piece of drunk shit that probably never got her to finish. . ."

I swung the door open, knowing that what Joe was saying was only going to end one way. And I was right. Scott had his fist clenched and his arm raised, but he stopped himself when he heard my door open.

"There it is," he said, breathing heavily as he turned around. I glanced behind him at Joe. He took a step closer, carefully watching me.

"What do you want, Scott?"

"I wanted to allow you to beg for me back," he slurred. Joe was watching us closely with his fists clenched.

"I don't want you back."

I gasped and took a step back when Scott's drunk glare darkened. "You don't want me back," he seethed. "Wow. You ungrateful little. . ."

He raised his hand again but he didn't stop himself. My eyes widened when I realized it was Joe who stopped Scott by grabbing his elbow.

"I know you weren't about to hit a woman," he threatened. "You sure as hell weren't going to hit that woman."

"I told you, Hollywood, this doesn't concern you." Scott tore his elbow out of Joe's hand and took a step closer to me. Joe didn't let him get any closer. My heart jumped into my throat when Joe instantly put himself between me and Scott.

"It concerns me when you're threatening a woman," Joe said, the tone of his voice changing again. "It definitely concerns me when the woman you're threatening is my neighbor."

"Neighbor," Scott laughed. "I'm sure Hollywood's Party Boy just loooves living next to Nerdy Stay-at-Home Bookworm. I bet she complains about your partying. How many?"

"How many what?" Joe asked through clenched teeth.

"How many times has she called the cops on you, Keery?" Scott smirked. "How many times has she demanded you turn down the music or stop leaving empty kegs in the hallway or having sex in the elevator?"

"The only woman I've hooked up with in the elevator is Y/N," Joe said making my stomach flip.

We have never done anything close to hooking up in the elevator or anywhere else in the building. He clearly said that for one reason and one reason only; to get under Scott's skin. And it worked.

"Y/N hates hooking up anywhere other than the bedroom," Scott said, his voice dropping.

"Maybe all she needed was the right guy to take her in the elevator," Joe smirked.

I gasped when Scott's glare darkened. I took a step closer to Joe, gently putting my hands on his shoulder blades. "Joe," I whispered, "Please don't push him."

"Alright," Joe sighed. "You're making my girl nervous so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

I was too scared of Scott's murderous glare to react to Joe calling me his girl.

"Leave?" Scott laughed. "I'm not going anywhere until I talk to her."

"Well, that's a problem."

"And why is that, Lover-boy?" Scott asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because I'm not letting you talk to her."

For once, Joe's tone made me nervous. I looked around and saw the glare on his face. As he stared down my ex, he reached behind himself and grabbed my hand.

"I'm only going to tell you one more time," he threatened. "Leave our place or I swear, you'll never be able to use that hand to pleasure yourself again."

"Our place?"

I caught on to that too.

"You two live together?!"

I knew it was going to happen before Scott even made a move. I guess Joe knew that too because he instantly reacted. He pushed me further behind him and hit Scott's jaw before he could do anything.

I stood there, frozen against my front door, as Scott fell to the floor.

"Guess I'm going to have to give you one last warning," Joe said, his voice dark. "Leave Y/N alone or you'll only be known as the loser ex who got his ass kicked by her current boyfriend."

Without looking at me, Joe grabbed my hand and pulled us into my apartment. He let go of my hand and instantly ran his fingers through his hair. I watched as he angrily paced back and forth across my living room.

"Thank you," I whispered with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. My voice made him look up at me.

"Of course," he said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," I said as I tightened my arms and focused on my feet. I held my breath when Joe's shoes came into view.

"Y/N," he said under his breath. "Look at me. Please?"

I took a shaky breath and struggled to hide my tears as I looked up at him. His eyes softened when he saw the expression on my face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Before I could lie and tell him I was fine, he said, "It's okay if you're not. Talk to me, Y/N."

"It's nothing," I started to say.

"Come on, Y/N," Joe sighed. "At least tell me who that guy was."

Joe's face dropped when he figured it out for himself. He took a step closer to me and lowered his voice. "I was right," he whispered. "That guy is your ex."

I bit my lip as the tears started to spill even though I tried to stop them. Joe reached up and gently caught one.

"He used to hurt you."

He didn't say that like it was a question. Then again, from everything that just happened, it wasn't that hard to figure out.

"Listen to me, Y/N," he said under his breath, "he will never hurt you again. Alright? I promise."

"You can't promise that," I sighed. He reached over and grabbed my hands, making me look at him.

"The next time you see him, even if it's across the street, you call me."

"But. . ."

"Promise me," he cut me off. "The next time you see him, you call me."

"I promise."

We stared at each other, the tension thick. For some reason, I spoke up.

"You want a beer?"

"I could go for a beer," Joe chuckled.

* * * * *

Joe and I ended up drinking and watching a movie. As the credits rolled and my mind incredibly hazy from the drinks, I looked over and my stomach did some weird flip. I gasped when Joe looked over at me.

"You good?" He asked.

"You can go home now," I said, my heart sinking at those words. I looked at him to see him with an odd look on his face.

"Is that what you want?" Joe asked.

"I figured you'd want to go home," I shrugged. "It's been a weird and long night. You've already done enough. . ."

"I'm not going anywhere if you feel safer with me here," he said, gently cutting me off. His eyes widened like he just realized what he said. He opened his mouth to take back what he said, but I spoke up.

"I do." I paused before adding, "Are you okay with staying?"

"I'll stay for as long as you want me."

Joe's eyes glanced down at my lips. When he looked back up at my eyes, he slowly leaned in. I had my chance to stop him, but I didn't. Soon, his lips were pressed against mine.

Part 2

[indiee19]

From The Backseat

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: At a party, (AM!) Alex takes you to his car and fucks you

Word Count: 2,030

a/n: i missed writing so much. part 2 is being written at the moment. enjoy!!

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

The music was loud. The drinks were strong. And you were having a blast. You ended up at this L.A. party with three of your friends after they asked for you to join since you hadn't been out in a while. They were excited to say the least when you said yes to their request.

"Honey!!" Your friend Bianca shouted over the blaring music. "Are you having a shit ton of fun because I sure as hell am!" Bianca was one of the three friends you came with, the others being Naomi and Chloe.

You replied with, "Yes, B, I'm having a shit ton of fun." She smiled happily, hugging you. She absolutely reeked of whiskey and vodka. "How much have you had to drink?" You asked.

She giggled. "Oh, just a teeny, tiny amount," she said while pinching her fingers to show 'how little' she drank, slightly leaning on you. Bianca's head perked up though when she saw a handsome man staring at you. "Oh, honey, I think someone likes what he sees," she pointed at the stranger staring at you from across the room.

The stranger was wearing black pants, black boots and a white button up that had very few buttons done up on it. His hair was dark and styled back into a gelled quiff. He looked extremely fucking hot. In his right hand was a glass of what looked like whiskey. And a ring adorned one of his pinky fingers.

Just as he was staring at you, you began to stare at him. Your eyes met for just a split second and immediately you blushed and looked away. Bianca noticed. "And I can see that you like what you're looking at, too," she smirked.

The stranger smirked and placed his glass down on the table beside him. He began to walk over to you. The colored lights from the party illuminated him and his features, making his sharp jawline stand out even more. The lights accentuated his nose and you could see his biceps slightly through the material of his shirt. God, he was fine.

He finally reached you and leaned his arm against the bar behind you. "I'm Alex. And you are?" His voice was thick with a Yorkshire accent and that made him even more hot. You took a moment to answer him, still in disbelief that he was talking to you. But you eventually told him your name.

"And I-I'm Bianca, if you cared to know. Which you don't. So I'm just gonna go find Naomi and Chloe," Bianca said, embarrassed that she introduced herself like that. You and Alex laughed. "Have fun, honey," she said as she walked away. You were absolutely positive she sobered up just to say that and see your reaction.

"Sorry about Bianca, she's a little drunk," you laughed. He chuckled out, "It's no problem, me friends are a little drunk, too."

You laughed because of the irony. Neither you or Alex were drunk. Yeah, you'd both had your fair share of drinks, but you weren't drunk by any means. Hell, neither of you were barely tipsy. Yet, all of your friends were just a little drunk or tipsy.

"I seen you from across the room," he said.

"I saw you staring at me," you replied, a small smirk appearing upon your face.

"You were staring, too," he smirked back. Before, you couldn't really smell his cologne but now you really could. The smell of it and his voice was all you focused on as you looked at him and him only. "What about it?" You were quick to reply, trying to sound confident in front of Alex.

"Well, you see, we both have something in common," he raised his eyebrow at you.

"And what might that be?"

Alex leaned in closer. As he spoke you could feel his breath on your neck. "We both like what we see, and I think you and me both would like to act on it."

The way he spoke drove you mad. His voice alone got you wet. Your eyes met his and you bit your lip. "Would you like that, doll?" He asked, slightly deepening his voice. You sighed, "Yes." It was just loud enough for Alex to hear.

His free hand reached up towards your neck and he whispered in your ear. "Then, follow me so I can fuck the shit out of you." That did you in.

-

Mere minutes later, you were pushed up against a wall by the bathrooms. No one was around and you and Alex were too eager to wait any longer. His hands went to your thighs and forced you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He was about to carry you into the bathroom, and then he heard someone coming towards you both. "Fuck," he sighed. He had to think quickly and think quickly he did. He sat you down on the ground and grabbed your hand. "Follow me," he said.

You asked, "Where are we going?"

"To my car. I'm gonna fuck you in the backseat," he quickly replied. Fuck. The idea of getting fucked in his car riled you up. Fucking in the bathroom was one thing because there were walls and no one could see you. Fucking in the car meant that you could be caught just by someone walking past you both.

He was quick to lead you out to his car, more eager than you were to fuck. Quickly, he unlocked the black car and opened the door to the backseat. "Get in," he said, motioning for you to get in as quickly as you could. He followed and grabbed you by the neck. "The one good thing about fucking in a car instead of the bathroom is that you can be as loud as you want," he smirked. He pulled you in for a kiss and his hands went to work to get your blouse off. He pushed it off your shoulders and threw it into the front seat so it'd be out of your way.

You undid the few buttons on his shirt and threw it into the front seat as well. Alex's hands started to caress your chest and he pulled away and asked if he could take your bra off. You nodded and he was quick to do so. He started to caress your breasts and he dipped your head down to bring one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hand entangled in his hair, slightly messing it up, pulling on it. One of his hands fondled your other breasts, and the other went down to your shorts, tugging on the button as if he were asking if he could take them off.

He lifted his head away from your breast and he was quick to get rid of your heels. Then he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly pulling the zipper down, teasing you. Then he pulled them off along with your panties. "Fuck," he almost moaned. "You're so fucking hot."

He pushed you completely down on the seat and he went to kiss you, one of his hands going to tease through your folds. "Shit, you're so fucking wet. . . All for me?" He smirked.

"Y-Yes," right as you replied he pushed in two of his calloused fingers, slipping in easily from how wet you had become. You gasped at the push and closed your eyes. Slowly, he pumped his fingers in and out of you. In and out. In and out. Over and over again, getting you closer to the edge.

His head went to your neck, sucking on a spot as his thumb found your clit, rubbing circles on it. You tugged on his hair and started to moan. His fingers sped up, as did his sucking on your neck. Goddamn did he know how to use his fingers.

"I'm close," you moaned, pulling on his hair.

"Cum on my fingers, doll," he rasped out, pressing down hard on your clit whilst harshly pumping his fingers. The feeling pushed you over the edge. Moaning as your walls closed around his fingers, panting when you come down from the high.

He pulled his face away from your neck and looked at you. His lips were flushed and his hair was messed up from where you'd pulled on it. "Fuck, you're fucking hot," he said, quickly sitting up to unbutton his pants, pulling them down just far enough with his boxers to pull out his cock.

Alex was painfully hard and precum was leaking from the tip. He maneuvered himself just a little to be sitting over you before grabbing your legs and spreading them for him. One of his hands kept your leg spread open and the other went to line his cock up with your entrance. He began to push in and you were so wet that it took one thrust for him to be completely inside you.

You let out a loud moan and shut your eyes when he started to move. His hands were both now situated on your legs, holding them open and using them for leverage as he thrusts in and out. Alex was letting out loud moans, head thrown back, mouth agape. He took your legs and pushed them up as close to your chest as he could, making you feel him even deeper.

Your hands grabbed at his biceps and pulled him down to kiss you. And you don't know how, but he felt even bigger and deeper than previously. Your hands went to his back and started to scratch down it. He sped up when you did. "Fuck . . . fuck me, you feel good," Alex moaned. He pulled you over so that you could be on top of him.

He grabbed your hips when you were taking too long to move and he started to pull you up and down on his cock. Every time he pulled you down onto him, he thrust upwards, making sure that you feel all of him.

Then, his thumb went to your clit, rubbing hard and fast. "Oh, fuck," you said, hands gripping his shoulders. "I'm gonna cum," you said.

"Cum all on my cock, doll," he rubbed your clit harder and thrust as fast as he could. One final thrust and harsh flick to your clit was enough to push you over the edge. You let out a loud moan and threw your head back, tightening your grip on his shoulders as he kept moving you on his cock. Your walls fluttered around him and you collapsed against as he still kept moving.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum. . . Where do you want it?" Alex moaned.

"In my mouth," you said. He pushed you off of him and you got on your knees to take him into your mouth. "Fuck," he moaned out, hand gripping your hair and pulling it to move you up and down on him. Your mouth was warm around him, making him moan at the feeling.

His tip hit the back of your throat every time you bobbed your head. You hollowed your cheeks around him, licking his tip. "Fuck, your throat feels amazing," he moaned, starting to thrust his hips into your mouth. Then, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and he finally came, thrusting wildly into your mouth, holding you down on him.

Once he came down, he pulled you off his cock and pulled you in for a kiss. He began to deepen it before you pulled away to catch your breath. "Can't get enough of you, I swear," he said in a lower voice tone. "Would fuck you all night if I could."

You bit your lip at the idea. Alex noticed and lightly chuckled. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He smirked.

"Y-Yes," you said.

"Why don't we take this back to my place then?"

[savvyreyes4587]

Never give me your back

(Pm!Dazai x Gifted!FemReader)

Nakahara Chuuya x Gifted!femReader (but not really?)

Summary: To say it was your plan to be at Yokohama's most famous hotel and in its casino\club wouldn't be true but what wasn't really in your plans was meeting a certain redhead and the baggage that came with him.

Author's Note: So here is the prologue and let's see how it works from here, also slightly edited so ignore any mistakes if you find one, also Dazai, Reader and Chuuya are 16 here.

Info: Wc(2k-ish) Violence, drinking, gun and bullets, I suppose.

Go to Life Waster Series

Dazai Osamu prided himself by how intelligent he was and how he managed to look beyond and see what others couldn't and that was exactly what had him frustrated in this very moment… What was it that he was missing?

The slug had told him that the sheep were looking for a certain someone, someone that Chuuya implied was like him in some aspects but to no avail, not the sheep, not the government… no one was able to find that person.

No matter how many paths Dazai followed, they all led to dead ends and now, he was faced with the choice of finding that person no matter the cost or it would be his end, at least in his eyes.

"Sir?" Someone calls for Dazai and he had half the mind to shoot whoever it was that broke his chain of thoughts but then his eyes drifted to the security cams on his desk, showing a live stream of the HQs casino slash nightclub and Dazai's eyes doubled in size when he saw…

He only thought to himself at that moment as his hand tightened around the gun in his hand… There is no way the slug figured it out before me.

Earlier that night

You regretted the decision you made the second you made it, why did you listen to Keisuke? That man didn't know shit about you yet he did but perhaps you should have stayed home instead of accompanying him to the meeting he had.

The Shady meeting he had if you might add because nothing about this meeting was normal in any shape or form and your gut feeling has been giving you signs since he told you about it but the nature of humans being the way it was… you ignored it.

Now, your ignorance had you sitting at the bar in one of the most expensive hotels in Yokohama, drinking scotch and questioning your existence… not a good combination by the way.

The other thing that had your stomach twisting with nerves was the fact that if anyone here caught wind of who you were… it would be over for you and whoever decided to tell on you.

You took in a shaky breath, hand barely able to hold the glass that contained your drink and you figured that the only way to calm yourself was probably to get somewhat drunk and loosen your nerves.

Without a second thought, you downed your drink, fighting against the burn that settled in your throat and the slight sting in your eyes and you had to close your eyes momentarily to steady yourself which also served as a reminder to why you didn't usually drink.

Everything suddenly felt heightend for you, the music was overwhelming, the speakers blasting, the movements of people around you and it made you feel like wanting to crawl out of your own skin, a sensory overload.

You needed to disconnect from all this, you had to but you also knew that the way your hand began clawing and scratching at your arm was no good sign… you had to stop… scratch harder… no, stop… draw blood…

The hand you used to claw at your arm was beginning to dig deeper, to draw blood but that's not what you wanted so why didn't it stop… Why wouldn't it stop?

Stop it! You are my greatest creation and I won't have your anxiety ruin it.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Go away. You're not here anymore.

I'm not yours anymore, I'm not-

You just realised that your hand was stuck, no longer sedating the unexplainable itchiness and you looked down to figure out what had it stuck but the moment you did you saw it.

It wasn't a what, it was a who. There was a gloved hand holding yours, keeping it away from your now red and angry arm and your brain didn't even comprehend the whole thing until the person who held your hand talked.

"Take it easy, Doll. Deep breaths." His voice was so… calm and relaxed and it somehow drowned the other sounds around you, making that dark cloud of thoughts disappear.

Your raised your head, your eyes meeting those cobalt blue ones that stared into your soul and you wondered if he could recognise how fucked up you were with the look he was giving you.

But something was still off about you and you couldn't for the life of you figure out what it was.

"Sorry to break it to ya but you kind of need to breathe, Doll." The redhead spoke again and you now understood what was wrong with you… you might have left the state you were in but your body was still in defence mode, where even breathing was barley allowed.

Slowly but surely you took one breath, then another and it almost felt like your lungs wanted to cry in relief at the feeling of air entering them again.

The embarrassment of the entire situation kicked in your brain as the gears started turning again and you felt your cheeks heat up in an instant.

"I-I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-" You stuttered and stumbled over your words, adding insult to injury to this already embarrassing moment.

But when the redhead simply gave you an understanding smile and took a seat beside you, the embarrassment subdued at the thought that he didn't find what happened with you alarming.

He talked in that voice of his again. "No need to apologise or explain, Doll. I would get overwhelmed in a place like this, especially if it wasn't usually my scene."

He then tapped the bar and told the bartender to refill your scotch and ordered a new one for himself before he turned to you again.

A gloved hand was extended to you. "Chuuya Nakahara."

You pondered for a moment whether you should tell him your name or not but figured that it would be no harm to do so… like come on, what were the chances you meet again, right?

Shaking his hand, you told him your name before taking your glass of scotch and taking a huge gulp from it.

Chuuya downed the entire glass and it didn't look like he had the slightest issue with the burning sensation it left behind.

He tapped his glass for a refill before he turned to you, his blue eyes piercing through you. "So what brings you here, Doll? It's obviously not your scene."

Your fingers drummed against your glass, a habit you should have gotten rid of a long time ago but answered nonetheless and if you somehow screwed up anything, the alcohol was taking the blame.

"A friend of mine has a meeting here and thought it would be a good idea for me to come here too." You found your gaze wandering all over the man, from his face to his suit to that weird looking hat he had on.

Who was Chuuya Nakahara?

Chuuya said before he downed another glass. "Well, I'm glad he did, Doll. Otherwise, how else would I have been able to meet you?"

"But I'm also curious, what kind of friend leaves their friend alone in a place like this? I mean he must understand that some people wouldn't miss an opportunity to take advantage of you and hurt you." He questioned.

And that actually had you laughing, like straight up laughing out loud because he didn't just say that but he was excused, he wasn't aware of who you were, he didn't know that no one would be able to hurt you with what you had.

"Sorry, that was rude but trust me, Chuuya… no one can hurt me." You told him and you could almost swear you saw his eyes shine with a new light, as if he won the grand prize but as soon as you saw it, it disappeared.

He sighed. "Perhaps but sometimes we are the ones who hurt ourselves and you definitely seem the kind to do that."

Your body movement stopped all together and your blood ran cold in your veins while your skin paled. "I'm not--"

"Oh yes, you are. I know a haunted look when I see one and what happened with you a few minutes ago, it wasn't just about being overwhelmed… it was a triggered reaction but what exactly triggered you, Doll?" Chuuya asked and you felt your body kick into flight mode as you immediately jumped to your feet and went to walk away from the redheaded man.

But his hand caught your wrist and pulled you back to your seat and he looked you in the eye while his grip tightened on your wrist.

And he made the biggest mistake of his life when he asked again and said what he shouldn't have said. "What are you afraid of, Time Weaver?"

Your eyes burned blue and so did your body, you let the monster out as you stared him dead in the eye. "Certainly not you."

Blue ropes shot out of your body and slammed him to the nearest wall when you heard Keisuke call out for you. "Run! They want you!"

From the corner of your eye, you saw Chuuya get up and recover from the impact of the slam you gave him but you didn't comprehend that soldiers entered the club, with people screaming and running, it was hard to keep track.

Bullets rang in the air and you closed your eyes, knowing there was no way out of this, you just had to get Keisuke out and away from here then the rest could be solved or at least you hoped it would be.

Then everything went quiet and your eyes fluttered open and you took in how everything barely moved, the bullets directed at you were stuck mid air and Keisuke was stopped mid run to you.

You walked with slow and steady steps to him and shot out your ropes again, grabbing his body and walking up to the elevator, you put him inside and clicked on the G level before going back to the club.

A slight humming was what you let out while using your ropes, moving everyone and everything to suit your own purpose and a smile graced your lips as you saw the final image of the scenario you created before you went to stand behind chuuya.

With confidence you snapped your fingers and the world went back to its normal speed and you watched in amusement as the guards that were shooting at you were now in front of the bullets meant for you and how they fell to the ground as they got shot by them.

Chuuya was watching the scene with angry eyes and he looked left and right for you but didn't think about checking behind his back.

You had one rope out and almost… almost wrapped it around his throat from behind when you felt the cold bite of a barrel on the back of your head…

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He tends to lose his mind when he's angry." A nonchalant voice spoke behind, digging the gun deeper into your skull as Chuuya turned around.

His eyes widened when he saw you behind him but simply gave him a smile and was going to slow down time again when you sensed a hand holding the nape of your neck and suddenly you couldn't feel your ability… what the…

You turned around to look at the man who did something to you and stared into one uncovered eye as he smiled mischievously at you.

"Welcome to the port mafia, Time Weaver." Was the last thing you heard before someone knocked you out and everything went dark.