#Political O'Clock

[grumpycakes]

Speaker of the House Vote 2025 - The Disaster that Could Have Been

For anyone who wants to nope out early. Mike Johnson, Republican representative of Louisiana, won on the first vote. Not... without weirdness, but he did technically achieve speakership one vote 1.

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Welcome back to hell friends. For those who were not here in 2023 and or need a refresher, here's the rundown.

After an election year (every 2 years) congress is called into session with it's new members elect (and returning incumbent members). The new members need to be sworn in, the rules of congress need to be agreed upon, and a bunch of other minutia that goes on to get congress working.

To start that they need a LEADER PERSON (Speaker of the house). LEADER PERSON gets to decide when and what to vote on, who to appoint to special committees and should generally be someone that a lot of people can work with as they are in charge of EVERYONE not just their party.

So the VERY FIRST THING congress needs to do is elect a LEADER PERSON w all the currently elect representatives.

They will need

a majority of their 435 members there to vote (aka a quorum)

Nominated representatives (kinda more of a formality as some will vote for who the fuck ever even if not nominated)

More than half of the votes LITERALLY by ONE vote - 218 votes

ISSUES WITH THIS VOTE

Razor thin Republican majority - 219 Republicans vs 215 Democrats

Neither side will be voting for the other

Republicans can only lose ONE VOTE

One rep (Massey) already outright said he WILL NOT vote for Johnson

There are at least 7 Republicans (including above) who were vocally against voting for Johnson

Votes no are usually in the hopes of getting on commitees or getting their pet projects more air time

There are some delicate rules about the vote numbers - ie if too many people do not vote or vote present the overall number to win gets lowered

If enough people don't vote or vote present we TECHNICALLY could get the Democrat leader in as speaker but republicans SUPER don't want that and it would be career suicide to be the reason it happened

GENERAL THINGS THAT HAVE LED UP TO THIS

While 2023 was legit the shitiest showiest of shit shows with them not being able to decide on a speaker - it has happened in the past and is not... the strangest thing but doesn't bode well for actual governing happening.

Trump HAS backed Mike Johnson - which SHOULD help some of his weird diehard supporters who are reps to fall in line

Mike Johnson is one of those creepy christians (most likely is in support and actively trying to push for project 2025 stuff, has a PORN ACCOUNTABILITY APP AND HIS ACCOUNTABILIBUDDY IS HIS SON...)

Johnson has said point blank he will NOT be negotiating with far right Republicans for a vote

Marjorie Taylor Green was not reelected

Matt Gaetz WAS reelected but had resigned to try and be attorney General for Trump - that backfired as he'd been under investigation over illicit drug use, perhaps illegal acquiring of fire arms, and HUMAN TRAFFICKING WITH A TOUCH OF STATUTORY RAPE - enough of congress revolted and voted to release the documents on the investigation so he backed out of the Attorney General nomination and said he wouldn't return to congress THANK. FUCK. (tho it looks like one of the weirdass right wing news groups offered him a show)

Trump has twice now gotten Republicans to nuke their own bills that they worked on BIPARTISANLY cause he doesn't like them (this time being more Musks fault but still) causing frustration to the members and Johnson but he's still falling in line

(Hilariously as everyone was arriving CSPAN Shifted over to the Senate who had JUST EASILY FINISHED ELECTING Michael Thoon (Repub.) AS THEIR SPEAKER. Kamala was swearing in the new senators and seeing and hearing her after the loss of the election was kind of a gut punch.)

TIME TO CONVENE

We do prayer w the lady Chapelin, good to see she's still there. Non-denominational and overall good message but as a recovering catholic ew.

There is a bald white man who comes up. He is the clerk - clerks run congress for the time they do not have a speaker. All they can do is tell congress to convene for the vote or disperse.

Calls the room to order, takes a bunch of times and gavel bangs. 433 Have marked themselves as present (but there's always ppl who come late). It's packed to the gills, as a lot of members (especially newly elected ones) will bring their families to watch them get sworn in.

Representatives of our territories (ie. the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Native nations) were recognized (I don't remember this from last time and they are not allowed to vote so idk what this was but cool that they're there)

A quorum is called and there is a call for nominations (aka dumbass speeches from the reps)

REPUBLICAN - McClain of Michigan (how dare you come from MY STATE)

She indicates she will be nominating Johnson - there is halfhearted applause and weird cheering?? That could be jeers?? very odd

She did the general Republican talking points they like to lie about (crime, border, vets, bullshit) saying they needed to get back to normal

I MAY be reading into it but the line of normal gives me "PLEASE BE NORMAL AND VOTE ONE TIME IDIOTS" vibes...

Everyone can look forward knowing that America will be respected again - LAUGHABLE

Refers to Traditional American values as what most Americans care about -half hearted claps lolll fuck u

We should be making the American life easier - YEAH YOU SHOULD

Saying Johnson ain’t perfect but no one is!!!! Small changes!!! We can’t all get what we want!!!! We could be celebrating what we’ve gotten done!!!!

Said as Chairwoman of the unified house republican conference we are ready to govern (Oooookay?)

Presents Johnson??? Everyone gets up and applauds again weird yaaayyy in the background - like imagine halfhearted crowd voiceovers from early anime’s

DEMOCRAT - Aguilar of California (did a number of the nomination speeches during 2023's shit show)

He comes up and jokes he's had "a little bit of practice" which gets cheers

Acknowledges rep McClain of Michigan for giving a good speech (which is kind of him)

Notes that the dems aren't the majority but says that they do have the rise on the "Governing" majority of the house reps (actually a scalding burn - basically saying that the Republicans don't govern)

References the struggles of the working class saying the American ppl want them working together on the affordability crisis

Oddly saying only Jeffries knows this struggle? Or is the only leader to know this struggle??? V strange

OH DIP SAYS JEFFRIES IS THE ONLY LEADER WHO KNOWS HOW TO MAKE A DEAL AND STICK To THAT DEAL AHAHA BURN (referencing the multiple bipartisan bills that Trump and or Elon have had the republicans nuke for no other reason than they didn't like it)

Committed to bipartisanship and common sense shit for America

Says Dems kept govt funded and Americans protected (ofc implying that Repubs DID NOT)

Incoming administration needs to know we gotta compromise and they won’t get shit through without us so you gotta work w us (mildly threatening but true as they only have a 4 person majority)

Make no mistake Dems want to bring down cost of living, health, and do the most good for the most people

Talks about freedom and protecting Democracy. Leads into how we supported Ukraine (yay) and Israel (ooookay let’s not bring themmm uppppppp)

Does a call and response saying that when faced with tax cuts for the wealthy, Jeffries didn’t just say no he said -pause- Dems repsond “hell no”

THE PRIDE OF BROOKLYN (OKAY LOL)

Normal cheers and applause lolll sucks to suck Johnson

Chanting Hakeem (okay friends)

Clerk calls for any other nominations and no one answers. Names ppl to take votes. CUTE OLD LADY IN A POWDER BLUE BLAZER YES MA'AM

I had even less patience for the ppl saying more than a name today

VOTING TIME

We are going to go by the standard that democrats all voted for Jeffries, and unless specified Republicans voted for Johnson. I will be making note of odd votes, MIA when called, and obviously defectors.

CSPAN is doing a cool thing where they’re dipping down he audio of the floor when a name is called but boosting it when they’re voting, well done!!!

Barret - MIA when called loll then asked if they said Barret or Barrets (sir???) Then votes Johnson

Biggs of Arizona - MIA when called

Biggs if NC - "pres trump endorsed candidate, Mike Johnson" (lady shut up)

Boebert - says “*something* Mr speaker Mike Johnson” MA'AM SHUT UP

Burgette - “the gentleman um” pauses and looks over somewhere “of Louisiana, Mike Johnson” if you’re gonna just fall in line don’t call attention to yourself dipshit

Carson - MIA when called

Cloud - MIA when called

Clyde - MIA when called

Crochet - said something long for Jeffries, ur great ma'am but pls don’t make this longer

Fallon - the 4th district of Texas votes proudly for Mike Johnson - No ONE CAAAARES SIR

Gosar - MIA when called loll

Green of TX (DEM)- does his long speech he usually does, someone started booing, order was called and and ppl are laughing. Order kept being called?? He sat??? Did vote for Jeffries but that was odd

Harris of Maryland - MIA when called

Cheers when Jeffries votes for himself ofc

Johnson gets almost too enthusiastic cheers when he votes for himself

Lambert - yells THE HONORABLE MIKE JOHNSON you’re not cool

Luna - MAGA Mike Johnson (gross)

Massey - Tom Emmer *Johnson cannot lose another vote (a rumble of chatter goes through the crowd) ohohoho he did it)

McGuire - something about president Trump and 10000 electoral votes Johnson???

Norman - JIM JORDAN (LOLL SIR IS THIS 2023??? HELLOO)

Distressed/excited chatter as it would appear Johnson just lost

Pelosi - votes Jeffries gets cheers (more likely because she's returning after emergency hip surgery from a fall)

Self - Donalds (LOL OH SHIT) MORE CHATTER

Walz - MIA when called

Round of voting finished - but before the Recall of the MIA Voters can happen,

The lady from the Virgin Islands asked to be heard saying, mr speaker, all the Representatives weren’t called. Pointing out the Reps of the US Territories represent 4 million Americans (fair fair) gets applause. Mr speaker collectively the territories have the largest number of veterans in the country. She’s asked if she has a question. She asks why the reps of the territories weren’t called. She gets jeered at. She said it will only take a moment have some respect. Ooooooo she asks why they weren’t called. He explains they “aren’t qualified” and explains the dumbass rules. People jeer her and she says we have a 'colonies and territories' problem and what should have been temprorary - jeering cuts her off. The guy gavels her to shut up and applause happens. Seems rude to applaud her being silenced when she's making a good point.

Recall of the MIA Votes

Biggs AZ - Johnson

Carson - Jeffries

Cloud - Johnson

Clyde - Still MIA weird

Gosar - Also still MIA????

Harris of Maryland - Johnson

Roy - Johnson

Walz - Johnson (loll clerk had to be reminded to call him)

Clerk calls for anyone who didn’t vote (or who wants to change) to come to the well

Clyde recalled again??? - maybe finally says Johnson?? Gosar - Johnson (where were you two???)

CLYDE CALLED AGAIN FINALLY A WOMANS VOICE SAYS JOHNSON???

VOTE OVER - TABULATING VOTES

While tabulating CSPAN has the title of ‘ REP. JOHNSON (R-LA) DOES NOT HAVE THE VOTES TO BE ELECTED SPEAKER; SECOND VOTE EXPECTED’ delicious

Notes from the talking heads of CSPAN lol

Almost all parties used to have at least 1 defector vote until 2023

They HAVE to have a speaker in by jan 6 as that’s the day the president votes have to be counted and without a speaker congress can’t be sworn in making them incapable of counting the pres. vote

Johnson and co gathered in corner w Norman and Self. They are most likely trying to get them to agree to vote Johnson by promising something - LOOLLL when Cspan pointed it out they leave the floor (not shady at all)

First vote is still open and could be changed - if both guys change he could win first vote

Johnson comes back, chats w Jeffries, goes up to the clerk

Self and Norman are down in the well (where you can come up and change your vote)

Gavel is being banged - To change their vote the counters of the vote have to say who they intially voted for and who they are changing their vote to

NORMAN - SWITCHED TO JOHNSON NOOOOOO

Chatter - gaveled to order pbbbtbtbt

SELF CHANGED TO JOHNSON NOOOOoooooooo boooooooooooo

Johnson wins :/

Dumb slow cheering and whistling ( I hate whistlers -squints & grumbles-)

There was a question as to if it’d been fully counted yet but they let them change it. While I appreciate not having the circus that was 2023, I will say I kinda wanted them to have to revote. Just to sit in their own mess of it all.

Burchette (a repub.) says it was just a matter of principals or philosophy?????? And said he voted for Johnson cause he “never lied to me and I know his philosophy” the hell does that MEAN

Cheers for getting 218, less enthused but still cheers for 215 for Jeffries, Tim Emmer counted as getting one vote (some weird silly yaaayyy cheers for that - Tim Emmer is the Republican whip)

Ugh I hate them all smiley and clapping for Johnson

Gaetz has “chosen not to be sworn in” and continues to not be here lol

FORMALITIES ENSUE

The Majority and Minority speakers and a handful of other reps are all called to leave and then reenter congress for the swearing in of it all. They do so. and then we are subjected to SPEECHES.

(my additions in green)

Hakeem Jeffries (Minority leader goes first) - SPEECH HIGHLIGHTS

Says hi to Johnson but immediately says it’s nice to see Pelosi back (she gets cheers cause she survived the hip surgery).

Ew we’re referencing the Bible pbbbtt.

America is too expensive. Yes sir.

We will work with anyone. (Says a version of that over and over.)

We will work w anyone to secure our borders EW SIR anyone to fix our broken immigration system in a comprehensive and bipartisan matter.

But we will push back on extremism whenver necessary.

Social security and medicare are not entitlement programs they are earned benefits. (Earned shouldn’t mean PAYING FOR THEIR LIFE but okay)

Never gonna let them take away social security ever.

Not acceptable to cut (list of social services).

Keep your hands off social security and medicare.

AYYY said it was an honor to serve alongside biden and Harris and to save the country from a pandemic. Get’s booed and I’m not saying they did but suck it.

Jeffries acknowledges that trump won, gorss cheering from Repubs. He thanked them for the applause lol.

Then said there’s no election deniers on our side ooooooooooo burn.

Said that some of the incoming administration thought “The freedom of economic equality that made them wealthy should no longer apply.” Damn go off.

The line of one america and freedom/liberties and justice for all, that’s the America that dems will fight to preserve.

Jeffries then has to announce Johnson. Does so by talking about Johnson, saying facts but decent things about him. Honestly fairly nice to hear him talk up that Johnson APPEARS to be a decent man to those he respects.

Johnson is announced and he gets cheered.

James MICHAEL (Mike wow) Johnson - SPEECJ HIGHLIGHTS (or lowlights as it were)

Grateful for the nomination and election and is honored in the trust he was given (loll kay, almost got nuked). Asks for a moment of silence for the lousiana situation and sure but also for the ooooother state????

LOLLL talks about honoring spouses and about how his wife didn’t make it last time cause it was sudden but she’s here now. Oookay. Kids are asked to stand too. Thanks family for the thankless job of being the family of congresspeople huh.

Mmmmmm going back 250 years, history lesson timeeee bleh.

“Freedom is never Free” -glares-

“We are the envy of the world” nnnnno nope don’t think so.

Principles of the country need to be preserved, he calls it the 7 core principles of conservatism but says they’re just for the nation.

Better to give a hand up than a hand out. - HEINOUS SIR

Innovation thrives when democracy dies. And HUMANS DIE WHEN REGULATIONS ARE AVOIDED.

"we have a mandate." YOU. DO NOT. It was. So goddamn close. Fuck you.

Borders, inflation, “”weak leadership”” blahblahblah. Border issues. HAHAHAH says finally finish the border wall. WILL YOU SIR?????

THEN jabs at Jeffries and says you said you’d work with us on that Hakeem, I’m counting on it. Stupid laughs from crowd.

Promises to extend trump tax cuts

Restore america’s energy dominance??? Repeats dominance. Why do men always gotta fjkdlsajg

Eliminate the green new deal (coooool. It never got put in place???)

Loll references Social Justice warriors. Is this 2018 again??? Calls it madness and that they have to put an end to it. OOOOooookay. Reinstate fear in our enemies, somehting about lethality wowwowowowow.

Thinks the congress if filled w men and women who are okay w common sense and that they’ll return to it

Inter faith prayer service. Jeffries did a passage from dueteronomy.

He did a prayer that President Thomas Jefferson did

President Thomas Jefferson repeated this prayer every day of his presidency?????? Says he's going to recite it not to pray but to share w them. "Almighty God, Who has given us this good land for our heritage; We humbly beseech Thee that we may always prove ourselves a people mindful of Thy favor and glad to do Thy will. Bless our land with honorable ministry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion, from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way. Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people, the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues. Endow with Thy spirit of wisdom those whom in Thy name we entrust the authority of government, that there may be justice and peace at home, and that through obedience to Thy law, we may show forth Thy praise among the nations of the earth. In time of prosperity fill our hearts with thankfulness, and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in Thee to fail; all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." The prayer is ballsy from a nation built on THEFT

CALLED TRUMP SURVIVING THE ASSISNATION ATTEMPT PROVINENCE THAT SPARED HIS LIFE. I’M. S O R R Y. BUT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE GOD HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT ONE

I don't remember if he ended is speech soon after or if I just stopped listening cause it was making me irate and uncomfortable. I'd apologize but I promise the speeches aren't really worth our time.

MORE CSPAN TALKING HEADS NOTES

Threshold for vacate is back to 9 members

ALTHOUGH THEY WANT TO PUT A RULE THROUGHT THAT A MOTION TO VACATE CAN ONLY BE DONE BY THE RULING PARTY WITH 9 VOTES. The oppsing party (right now Dems) have to do a regular process of requestiong a motion - this seems very ill advised and detrimental but I can't say that Gaetz's motion to vacate was not also detrimental.... but it was friendly fire???? idk

Repub. Virginia Fox from NC REPORTED to have fallen down marble steps at the capitol??? Bleeding profusely but concious and fine???? HELLO????

Ohhhh there was a previous guy has been called to vacate before McCarthy but didn’t get fully kicked out by vote

TAKEAWAYS

Johnson appears to be slightly more bipartisan and able to work if not with then not horrifically against the Dems. However he is still beholden and falling in line with Trump. He is also a zealously religious man who would like to impose his religious rules on everyone. May be in line with Project 2025. And at the end of the day is still a Republican.

It was not nearly as bad as McCarthy, but still shows fissures in the foundation of their congressional relationships. Apparently many of the MIA votes were purposefully done by Republicans to show that they have sway and that with this small of a Majority they will HAVE to be worked with.

They're still a shit show, they just kept it under mild control today.

[qveenpoppy]

the "i won't/birthday party" mashup is awesome but i almost kinda wish the guys had sung "birthday party" in its entirety bc the line "i bet i'll see a female president" would have gone really hard after this week

[the-uncanny-dag]

Not a good time to be a Sonic fan this year

[mayra-quijotescx]

been reading the federal workers' reddit for the past half hour, and what has stuck out to me so far, with the caveat that no one on that reddit is trying to get fired right now and as such no one's claims on there are 100% verifiable by outsiders, is:

'deferred resignation', on top of being broadly regarded as insulting and a blatant near copy-paste of the shit deal offered to (and then yanked away from) Twitter employees during Elon's strip-mining of that org, removes the post if the occupant takes it. So if 6 people do the same job in the Department of Whatever, one of them takes the alleged offer, now there are 5 such roles.

And multiple people employed by the Department of Defense have said they were informed that they're DR-eligible. It's not a consensus, as some are, some aren't, some don't know, and some are still too busy pulling bodies out of the Potomac to check. But at least some are.

And someone employed by CBP said they were informed that they, armed or unarmed, are considered vital to national security and as such are not DR-eligible.

[georgefairbrother]

A little golden moment from Not the Nine O'Clock News (BBC 1979-1982).

The Soviet nuclear missiles have been launched, with Armageddon just minutes away, but according to the panellists on Question Time, this is the least of Britain's problems.

"…We’re sitting here talking about a nuclear holocaust, casually discussing the destruction of the entire planet, and ignoring the major issue, which is the appalling record of this Conservative Government…"

[sillimancer]

turned shinigami eyes back on because I love receiving random psychic damage

[winterreigned]

[ lazy ] from Theon, modern?? // @prodigum

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄, how liberating ; how free she feels in these moments. it had been so long, oh so long, since sansa stark felt the unshakable joy of childhood. how she longed for it, missed the childlike innocence that came from just having fun. this was what her twenties should've been, not the mourning and grieving that has somehow followed her to school. tonight, however, perhaps it's a few drinks, or perhaps it's the company, she cannot help but feel as if (temporarily) she has returned to the sansa stark she was only a year prior. before her dad died. before her world stopped turning.

❝ carry me, c'mon! carry me! ❞ the redhead calls out to theon, voice a whirling mix of giggles and chirps. sansa had been begging for at least fifteen minutes now, knowing her brothers were too far gone to the bottle to maintain her weight. her heels were in her hands, feet exhausted from a night of dancing. she had been in good spirits, dancing with her friends and siblings the entire evening. it was clear alcohol had its hand to play here, but nonetheless, sansa would consider this a successful night.

❝ ──── oof! ❞ and theon hoists her up onto his back, almost like it was too easy. piggy back rides in your twenties surely were a recipe for disaster, though sansa is not paying it any mind. her arms snake around his neck loosely, she adjusts her weight to make it easier for him. theon and her had grown a lot closer of late, the dynamic between them much easier than ever before. this causes sansa to feel no qualms when she rests her head into the nook of his neck, mouth hovering slightly over his hear.

❝ thank you, ❞ she whispers. ❝ tonight was ──── perfect. you were perfect. ❞ a soft sigh escapes her, blue eyes fluttering shut as she nuzzles into him slightly. tomorrow, when she recalls this - she will simply blame the alcohol.

[grotesquevi]

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ the colorama in your eyes, takes me on a moonlight drive.

cw  #  18+ mdni, fakegirlfriend!vi, this contains smut at some point, tribbing, fingering, titty love, dirty talk, slight dumbification?, soft!dom vi, switch!reader, use of marijuana, drunk-kissing, vi gives you tons of nicknames, swearing, reader has a crush on a straight girl for the plot, vi used to date sarah fortune, collage, hockey au.

wc: 20,809 // masterlists // playlist

an # this was my first long fic and to be honest, i love it with all my heart so i hope you do too, fake dating is one of my favorite tropes lol it's long really so yeah grab your snacks and enjoy the ride?? jocks dont get tested for drugs in this universe bc i say so. if you read the 20k words, know that we are bonded for life. again, if you recognize this from before: it's because my old account vicorices got deleted thanks to tumblr fuckery. welcome back boo.

"can you pretend you want me?"

the air is thick at eleven o'clock, and violet tries to remember why she's there again, drinking warm beer from a plastic cup while she listens to her friend tell the same story she repeats over and over when she had a drink or two, even when it's plain wednesday — right. powder.

her sister wanted moral support to socialize, giving vi a hard time now that she was left there with a couple of friends from the team, with no sign of her sister nowhere close to be seen.

"sorry, can you pretend you want me?" vi doesn't really notice she's being talked to until you place yourself in front of her vision. the sound of your voice clearer than the music. "quick. it's a matter of life or death."

"excuse me-" her brows furrow in question "what did you say?"

"fuck- one minute," there's no much time to think about it when you're invading her space suddenly, even in front of her friends as you make her corner you against the brick wall of the frat house, one vi didn't pay much attention to until now — "pretend you want me for a minute, please."

it happens so fast she has no room to say anything, cause you're talking to her one time only to yank her away from her teammates the other in the weirdest request she's ever had from a girl, yet from up close, vi's able to look at you under the dim lights that changed colors: yeah she can do that, she can pretend she's into you.

she suffers from this hero syndrome that compels her to help people out, so she's playing the part by heart, with a purpose now cause why the fuck no? you're pretty, and the color on your eyes is nice to look at, takes her briefly to the moon as she's leaning against you, prying on you with a hungry look.

"who are you trying to seduce?" she asks politely, but her actions seem far from gentleness when she's leaning against your neck, nose catching on the smell on your skin as her hands find your waist.

"the red haired," you breathe out thankful that she's following you around, and your fingers find a strand of her hair to twirl it in your digit, slightly pulling on it as you speak. you're licking on your lips, doe eyes as a smile tugs on the corner of your lips, flirting, you are flirting — "the one with curls talking with the girl on a yellow dress. don't look."

yeah you're pretty. of course you fucking are, cause vi has no trouble in not looking, fixated by the softness of your skin, how pliant you are in her arms in a situation that turns everything that was boring in a experience.

"is she seeing us?" she asks you again "your girl. she watching you?"

she's being kind she thinks, cause that's new. not many girls came out of nowhere asking stuff like that, so forward, and vi is a girl's girl after all. of course she's going to help you out to get a girl jealous, in fact, she hope a pretty girl like you could get what you wanted by the end of the night, the curly redhead or whatever.

"yeah i think so, she's going to walk behind you any moment" you let her know, low enough so she can hear you now because she's so damn close out of sudden it gives vi enough time to press a kiss against the crook of your neck, that spot where your shoulder meets your neck and she can feel you shivering beneath her hands, because she never would do that on a girl she just met, one that she didn't even knew her name, but she's helping you out due to boredom so who she is to ever judge?

the scent of your perfume hit her nostrils and it really seems like it — that she wanted you. she manages to be gentle even when she's trying to look fully into you and by your smile, vi's sure she made it good.

"i think she looked," you stated proudly. removing yourself from her arms as quickly as you jumped in them, looking at the direction your curly girl left "thank you, really saved me there."

"who's that, your ex girlfriend or something?" she asks curiously, forgetting about her warm beer now rotting in the cup she forgot somewhere in between the acting.

"no, that's my roommate" you quickly explain, "straight."

"well that's tough, my regards on your death wish" vi nose wrinkles and her expression makes you laugh cause deep down, you also know you're doomed. "so she looked huh? congratulations, now you just have to brainwash her entirely."

"very funny," you roll your eyes in response "i'm playing my cards right, you'd be surprised."

"right" she teases, "so that's why you're asking a total stranger to act like a one night stand, good tactic i'd fall for it."

"we've shared ten minutes," and vi's holding on a chuckle when you seem to have a response for every single one of her comments, endearing "i think we're not really strangers no more, it makes us friends now."

"i'm violet, vi" she would assume everyone knew her name already since she's been winning game after game this season and hockey's a big thing for piltover's university, but you don't really seem to know her when you're saying your name as a formal introducing, weirdly enough, right after she just kissed your skin like a long time lover.

"are you here on your own, vi? cause my friends ditched me for hook-ups, and you seemed bored too."

now that she looks back at it — she should have said something like she was too busy, that she was heading home already or something like that. end up things right away before she got stung on the neck, but to be fair, you're fun to be with, you're pretty and she could use a friend that don't talk about hockey for a while, so she accepts, saying something about her beer tasting like mud, making you go and join her to find alcohol in a frat house already full of people.

it was a slip, a mistake maybe, but by the hour she's sure you're a long-lost friend, like a limb vi has lost somewhere in her lifetime. you're a little weirdo who knows about a lot of art and won't ever spend time, willingly watching any kind of sports. the kind of girl who remembers the speech from a movie, but's unable to name the schedule you took in the semester from memory.

"so you're an art kid?" she questions you, "i've never been in that part of the campus."

"yeah, we're pretty hidden" you admit, taking a sip from the beer you found in the freezer "jocks don't go to places like that."

"interesting fact, so you know i play hockey?"

"of course i know who you are, vi" you end up saying after a moment of silence, seated comfortable in the small cement bench as you smoke from the joint she invited you to smoke outside after an hour or so "but i have to play cool too, otherwise i'll feed your ego and you're not even the captain of the hockey team. i'm afraid to said i don't live under a rock."

you seem almost proud of saying it, and vi forgets about how powder had to drag her there, push and almost threat to get her out of bed when she lets out a loud laugh of pure entertainment — to be honest vi's going through a break-up from almost three months ago, so yeah, it's fair she regretted showing up at first, she don't want to see sarah, not even by mistake, but her ex is not around and she's utterly having fun for a chance.

"ah, you cheated on me," vi tries to act all hurt when in reality she's actually enjoying this random act of honesty, simple fun "that's bad girl behavior i'm sorry- trying to get a straight girl? lying to my face? you're truly a menace."

"shut up, she's coming."

"who, again?"

"ava my straight roommate- fuck" it's cute when you panic, passing her the joint concerned of your state "do i look high? too bad? look interested in me or else i'll cry. i mean it, vi."

and she's going to protest, say some stupid joke now that you know each other a bit more, that you've warmed up, but ava's there and you're greeting her all handsy and shit, having to hold on the laugh when you blatantly lie saying you didn't see her around until now. crazy little liar.

"she's vi," you presented her, and to hell because she has to act all clingy again, wrapping her arm around your waist only to pull you between her spread legs, chest pressing against your side as you think quickly, out of pure nervousness before adding,"my girlfriend."

it makes vi choke on the smoke. her grip tightening as she hides the puzzled look on her face and you give her that look of oh-god-have-i-fucked-up-my-entire-life? in slow motion — "vi, this is ava, my roommate."

"hi."

you're dragging her into a mess and all she can do is mutter a silent what-the-fuck against your shoulder as she greets ava with a smile, keeping you against her chest cause well: she's your girlfriend it supposes, and vi would never be a shitty lover, fake or not.

"nice seeing you guys around, you too vi, glad to meet you" and maybe she's too high already vibing with it, but vi can smell the flirting in the air when your roommate talks directly to you "gonna make pasta when i come home, do you want some?"

"sure, thank you ave. you can leave it in the kitchen counter."

"no worries. i got you."

vi waits until the girl's inside before giving you that look. the look of not understanding shit, of being clueless as you turn around almost begging for mercy, leaning in her embrace knowing you were the one who seek for more trouble in the first place.

and a hockey player should be aware of everything, so vi should've seen it before, way before when she's not really uncomfortable with you seated between her legs, unaware of the rest of the party already gossiping — what's vi doing with a girl like you anyway?

"please?" you try after a long moment of silence, and she already knows what you're asking.

"no," vi shakes her head almost at the same time. "d'you know how exhausting is to fake something like that? it's like having a real girlfriend, have you seen the movies?"

"vi," you cry out, looking back at her with puppy eyes. "i'll make it easy i promise, no weird stuff i'm begging you."

"don't you have another friend that could help you out with this?" she asks, furrowing her brows. "i helped you out, miss. but you're taking advantage of my good heart."

"most of my friends are straight, and the only lesbian in my life has a girlfriend already, ava knows them so it wont work" you explain making vi follow up on a story she wasn't really involved at first. "please, if you ever need a lung you can have mine, i'll give you my first born even if you want to-"

"and what do i get? seriously here cause having a girlfriend don't really mix well with girls in campus, you're ruining my sex life also."

"don't you have one person that you'd like to make jealous too?" you plant a seed on her brain that spreads like the black plague on it's peak time "c'mon, maybe it can work out for you too, think about it."

she stays silent for a while cause your words hits the jackpot. vi's mind drifts back to sarah, and she quickly thinks about the benefits of having a fake girlfriend that would make her real ex see that she did, in fact move on already.

"two weeks top, we can break up after" you beg again at her thoughtful look, and you do it so nicely vi's tempted to act reluctant one more time only to have you trying to coax her with another crazy argument "i mean it, and you can say you're the one who dumped me even, don't really care- please vi. two weeks. two weeks and then we say something like we don't match well."

it's weird cause once again she wonders: what the fuck is she doing there in the first place when it's wednesday? right.

"yeah?" you smile already celebrating at the lack of her denial "is that a yes? you'll be my fake girlfriend then?"

fucking powder.

by the next day, violet vanderson regrets being so kind to people she just met, almost a callout cause how did she become friends with you after just one night? you're exchanging numbers and suddenly you're on her phone and it's simple as smoking a joint and laugh in a boring ass party.

two weeks.

she just have to resist two weeks.

it's not like it's torture. not at all. maybe she's just being dramatic for no reason. dating sarah in the past has brought nothing but problems to her, so your help is also needed, vi has business to attend too and she can use a fake girlfriend even when it seems a ridiculous idea at first.

her phone buzzes on top of the desk before she falls asleep in the middle of microbiology and she lazily comes up to read the screen:

it's not like you're not funny to be around. cute even with the attitude and a silly crush on a straight girl that most likely will fall for you in the end — she could use a girlfriend, a fake one so she can spare the drama in her life.

with a sigh, she reads the first texts.

she hides the phone beneath the table to not be rude, biting the latex glove on her hand to get it off and text you comfortably. the taste grosses her out.

she can imagine the annoyed look on your face, the same one you gave her when she joked about not wanting to give you her own number, having to bite her lip as she prevents an smile.

dramatic. she's almost enjoying messing with you even when she should be paying attention, receiving a random poke for her lab partner before muttering a low — sorry!

dina's looking at her with her brows already furrowed, and vi knows how much her lab partner hates when she's not paying attention as their final grade depends on their work as a team, so she don't mind it much when she answers quickly before shoving her phone back in the pocket of her lab coat.

thing is, vi may or may not forgot about it later. you texted at nine in the morning — of course by five she's going to forgot, so when you appear with a radiant smile holding out your bag with what she guessed was full of art supplies or shit like that, vi didn't expect you to be so confident to walk into a practice like you did, nor being teased by her own teammates because yeah: why's a pretty girl seated in the benches waving at her?

too distracting, she warned you about it, but vi has the feeling you are not very good at listening.

you're there twenty minutes earlier and you're not even paying attention to what they're doing. too busy looking into your stuff to be even looking at her having to endure all twenty minutes of pure hell.

"is that your new girlfriend, vi? she cute."

“shut up and leave her alone.”

so of course after that, she’s taking you by the hand despite all the jokes, yanking you outside as she walks away from practice and got back to her motorbike.

“sorry for coming earlier,” you say when she’s helping you put on the helmet. “my class got cancelled and i was bored.”

bored. she thinks about it, because you’re literally walking in a practice full of lesbians and they all notice a pretty girl right away, yet, instead of saying something on that, she looks at you before lowering the face shield on your head and instead mutter once again — “you’re too distracting to come earlier to practice, 'told you about it.”

limits. vi's sure you two need to settle basic limits by the time she's parking on rims — she has to focus harder though when you're pressed against her back, arms securely wrapped around her waist without leaving much space between the two of you. she could feel the tension on each curve, how you loudly spoke to make her follow the speed limits.

so anytime of the day vi would hate coming to rims, but on a thursday noon and with the place already full of people from the university talking loudly, she has nothing to whine about, not when you're grabbing her by the hand, making her walk to the entrance fingers laced.

"do you come here a lot?" she asks curiously, letting you walk in front of her, usually she has a rather sharp opinion on places like that, full of pretentious people that tried too hard to satisfy the others.

"hell no, but they do have good food so i order for takeout" you admit before spotting a booth "sit next to me, sitting in front of each other is boring, 'sides we have to make it believable."

and to be fair with her own self, vi's deep down amazed by how easy you make it look. how unfazed you are for a moment when you grab her hand to walk like you've been around her from ages ago, like you've shared confidence for more time than just mere hours the night before, so it's not really awkward nor strange to her. it's getting natural.

"now that we're here i was wondering if you'd like to discuss some rules" you state before even checking on the menu "i was thinking throughout class, and i kinda believe we should make a plan or something, establish some basics like when are going to meet and shit, i know where ava's going after her classes, what about you and your golden girl? does she have a schedule you know?"

you're wasting no time in jumping into plan after plan already making a calendar up together so you can check on her free times, but vi's hungry as ever when she's looking at the menu instead of listening to you, debating if she should have the cheesecake for dessert or maybe ice cream since it's sunny outside.

"which hamburger did you try already? it was good?" the change of subject makes you stop making plans on your own to check the menu right over your shoulder, pointing out the one with pink bread who looks weird enough to avoid it — "you sure it was good? seems weird to me."

"yes, pay attention, this is important" you reply, looking back to the paper you're using to write down on their supposed rules: a paper tablecloth from the table you reversed to use on the white part. "rules. what do you think?"

"i can't think with empty stomach," vi replies trying to make eye contact with a waitress so she can come by and take their order "and i want to object too, because you said it was going to be easy, and doing this stuff does not seem easy to me."

"please we're organizing, this is not the treaty of versailles" it makes her laugh for a moment, and there it is once again, the same feeling on the party of having a good time even when you're being a pain in the ass. "it's not even that much, we just have to make our plans for the week and establish things we dislike; for example, i'll arrive to your practice in time, and, in your case i'm not ever ridin' your bike again so i can avoid having a heart attack."

vi's too hungry to defend herself from the sudden reluctance to her bike, practice leaves her in need of a nap, so she's looking at you with a clearly unpleased face until one of the waitresses finally comes and takes their order quickly.

"where are we going to spend time together? here?" she asks trying to be helpful as she thinks about more defining points now that she secured food "how many times during the week? i can text you my schedule if you need it, i'm usually free by five thirty during practice days."

you're writing it down on the paper and she can see your messy handwriting as you put down the important.

"do you have a problem with seeing each other everyday? try at least" you propose still looking at the written words for a moment before looking back at her — "an hour tops. not in here but to do random things, things that couples do. ave goes to the mall a lot, also to the library so she can study, if she sees us? i'm putting you in my will vi, swore it on my childhood dog."

"i'll tell you if i can't" vi nods, taking on mental notes as she's too lazy to write like you do "are you going to send me a photo of your notes?"

"yes. what about parties?" the points seems to come on their own as you write again "are we the kind of couple that party together and sneak out for kisses in the middle of the night, or the one that parties on their own because we're all about having private lives."

"party together and sneak out for kisses" vi replies without much thinking "we're dating recently, it's our honeymoon phase. so you're partying with me."

"we're also not falling in love" you state, casual as ever as you write it down — "i'm serious."

"we're not falling in love" she agrees with your words, looking at the food arriving to the other people "that only happens in bad movies."

"good. almost forgot," you also add before the food arrives, "put me as your lockscreen."

"huh?"

"your lockscreen vi, on your phone" you point out to your very own screen "give it to me, i'll put a nice picture, i need one of yours too."

jesus. she didn't have that with sarah — in fact, she always had the same picture that came with the phone by default, a blue gradient she don't bother in changing, yet she's giving you her phone willingly, and you're putting it side to side with yours, looking at your own pictures only to check which one will look better as her background.

it's serious as ever.

you seem to cover every single thing she misses, and by the end of it, vi's stomach roars before the food finally arrives and she's drowning in pleasure, devouring until there's nothing in her plate and you've barely even beginning to have a bite.

"what are you writing?" she enquires, trying to look as she's right next to you.

"you have to eat before seeing me cause you don't know how to eat when you're too hungry."

“you’re always bugging me” she rolls her eyes at the comment — “sure you aren't a bug?”

"very funny violet, now that you look slightly presentable, there's a girl looking at you" you casually state "she's making me nervous too, by the way. on your right, don't be obvious."

she knows who you're talking about before seeing her, cause sarah's gaze burn on her neck as vi, subtle as ever, look from over her shoulder only to confirm what she already knows: that's her ex girlfriend looking — and she knows that look from before too, that question in her expression cause she know sarah's wondering why she's there with a girl on the fucking rims? looking all cozy as ever.

"well ava's not here- what happened?" you're quick to pick up on the weirdness of all, how vi seems to stiffen in the booth, forgetting about her nice fries to instead, cross her arms on top of the table, trying to act unbothered "who is she?"

"that's sarah fortune, my ex girlfriend."

"you're shitting me? that's your ex girlfriend?" vi has to resist the need to give you a bad look before your eyes widen in response "your golden girl? you want to go back with your ex?"

"no please," she scrunches her nose, hating to give too many explanations "i want to make sure she gets i'm much over her, seen publicly with you so she will leave me alone."

"oh," you seem to understand for a moment, and vi wonders how you switched so quickly to insist on plans and rules, to leave them aside in a mere seconds and instead, look interested in her instead — "you have ketchup on your mouth."

the act itself is so simple when your fingers trace the corners of vi's mouth, black nails painted that swiped the red sauce from her skin before you leave a soft kiss in her cheek. one that makes vi gasp since it's so sudden, subtle when you're getting handsy like you did with ava the night before, body language speaking volumes when your legs drape over her's and you don't care about the rest, cause you're reducing your world to vi only and fuck's sake, it makes her oblivious to sarah for a moment, letting you look at her with those very same doe eyes, that horny look on your face you gave her when she was leaving a single kiss on your neck the night before.

"so your ex means trouble, i get it" you say in a low chuckle, cleaning the rest of your lipstick in vi's skin "tell me when it's too much, okay? limits."

what both of you don't really notice is that sarah actually left by the first touch, still resting in your fake girlfriend's side cause vi's warm — like the sun in a sunday morning, comfortable as the pillows on your bed.

it's not a torture, it's not fair to even say it as a joke. vi's just being dramatic, she knows it when she's asking for your weekend plans, already counting you in her own.

"are you going out with me on saturday night?" of course you fucking are.

by friday morning it's impossible not to think about you when you're on her phone every time she unlocks it. long hair, big smile as you look up to the camera, the angle is cute, and it makes vi stare at it during various times of the day, blushing when your name pops up on the screen and she’s forced to see you again.

you’ve been texting a lot since yesterday about important stuff — birthday dates and basic family names so neither will be reduced to misery if asked, but by twenty-seven minutes in, texting shifts in random jokes and casual conversations with the excuse to think about things you can do with her. together.

and vi does not protest cause despite being a fake relationship, she does want to be your friend, so in the end she sees nothing wrong with talking to you like a friend would. she's pretty much stuck with you for more than a week and a half, so she better get used to it if you're going to be glued to her by the hip.

you don't see her on friday despite your plans of seeing her everyday, but vi's there by saturday night, outside your dorm building ready to text you about how annoyed she is by all the time you're taking to leave, but before she could reach her phone you go out using this black skirt that got vi double checking for a moment, forgetting momentarily about her random anger as you greet her and grab her jacket to make her walk as she stands there for a good amount of time.

“c’mon walk, we have work to do ava’s already in your party” you say, dragging her as you leave no room to protest “my tummy hurts but i’m trying to give my best here, hope that sarah’s there too cause i’m going all in.”

lately, vi's been avoiding going out too much, tried to when she craves silence by the night, too boring now when she mainly talks and flirts when feeling adventurous, it’s weird now when she usually wants the solitude of a night where she can listen to her own thoughts, but you’re sipping on your drink, walking by her side as you tell her about a bad experience you went through high school with your best friend drunk-kissing you, and she don’t really care about the loud music nor the people.

it’s fun. she’d said it before, fun as ever when she’s saying hi to friends she haven’t seen since sarah broke up with her, laughing with some members of the hockey team as she has you close by; and deep down vi hopes sarah’s there too — you’re with her and she doubt she’s going to try and talk to her with the way you’re seated on her lap laughing with the rest, notice after so many tries, that she's ready to keep moving on.

“do you play poker or something like that?” ava’s looking at you from across the room every once in a while, and even as you are unaware of it, it's something vi's quick to pick up when she's leaning towards you, talking to you closer than before — “blackjack?”

“no, not really,” you reply as sevika’s mixing up the card deck — “i’m not lucky when it comes to games.”

it’s funny now that you’re pointing it out, ironic as your ass is pressed against her legs and ava’s looking at the interaction through the corner of her eye, cause it seems like it is a game. your skirt rises through your thighs and vi grabs you by the waist, comfortable enough to keep you there while concentrating in the game.

“here, come play with me i’ll teach you” she makes you get even closer, pointing out the cards silently as she explains you the basics of the game. and it seems like a secret, even you are eating it up as you cannot really concentrate in all the things she's saying. “it’s not really that hard, isn’t?”

“so if my cards add up and i’m over twenty one, you lose fictional money?” you asks to her contentment “it’s all you have to do? stay under or in the number twenty one?”

“well mostly bug, you got the basics. the important thing is getting a number higher than sevika,” she whispers in your ear. “you get that, and i’ll have her doing my laundry for the week.”

is it the drink that makes you bolder? that slowly blurry the lines of a fake relationship? you're aware ava's looking now, of the warmth of vi's hands against your skin before you're concentrating to play along her game, staring at the two cards in the table, fifteen.

"do you think it's safe to ask for another card?" vi seems pleased to get you understand the game, pointing to sevika's cards at the other side of the table — eighteen.

"we have to do so, she has a bigger number."

she uses two fingers to tap on the table twice as a way of saying she wants another card, and your breathing hitches when you see the number five being added to her cards: twenty.

exhaling from the tobacco hanging on her lips, sevika's next card is a seven, too far from the original twenty one as she seems annoyed by it, quickly suggesting another round.

"another?" vi turns to asks you like the fate it's really in your decisions, and you pretend to think about it for a second, nodding after— "yeah go on."

when it's too much? the music's loud, the drinks are nice and you've been craving that too long, the warmth of somebody else. it's all a damn whirlwind as vi's looking at you, expectant from an answer as you look at her cards, nineteen. against sevika's twelve, you shake your head in denial.

"too dangerous, stay there" you reply, and honestly its basic math when sevika becomes greedy and takes too many cards from the deck and she pulls a twenty two.

vi wins a lot more times after that. so much she's getting excited now that she's on a streak and people around start paying attention to the little game they put up in a dirty table, ava's looking, the rest is looking: it's just a rush of the adrenaline, one that mixes you up entirely, cause after being called her lucky charm, you're looking her and vi knows — knows that look already.

"permission to kiss you," it does not need much wording than that, but it makes vi's head spin when it catches her off guard, her usual rough demeanor faltering for a moment cause she's smiling right against your lips for a second and it's all the invitation needed.

ava. ava fucking ava's gaze burns in the back of your neck, but vi does not care about it when her mouth parts in a devastating kiss, rough and demanding as her fingers tightens against your jaw and she's angling you to a better and more comfortable position, tongue colliding against yours in a kiss you're quick to follow, a competition maybe as you push against her mouth and the game seems to go on without the two of you giving in.

fake girlfriends kiss, right? they have to. she has to follow the plot, stick to the plan. it helps you're on her lap cause her hand's are on your waist and she's pulling you closer, luring you to rest on top of her.

and by the time you're pulling out, your lips are swollen and vi's drinking from your beer now, joining the game once again like she didn't just kissed you dumb in the middle of a party full of people who knows her, like that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever experience.

it makes your hands sweaty, ava's blushing and vi has to pretend, concentrated in the taste of cold beer in her mouth, that she cares about winning the game as sevika's already drunk, betting on her metal arm.

fake girlfriends kiss, right?

right.

it haunts her after.

it plagues her mind when she already decided on the excuse she’s going to say after her acts on saturday: she was following an act, despite her shields you don't text until tuesday and you've been texting her so much before that it's weird now not to receive a text, anything at all.

she knows it may be lot anyway cause people started to talk about it — the sudden relationship of the rising star of hockey, the low profile girl that seems to get her crazy enough to kiss her publicly, and it's what she wanted anyway, what she agreed on.

sarah's away, your straight friend must be turned on as ever, not even a week and the plan is working, surprisingly enough. everything's working despite the strange sensation on the pit of her stomach.

she can't even talk it with her friends anyway: what would she say? that she accepted to be your fake girlfriend cause you needed an extra help getting your straight girl? that she's panicking cause she kissed you in a middle of a blackjack game? sounds like a joke.

she cannot avoid you either way, so by four she’s hidden in her grey hoodie, pushing the library door only to find you already working on your own.

"are you drawing uh-bones?" vi curiosity peaks when she watches over your shoulder what are you so invested in drawing "that's pretty accurate."

"why didn't you bring your laptop?" you question, furrowing your brows together in an inquisitorial way. "we're exchanging favors, i'm not drawing bones for good will."

"my laptop?"

"you forgot" you roll your eyes as she's sitting in front of you "we talked about it on saturday vi, about helping you out with this class where you need to draw, you're doing my essays of art history in return?”

and vi doesn't really remember when she told you about it, but she knows what you mean because she's falling behind on anatomy where she needs to draw parts of the body each week to learn them by memory, and she sucks at it to the point she's ashamed on presenting hard, humble work and pass it with the lowest score out of pity: when did she told you about that?

it's random because she don't really admit when she's struggling with a class like — ever. almost a secret she wishes to keep to herself 'cause she don't want people finding out about her weakest links.

"you remember about walking me home right?" it was just slightly blurry, pursing her lips together as she becomes aware of the lack of memories close to the end of the party "i'm offended, you forgot about the most important part cause you're doing my history tasks."

her drunk self it's intelligent cause your drawings are pretty good to the point she stares at them to a moment before adding — "in that case, you need to make your draw ugly, cause if it’s too good it won't be believable."

“i’m doing what i can” you roll your eyes as you pause your working “it’s our academic deal still going? kind of need the essays.”

“yeah, it’s on” and quite frankly, it’s a help she much needed when she’s looking at your notes to go and see what the essay must be about.

“it’s for friday, you told me this is for thursday- or your drunk self sabotages you?” vi shows you her middle finger before she can spot the smile on your lips, you're teasing her — “thursday okay. how it's going on with sarah by the way? is she giving you any trouble at all?"

"no, it seems she get the message" vi admits thoughtful. "people is talking about us, so i don't think she'll come close anyway. she's got a big ego."

"yeah well, everyone's calling me your girl" you point out, scrunching your nose at the nickname, and vi blushes at the news "so i bet she heard about it already too."

"and how's everything going with ava?"

"she's weird" you state “you think our kiss scared her? haven’t talked to her since the party, we talked a lot when i came home that night.”

vi chokes for a second before shaking her head, the kiss, you say it so normally — “uh, no. no i don’t think so- maybe she’s falling in love with you.”

“be for real violet, do you hate me?” you dramatically say as she steals a pencil from your case and you gave her a bad look — “there’s tension i think, that or i’m being delusional, there’s no in between.”

“is she here or what?”

“she’ll be in like thirty minutes, wanted to be subtle” business, a fake relationship is pure business. vi needs to remind herself the very same when she’s gathering the books she’ll need to start out on renaissance art she don't know a thing about, lazily reading titles as she curses on her own past self, knowing she hates doing essays or anything that involves writing a decent paragraph.

vi’s mind however works on its own when she's looking at your lips again, sitting in front of you before you can say something about being close cause she's already counting on the days before her death.

you don't want to talk about it, she don't want to do it either, so instead, vi let you dive her in an ocean of comfortable silence when she's working with most of your materials, highlighting important information fighting the need to close her eyes.

"resist don't fall asleep," she has no choice to comply when your feet rubs on hers beneath the table, an action that does not go unnoticed when ava's sitting in the table right next to the two of you: that’s thirty minutes already? how? "you okay there? i know art history's like taking a stab on the guts."

your caress from under the table don't really ceases when you talk, and vi's thankful of not choosing the seat next to you as it would've make her bewildered already.

"it's good to know at least you know how to make your deals" she praises, leaving the pencil against the table as she closes the book in front of her — "my brain is fried, i need to work on a laptop. can i borrow yours?"

she should get a badge, a medal or something like it that acknowledges her hard work in enduring the stupidity of having a fake relationship when your hand reaches out to her arm on top of the table to trace invisible patterns as you look up to her.

"i'll bring it tomorrow, maybe this time we could go to a cafe near here, the library can be sleep-indulgent" you suggest, "or are you going to work on the essay on your own?"

"tomorrow is fine, i don't have practice" she replies, and as much as she don't want to bring it up, she'd like to talk about your absence, about the kiss and the physical limits of your fake relationship, but she lets you push her around, demanding more touches as she cannot say no, not when your skin is soft against her and she has to keep this story of being your girlfriend letter by letter.

"text me when you're done" you say before showing her the draws you made for her anatomy classes already— "i'll have the rest for tomorrow, and you can fill me up on the next ones that come for the next week."

she brought this on herself.

you're everywhere.

in her phone when she has to unlock it, her messages every hour, her teammates ask for you, even fucking dina knew and that was a lot since she don't follow much on the uni gossip lately.

everywhere until you're all.

vi's perfectly capable of being an adult and not hold feelings for you no matter how difficult it ends up being. mainly because she refuses to be a cliche of any sort so she keeps most of her feelings on check, even when the night comes and she finds herself thinking about that saturday-night-kiss, the touches in a library, the sarcasm in your playful banters like a routine now after the days pass on by.

the world keeps on going, the earth keep it's course spinning, the moon is up in the sky and vi's trapped in the same thoughts after ten o'clock when the silence is loud, and you stop responding to her texts because you fall asleep faster than anyone she has ever seen in her life: how does she fight becoming a damn cliché when she's so near you all the time?

your activities are endless and she keeps up with every single one of them, going to the cinema cause ava got a date there, late goings to your apartment like your stablished girlfriend cause ava’s crashing and watching movies in her room, dragged her to the mall claiming you needed help to pick out some outfits as a friend more than a fake girlfriend, even inviting her to smoke from your weed now as you've shared a lot of time together by the end of the week.

and it's clear vi's on a car with no brakes at all cause she's doing important things during the day — so why does she stop in the middle of nowhere cause something little reminded her of you? something she keeps to herself like a secret and don't comment on it with no one else, abby likes to makes fun of her romantic fool behavior so she keeps it to herself.

that's how the coach's saying to her now, #08, VANDERSON: romantic fool.

friends, when was the last time she had a friendship like you? never.

she has never experienced a relation like that with nobody she knew from before. she don't really crave kissing on her friends, she don't struggle to keep the hands to herself. it makes sense for a short period of two weeks, and it's good. it's what she wanted.

after the week left? that's trouble for vi from the future.

she's trapped in your essays even when she hates to do them every single minute of the hour, yet you're drawing on her side while you randomly talk sometimes and you're not even drawing for her anatomy class now, you're just there drawing on things you like on your little sketchbook while she's invested in getting you a good grade and make sense of what she's writing.

it's a routine now. she wants it to be a routine. her grades on anatomy are insanely good by the same week and it's weirder than ever cause you talk with your advances with ava and she's reminded of the fakeness of it all, how you're after another girl and she's once again left with questionable choices.

the thing is, vi can still feel the ghost of your kiss on her lips, the tenderness of it. you taste like beer and she begs to the god the time for that moment where everything stopped so she could feel the soft taste of your mouth again, dissolve beneath you like she did before, experience it all over again until her she's able to control that aching feeling on her chest of having you seated on a skirt right over her legs.

and she cannot decide if the lack of kissing is actually a good thing or a pain in the chest cause while it keeps her mind sane, her body yearns for a different kind of contact now she's not able to ever satisfy, not without risking mixing it all up and make it even more complicated.

she has to learn how to fake it more cause she's fucking awful at it.

so it's hard. hard as ever when she spends time with you for the sake of it, just cause you mentioned coffee and she would follow you wherever you'd say without hesitation — even the fucking rims.

that's why she's there anyway, before you arrive since you seem to be late. she's used to wait for you now, you're slightly bad at estimating your time.

"what happened? why are you so happy?"

"ava, she kissed a girl yesterday, can you believe it?"

"she did?"

"i know right? fun-fucking-tastic."

now. you're all fun when you're sitting next to her, spilling details about last night when ava's knocking on your door and slipping inside your bed to talk about how she's doubting her own feelings lately; a lame excuse to be close to you as you keep going about sleeping next to her, the feeling of having her close.

no she's not jealous. she's never actually jealous of anyone, but it's the slap on her face, a reminder of reality she needed for the day. fake girlfriend.

you're her fake girlfriend.

"it seems you did brainwashed her entirely, congrats" she jokes with you, because vi's not like that, because just like when you talked to her the very first time — she keeps believing you're pretty, and she still hopes you do get the girl you want in the end, the curly redhead or whatever.

"told you i was playing my cards right" she recognize that cheeky smile as you place an small cup in front of her — "black, no sugar" you point out already knowing her order now after so many times of getting it wrong or trying to make her try sweet, weird things on the menu, "my treat. you deserve it."

"close to kiss your straight girlfriend and all i get is black coffee?" violet teases, taking a sip of the still too-hot coffee "i'm hurt i'm not worth even a little piece of cake, bug. i saw the red velvet one."

"you still up for tomorrow?" you ask sipping on your own drink content as ever, like it is indeed the best thing you have ever tried — "i'll make you the best pasta i promise, so good you'll be begging for my recipe and i wont be able to share it you know? since it's a family secret."

"wouldn't dare to miss it."

"good. my place" you remind her before checking on your phone. "ava's going to a hike with some friends until tuesday, so we'll have the place alone."

"i won't forget, weirdo."

"i know you won't" and before she can say something you're standing, leaning down to hug her affectionate as usual — "you're like, the best fake girlfriend to ever exist. you never forget."

maybe it's a game, maybe not, but she cant ignore how her skin burns now beneath your kiss. vi's face turns red at the sudden intrusion and she can still feel the almost noticeable pressure from your lips against her cheek in a quick gentle goodbye-kiss, fingers against her face before pulling away.

"don't be late" you say now at a safe distance, waving your hand "see ya' tomorrow, text you later!"

and vi's torn cause she does want to go to your apartment that monday night, but she knows, heart-level-fucking-knows, she won't be able to ignore it all forever.

it's fair to say violet would be happy just to reach the end of it in one piece.

"do you like it? be honest" you ask staring at her only to see her physical reaction to your so-called best pasta in the world, and vi shakes her head in approval as the tomato sauce seems to add the perfect taste of it — "is that a yes? please elaborate."

"it's really good" she says, but in reality, she's too distracted by the way you cornered her out of nowhere as she arrive, making her try your food from a metal spoon you hold close to her mouth "you've been cooking all this time?"

"went to the market place, it's better with fresh ingredients" you explain as she marvels at the amazing smell in the kitchen as she's there not even five minutes ago "give me your rating."

"four and a half stars out of five," she answers "i like that you put a lot of spices on it. makes it smells really good and it adds to the flavor. i dig it."

"four? are you kidding me?" you take her opinion seriously, and vi cannot help but smile at your reaction “what’s wrong with it? what’s missing?”

“salt, maybe some rosemary” she suggest, making you think before reaching out to the cabinets where you keep species “but it’s good bug, i liked it a lot.”

“try again” no that's not an act. there's no one around. ava's not near, there's no one in the apartment, not a person close by to have you pulling up an act. no, that's you all over. that's you being close to her willingly as you take the spoon to dip it in the casserole slowly stirring under the fire, placing it close to her lips.

vi parts them to try the pasta once again, the perfect amount of salt and rosemary added now to the mix — “five stars, you happy now?”

“yeah i am” you reply cocky “shit. your shirt, it got stained” you use the same spoon to pick up on the sauce that fall into the cream-white fabric, but the stain’s already there, red and gigantic.

vi don’t really mind, but you’re apologizing and suggesting her to take one of your shirts instead and she cannot resist the idea of owning something you have, even borrowed, so she's dragging her shoes to your room, slower than ever cause she's curious in seeing what it is like, the clean spaces, the posters and the vinyls she spend a good time looking at before searching between your shirts.

and she’s there standing six minutes after using that paramore shirt you love, holding out a bag of weed with an almost shy smile cause now it's different, now she lacks of the motives to touch you freely like she does outside, pull you closer like she's used to.

"you brought weed?" you ask when you pay attention to her, checking the plates before taking both of them to the small table close to the sofa.

"it's an special occasion" vi replies 'cause it's true, on wednesday two weeks will pass and the deal will be officially over now and she's sure you cooking pasta means that very same — the fake break-up.

"we can't smoke inside."

"then outside, clinging to the window. you cannot say no to me."

"the balcony" you suggest before pointing out to the food — "but we eat first, it's not going to be that good if we leave now, it's a rule."

her stomach roars so she sits in the couch with nothing to say, leaving the weed in the table. the smell makes her mouth water cause it's so good it deserves to have all five stars, she's not really used to have artisanal pasta but it's good enough to want more, so much she believes in your words now when you said it's the best pasta in the world.

pathetic as ever cause she'd eat anything you cook for her no questions ask and rate it four and a half star just to piss you off.

"amazing, this is restaurant level pasta bug" vi praises, and it makes her breathing stop for a moment when she notices the nervousness in your actions soon after, the sweat in your hands when she handled you the weed to let you roll the joint after you eat.

"glad you like it" you say to her words "my family owns a pasta restaurant so we take it very seriously."

"that's why, so you're like a pasta prodigy or something-"

"oh shut up. you really are so annoying."

a piece of her dies on your couch that night, using her hand as a barrier so she's close to you with the excuse she's preventing the weed to fall on any sudden movement, and you're not saying anything when you're breathing close to her hands and your tongue darts out to lick the paper.

easy, everything you do you make it look so easy. talent after talent you seem to do everything right and it's such a turn on it's fucking insane. vi follows you outside and she chuckles when she notices the small balcony you talked about, cause she thought it would be a nice, comfortable place rather than a small spot that makes you stand close as ever when your chest is pressed against hers and you're smiling guilty as ever.

"we can smoke downstairs if you like" the only thing preventing her from falling are the thick, metal railings and it could trigger anyone's vertigo, but she focus on you instead of the three floors that separated her from the ground, being so close has all the ingredients to make anyone nervous, a thing she don't mind at all cause it's just what she needs, have you irrevocably close "don't want you dying all sudden violet. it's safer."

"we're fine here, i got you" vi replies, and her hand holds the railing behind you, keeping you safe too as you light up the joint. no, she don't mind being that close, and you don't either, comfortable as ever when you're smoking and the moon hits the back of your head so she has this image of you she wants to hold by heart.

it's on her memories, rooted in her chest now in stone cause the white cast glows against your hair and its like a vision there in the middle of the night. red, glassy eyes you stare at her for a moment with nothing to say, and she can feel the burn of your gaze in her skin, digging holes whenever you look as if you're trying to trespass her very being as she stares at you.

it's a new look, a look violet have never had the pleasure to experience before, one she's sure it's reserved for someone else — nonetheless you're there with her, in an small balcony smoking from her weed, so close she can see the moles on your skin now.

"who you bought that from?" you ask, alone now even the silence feels different, sharper and thicker than ever — "seems really good quality."

"it is," in reality, vi spend a good amount of money cause she wants to surprise you with something nice too, not a gift but a memory you can hold on to like a hidden treasure, and there in the small place with the moon radiating its ethereal glow, the weed leaves that taste of raspberry in her mouth and you're looking so beautiful in a shirt stained with flour and a big hoodie, zipping it all the way up to the middle trying to protect yourself from the cold currents of wind, it's already an outer world experience — "a friend from a friend- it's a long story, but if you want to i can get some for you."

vi would like to say it's the weather the one who's giving her the chills, but the way you look at her makes every hair on her body stand on its own and she becomes a victim of the electricity, of the tension that wraps the air around you and her. you're passing her the joint, smoking from it as she holds it between two fingers, and she's reminded once again of the kiss you've shared with her not so long ago, the need to angle your face again to make it fit perfectly against her own.

her brain is melting away slowly.

"are you going to keep being my friend after this, bug?" the question lingers in the air and she can see how you stop breathing for a second, the slight movement of your brows from up close as you seem to think about it, makes her hate the silence.

"do you want to be my friend?" there's a hint of wonder in your voice, and vi would take anything you offer, anything at all at this point so unsure already when she knows your heart belongs to someone else, someone she don't want to replace or steal you from "after bugging you all this time?"

"that was the deal at first, i do want to be your friend" the admission leaves you breathless, cause she's so forward with it, eyes piercing yours like she's trying to get inside your brain and hear your very own thoughts — "i'll keep doing your history essays even if you want to. happy to help."

it's pitiful cause vi has reached the level where she'd do something she hates dearly to keep you close, and when her words make you laugh, her heart stops in her chest for a whole minute, blue eyes following the movements of your lips as you shake your head.

"i'll help you out with anatomy, i don't mind. you don't need to do my essays, it's just an excuse to hang out with you."

her knees fail for a second, and her knuckles turn white from the force she's using to grip the railing behind you, believing she's the one who's going to end up dizzy enough to slip and fall, leaning against you as your arms surround her tightly, worried already.

"let's go down" you insist, but how does she explain it? how does vi explain the need to have you close? she needs the excuse, the pretense of being in an small space to have you close without giving away how very into you she really is "i'm serious vi."

"you're growing soft on me or what? i'm okay, my leg hurt from training, made a bad movement" you buy the excuse, still holding onto her by one arm now, finger hooked in her belt as a way to keep her secured of any random movement "you're going to keep your hand there?"

"yes, i am if your leg's being weird" you state, and vi cannot act pissed at the feel of your hand in her pants, the mere thought already making her head spin — "don't act like i'm dramatic, we've been in way more intimate situations and i'm making sure your feet stay there in the ground."

so she's leaning into you, making no movement to push you away: how could she ever choose to smoke with you downstairs when a tiny balcony is all that she needs to have you like that for twenty minutes? even when she's blushing at your blunt words, she don't care to hide it from your gaze already aware of the red that creeps upon her neck into your shirt.

"what are you thinking about?" vi asks trying to be casual about it "is the weed that good?"

"when's your next hockey match?" you reply — "next thursday?"

"yeah, by seven" she don't seem to understand it at first before you suddenly add: "do you want to break up next week instead of wednesday? i dunno, its not fair before the game don't want to make us look bad."

is it so evident you're trying to gain more days with her? is violet imaging it all?

"yes," she would take more weeks if you offered them, more dates in coffees, bad movies in cinemas, random story times in packed frat parties "yeah i think it's a good idea."

"good," you seem almost relieved by it, and she wonders why exactly when she's so evident when it comes to you, under your spell every single time you say something. "we'll talk which day next week, no rush."

"why are you surprised by it?" vi can't help but comment on it, scanning your face as she blurts out the words without much thinking "you know i'd do anything you say."

you're always all over, always too close and she don't mind it at all.

vi dies again a second time there, suffering from these little deaths in the worst moments as the silence fills the air again and you're looking at her with that eyes she knows so damn well already it makes her stomach flutter at the realization.

"what are you doing?"

"nothing" you do so little to hide it, the constant pull on your finger tugging on her belt, the natural light colliding against your skin. you do no effort in look somewhere else, drinking in the details of vi's face cause you already know it. too many cheek kisses, to many caresses under the premise it's an act "i'm doing nothing."

"why are you looking at me like that, huh?"

"i'm looking at you like i always do."

"there's no one around to pretend with" you don't really need a reminder as vi looks around trying to search for some other person looking "no, bug. this is you on your own so please tell me — is this how you usually look at all your friends?" her question lingers in the air for a second, and it hits you when she speaks again with a devastating truth, "like you want them to be a part of you?"

"you're a friend" you stumble in your own words, and even when the joint has already turned off, she doesn't pay attention to it as your words reach her racing heart "i don't- you know i don't look at them like that."

"then please care to tell me how you look at them" she insists "cause that look right there is a look you give when you've dreamed about someone, bug."

and your skin feels hot, but you're good to ignore it even when vi's pulling you closer, finally erasing the limits to fade into you instead, arms wrap around your waist with a gentleness that scares.

"tell me to stop" she cannot longer resist it by then, the car crashes in her head and there's nowhere to escape as she's trapped there in the pilot seat. it's monday and she cannot fight the need to say it, to taste the sweetness on your lips once again, the pliant curves of your body, the need to be one with you, blend into a mix — "please tell me that i'm a creep. that you don't want me around anymore after this."

"no," you're quick to shake your head as vi's hand slide down the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the pounding skin of your pulse point and it's so sudden by then, the way her breathing hoovers against your flesh leaving a single kiss on the crook of your neck — she's been there before, faking a kiss that was now very much real ones "no don't stop, please."

to hell with it. she's all fucking in.

"i see your face everywhere you know that? i hear your laugh in every quiet moment, smell your shampoo in my sleep" fuck the weed, fuck the joint and fuck the rest of the world when the words slip from her mouth as she works her way in sloppy, wet kisses through the expanses of your neck, going up to your jaw "i think about you all the damn time, in the middle of class, when i'm training, when I'm tryin' to fucking sleep."

"you haunt me," it's a whispered confession vi needs to get out of her chest as her breathing mingles with yours in a warm mix — "in all glory. i wake up and i'm aching already because my skin’s too tight for my body. and i know... i know it's because of you."

“i’m sorry,” you say in a low voice, apologizing even when it's not your fault at all, makes her want to tear her own skin apart “i’m sorry vi, it’s not my intention to make you ache.”

“this on me, bug” she reassures you “i’m the one who’s been losing my damn mind over you.”

she wants the moment to last. vi relishes in the privacy of it, the look in your face when her kisses leave saliva in your neck, how your skin reacts to her touch now knowing it's real and on her side, willingly.

"i don't mind- i don't mind it at all, you see?" she asks, betrayed by the need on her tone, how her words lace up with a hunger you can recognize "you see what you're doing to me? how affected you got me?"

it's you this time, like you're settling the score even as you kiss her. and it's real. real than ever she believes, real as you are there on her lips, fingers tight against the waistband of her pants cause you want her closer, closer than fucking ever.

and it's messy but vi loves it. your kiss it's all teeth and tongue, desperation, need. it's your saliva all over, the taste of the joint in your lips she's quick to pick and it's just as soft, just as inviting as that saturday night she holds in her heart.

the thought is stuck there with her for a while.

vi finds out she did die a third time that night, and that she would gladly do it again cause when you ask for more kisses she bends like a willow, and it's the closer she's been to listening to heaven.

it's very safe to say violet vanderson has officially stopped fighting against the cliché this season.

you don't text the next day.

you don't text on wednesday either, and vi's sure by you're ignoring her by thursday already overthinking about being so intense with all this liking thing that was getting out of her hands. what she don't know, is how you really are spiraling into your own madness by the course of the week.

it was a pretty simple job at first: get ava. you put effort on it since you really like her, her sense of humor, her way of being — you really are into your roommate, been living with her what? six months already? she's easy to talk to, so pretty it hurts, and you surely have a list of things you love about her.

why it's so confusing then? if your feelings were se clear, so profound. it wasn't a difficult task whatsoever, and violet does an incredible job pretending you're the last glass of water in the dessert: why is so impossible now? making up excuses so your fake break-up don't come up until next week.

this whole thing was ridiculous, starting out for thinking pretending was going to be a good idea cause you get used to it, to the tattoo on her cheek, the foreign warmth of her fingers brushing against your skin, her kisses. it’s getting in your head now so by monday night, your last string of coherence jumps out of the balcony to end up asking for more kisses you crave then like no one else will.

it's a need, a feverish need cause your lips are sore by the end of the night, and vi's reluctant when pulling away. you want more yet it's not good, not possibly good cause this whole thing started out for someone else and you're unsure — do you really like ava now?

everything fall on it's own, cause by thursday night your roommate’s knocking on your door in the of middle the night saying she wants to see a movie, bringing up her laptop to place it between the two of you like a barrier, one ava's good to surpass when she's leaning to rest her head against your shoulder.

it's meaningless at first, you're concentrated on watching so you're unaware of ava's tactics to distract you.

"how it's everything going with the i-like-girls subject?" you ask at the lack of interest in the film — "any other revelation from the sky?"

"not really" she says, and the talking seems to make her confident all sudden when she's resting her head in your legs now and you have a good view of her in an oversized shirt you've seen as a pajama before "not any advance, i have interest in some particular girl now."

"oh. makes sense."

you don't know how to explain how everything shifted all sudden, but it's what you wanted right? what you plot from the beginning as ava's pulling her laptop to the side only to kiss you comfortably: it's what you've been craving for months, the soft touch of her hands slipping beneath your shirt, the breathy moans she gives against your mouth when you're gripping on her thigh.

so why the fuck does it not feel as rewarding as it should? you're kissing on fucking violet three nights ago and you only know her by two weeks now, but your stomach twist in knots at the touch, the intimacy of it — but with ava? the girl you've been talking to your friends about for like three months now? not a damn thing and it’s so unfair.

you kiss her again and she's a damn mess. she tastes like bubblegum and it's too sweet for moment but you force yourself to it. pull yourself together as ava's straddling your lap now and you can already smell her arousal in the air, the way she grinds in your leg seeking for friction.

get it fucking together: please.

you should love it too. drown in her, keep ava in your bed like you've thought about multiple times, but despite all your efforts to want her, you find yourself pushing your roommate away, grabbing her shoulder to gently peel her off your body to put some reasonable distance between the two of you.

"hold on," you say catching on your breath, and she seems struck for a moment trying to understand what's going on — "i can't do this."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no, not at all you're perfect" you admit shaking your head, and she's sitting now in bed, fixing how high her shirt was, aware of your rejection "it's me, ave. i'm really sorry."

"it's my fault- you have a girlfriend" you don't bother to clear up the truth cause you want ava to believe that. in fact. you want everyone to keep believing that "i should go-"

there's not a way to not make it awkward cause you just tossed months of crushing on a girl to the trash because of a stupid feeling you don't know how to control. you're realizing it an hour or so after being left alone in your room, door closed as you sigh in defeat: you need to see violet again.

so fuck texting, absolutely fuck calling.

you’re getting dressed in the middle of the night as you check on your phone, and you don't seem to care about how it's past midnight when your jumping on to buckle on your black jeans, hiding in a big hoodie that covers you from the autumn air.

no.

you hold your phone and your keys before heading out, not bothering to let your roommate know due to obvious events, that you're leaving to spend the night somewhere else; and the cold of the night does not bother you, instead, it's refreshing as your feet follow the path to her place on it's own trying to distract yourself from thinking, regret it.

it’s not very clear on why you carry your sketchbook and the shirt she stained on monday night now fresh from the laundry with you, the need to give an excuse maybe? hell. you should be kissing ava.

even when you avoid it, it's all about vi in the end.

it makes you want to punch yourself when you end up running cause you can’t wait, can’t possibly wait for it any longer after avoiding her texts like they’re poison.

"what are you doing here?" vi asks when you knock on the door too many times, making her grumpy as she lazily stands to open.

"your shirt. i came to bring your shirt."

"it's one in the morning, and you only came for a shirt?" she’s leaning against the doorframe, not believing it for a second as she holds the shirt in her hand "what's that?" — "your sketchbook?"

"yeah" now, in front of her you start to chicken out a little. her eyes look at the black book in your hands as you, once again, regret appearing out of nowhere so late in the night, the adrenaline seemingly washing away by the seconds "were you sleeping?"

"bug," her tone is tired almost, shaking her head before speaking again "you’ve been ignoring me since we kissed on monday, and you're here because of a shirt? tell me the truth. stop avoiding it."

you cannot hide it.

but you try to make up another excuse either way, pathetic when the seconds pass and you don’t come up with anything but silence — “i’m sorry,” you say, and you hate it cause you’ve been apologizing a lot for the night already.

“what’s on your mind?” vi’s crossing her arms against her chest, demanding an answer “tell me. why are you really here so late?”

"i don't know what else to do, i needed to see you" you're under the spotlight for a second, but the words come out before you can think about what you're saying so out of nowhere "the shirt's an excuse, my sketchbook too, i just wanted to see you."

"did the kiss scare you off?"

"yes. it fucked me up right in the brain" you let her know, and when you see the slight smile on her lips — almost a gesture vi tries to avoid, your heart seems to keep on it's turbulent ride with no return "did it too well 'cause you're all that i care about lately. you're my first thought in the morning and my deepest agony in the nights, and you've done it, i don't how. i don't care, but you've ruined all my plans."

the honesty catches vi off guard, her brows furrowing together for a second as she's aware of the strain in your voice, how this has come to affect you as much as she's affected.

"i don't care about ava no longer, you ruined her for me" it's almost like you're mad at yourself at it, shaking your head as you still blurt out your problems outside her doorframe "i don't give a shit 'cause i'm making up excuses to keep being your fake girlfriend. motives to keep you close. but you go there so openly kissing me when no one's looking and sweet fuck do you too understand, how there's no one like you?-"

vi doesn't let you finish when just like you did in her balcony, she hooks her finger on the waistband of your jeans now, using an small amount of force to pull you forward until she can close the door beneath you and finally corner you against the thick wooden door.

unlike ava, everything's slow. her hands wraps around your waist and you can feel it in her skin, in the tight embrace she keeps you in as her face hides in the curve of your neck she knows by memory. it would be so easy to fake you're not consumed by her, put some distance and never see vi again, but she's kissing on your skin again like it happened on monday, and whatever you wanted to say dies in your throat, moving your head to the side to give more space to her hungry touch.

"i'd ruin ava for you again," vi admits, proud of her own actions "you're better off with me anyway."

after so many kisses her teeth finds the right spot to bite and make you shiver, and she holds you still, right against the door and leaving no room to move without her noticing — broad figure towers over you and you close your eyes at the pressure of her mouth in your neck, the slight pain that comes with it that makes you moan at the contact.

"i'm trying to talk to you," you try to say, and she hums like she's giving you the reason "vi- don't be mean, listen to me."

"i am mean and i don't listen" she agrees with you, like somehow it will solve everything as she's too busy leaving soft kisses on your cheek before her mouth barely touch the corner of your lips.

her breathing’s warm, her touch almost reverent as vi’s hands finds their way beneath your hoodie and she's pushing on the lower part of your back to have you closer, until she’s intoxicated in you.

"i’m paying attention, bug" she says, taking a minute to look at you even at the lack of lights on her dorm room "keep telling me about how i ruined it all, how you're crazy about me- i'm listening."

"i was with her just now- you don't care?"

"no, i don't" vi shakes her head not even amused, and her breathing mixes up with yours as she's invading your space without an invitation "i don't care if you were. you are here now. you are here with me."

so that's how it starts, like everything's on fire and it slowly burns to ashes in your mind.

she knows the grounds of your body like it's holy terrain, too many hugs, too many times with you seated on her lap, gentle touches vi hold by memory until she's free to touch now without retaliation, when her hands are finally roaming around to grab you by the ass and squeeze it as she muffles any complaint against the hollow of her mouth.

and it's a kiss she needs to repeat multiple times more, one that steals the air from her lungs as your hand pulls on the strands of her cherry hair, parting your lips cause it's a kiss you want to carry under your skin, like a stamp on your brain. she deepens it like her life much depends on it, and her tongue — warm and playful, pushes against yours at it discovers once again the place she has experienced before.

there's nothing else to say: you're there now. you picked her.

despite all your efforts on fake dating, of being already whispering for another person in the beginning: you choose violet.

"what's in the sketchbook?" vi asks, fingers are warm against your skin, and the hoodie you took to protect yourself from the cold is no longer necessary when it now lays on the floor. vi's tank top is quick to follow, and you can't help but stare at her for a good moment, the heartbeats on your chest devastating as usual.

it's intimate. you've had sex before, pretty girls that stole your breath even but that's a whole different level, you've never experience that feeling in your chest, that need in your hands when they touch bare skin and you're greeted with a crave that goes far beyond sex and the act of it.

"drawings. drawings of you from when we studied together."

shattering. she's gentle cause vi wants to savor it: what's the point in the rush? she's taking her time in touching, in pulling your shirt upwards little by little. she kisses you until your lips are puffy and you are clouded by a haze of lust as you try to mark the skin of her chest, yet it's a fight, cause she's the one who wants to taste you first, the one who wishes to blow your mind before anything.

vi didn't plan any of it — in all reality, she tried to fight it as much as she could, but you're letting her walk you down to her messy bed, wrinkled sheets still holding on her body heat when you're resting against them and she lets you win. vi's placing herself between your legs and the space is small, but once again small spaces are unexpectedly good cause she has no other option but to be all over you, helping you get off your pants as they are tossed close to your hoodie.

"touch you-" she struggles to ask "can i touch you?"

"please," it's a dangerous feeling what installs in vi’s chest. once again, she's utterly affected by the color of your eyes, how they take her to a brief journey to the moon, the plea in your tone that makes her forget about the lack of messages the last two days, how you suddenly distanced yourself because you were scared. "stop asking and please just touch me already."

it makes her feel desired when her fingers touch you from over the underwear and you're already wet, the fabric clinging to your lips already soaked and ready for her, it makes vi breathe out heavily as she's aware of how debouched she can get you by some kisses, words.

you're her favorite nightmare, cause she has dreamed about that very moment before but it does not come near by how devastating you really are. a force of nature as vi's making your underwear to the side, so sensitive when she's just using a couple of fingers to spread you open, have a good sight of your pussy as she fights the idea to go down on you already.

her mouth waters as you shiver, unable to hold the reaction in as she seems to be lost in the soft texture of soaked pussy. she rubs against your clit slow at first like she's letting you get used to her touch first before she's taunting your entrance with a couple of digits.

"you're really tight huh?" she asks when her fingers begin to push just slightly, making your breathing get stuck in your throat as you whine at the intrusion — "there bug, breathe. can't finger-fuck you like this. let yourself feel good, soak your pretty panties for me.”

“gods- vi” you moan, and the sound itself is so hot she stares at you for a minute “i can take your fingers ah- i can.”

“i know princess, i know you can” she smiles at your need to please, to do and be reminded how good you’re doing “let your greedy hole relax for me so i can fill it out f’you, you feel so warm already.”

it’s chaotic and vi wished she put on a towel beneath before, a pain she quickly forgets about when you’re putty in her fingers, walls clenching against her intrusive fingers as she shoves them in one more time, pulsating cunt opening and getting used to her as your back arches against the bed presenting to her wide open.

she uses a hand to keep you there. spreaded you like she wants you to be, even when you’re shaking involuntarily and her fingers withdrawal entirely before she pushes them back again knuckles-deep in your tight channel.

“suck me back in, get used to me” she says as your pussy makes room for her slender digits, filling you just right until they curve to hit on a special spot she discovers in awe— “there it is- there baby? does it feel good there?”

and your tits bounce with each thrust, your arousal gathers in the palm on vi’s hand, and she’s drunk already, drunk in you and the sounds you make, your incoherent words asking for more, begging to be fucked harder. you move against her fingers and your cunt makes this filthy sound it makes her moan already dampening her own underwear.

“yes- fuck yes” you moan, your arms can barely hold you up now as you fall against your elbows, and vi can feel the moment you squeeze her fingers, the inconsistency on the movements of your hips — “feels s’good vi, filling me up so good.”

it’s pride that installs in her chest, helping you move since you’re too dumb to function from yourself: it’s so fucking nice since you’re barely holding in by a thread, the mount of her hand brushing against your clit and she knows you’re close, but instead of giving you time to breathe, play with you a little, she’s too desperate, yanking at the fabric of your bra just get rid of it.

her mouth closes around your breast, and the sweat on your skin feels salty, aphrodisiac as she marks the skin sucking until it’s a whole different color, harshly biting on the stiffed peak of your nipple.

“you gonna cum?” she asks, breathing against your skin “god-you’re squeezing me so tight-”

the pain mixes up deliciously, and you can’t speak nor gather words in your mouth who can let vi know how close you really are, but she reads it in your body language, in the way your legs shake and you really struggle to keep them apart.

“keep them spread let me see you,” her tone is gentle even when she’s destroying you at it’s finest, as her fingers curl inside your sensitive cunt and she rubs inside that spot inside of you she's very much aware of now — “if you’re going to cum, you might as well do it good.”

her leg pushes yours open, and you’re trapped there beneath her weight, her bites on your skin that will leave marks that won’t come out for days. your moans get louder by the seconds and it’s that thing you need to let the orgasm pour in, hot lava against your skin as your body tenses up and you’re shaking in her hands.

and vi picks it up in no time, fingers nestled inside you, moving them ever so slightly as you come undone. the sight itself makes her sure she’s leaking against her underwear, the sweat on your skin that makes you glow against the barely illuminated sheets messier than ever.

"hush," vi says seconds after as your pleasure subsides, not giving you much time to recovery after it "don't want the whole building to hear-"

her fingers, wet from your arousal, trace the corners of your mouth, the seam of your lower lip as a silent invitation. you make delicious sounds, yet they’re so loud vi ends up shoving the same fingers she fucked you with now in your mouth trying to muffle them a little.

and it’s inviting even, the vibrations your sweet moans make as she pushing her digits further, making you taste yourself as she finally shuts you up.

vi's cunt's already slick when she's pulling on her underwear away, makes you switch places with her as her head falls against the pillows now for a second when you're placing yourself between her parted legs, tangled limbs as you settle your cunt against her's and: hell.

her fingers push against your throat making you choke on them, and you can hear the sound vi makes when you move on top of her again, pussy already glistening with arousal as it rubs deliberately against her's, almost a kiss as you can feel when every inch of her is already throbbing against you.

swollen clit, schlick sounds fill the air — it's filthy, almost diabolical when your sweat mixes up with her, when body fluids are not gross and instead, you crave every inch you can get.

"fuck peach, you're so wet," vi mutters under her breath, and a hand slips to grope your tits, rolling the stiffed nipple between her fingers "ah- s'fucking crazy how your pretty pussy was made to fit mine."

her words slur together and it makes you smile, makes you feel good as her hands force you to move on top of her, only adding to the sensation when her finger goes further down now to massage your clit, braindead as your movements become more erratic by the seconds, uncontrolled.

"come on baby, you're doing so good" vi praises, encouraging you to keep on moving as her digits slide so fucking easy between your legs, allowing them to touch how needy she makes you, how fast she's able to reduce you to pieces — "you gonna cum all over my cunt, baby? s'that it?"

vi loves every minute, the moans that fill the air and you try so hard to muffle, the distortion on your face as you force yourself to keep moving even when your legs shake in response, your body gives up and you function in autopilot.

drool slides down her arm, using her fingers to slowly fuck your mouth with them, an smile stirs vi's lips upwards as she can see the white traces of your arousal mixing up with her own in a delicious mix between your legs, unable to answer her questions as you're too busy being choked on her digits.

"use your words, love" it's the fucked out expression that gets her, hole already clenching around nothing as strings of white cum connect you to her "you can do it, you're a good girl."

"sweet fuck-vi," you breathe out when she's withdrawing her fingers out, and your voice is rougher now than ever, raspy as saliva drips down your chin. you're much aware of the lewd sound of her cunt in constant contact with yours, holding her hand before lacing your fingers with vi's as she encourages you to keep on moving.

you need an anchor.

it's slow and torturing, the greatest cruelty as each roll of your hips bring you deliciously close to the edge, little by little as the wet from vi's arousal gathers in your thighs, the expanses of your cunt — fuck you're going to cum like this.

theres silence in the room now, but violet appreciates it more than ever cause she can listen to your hitched breathing, lips swollen now from how much you've been using them, the slick, lewd sounds of your pussy against her own.

her vision fade to black when she cums, gripping on your waist like she needs to hold herself from flying to the damn moon, moving you until you're shaking on top of her and your eyes swell up with tears before you cum too, oversensitive when you pant out her name as she holds you close.

"i got you," she whispers, but she don't stop moving you against her soaked, sensitive pussy in response — "i got you peach. it's okay m'not going anywhere."

it means more than just a promise, more than just something tossed to the air as she lets you rest on top of her, ten minutes until she's moving you to switch places once more, making you lay on her pillows now comfortable.

and you look at her searching for an explanation, but vi already has one when she's leaving soft kisses agains your lower belly.

"gonna try how good we taste together, it will only be a moment."

fake girlfriends right? what a fucking joke.

it's awfully good.

dangerously good when you're trapped with vi the next days. a good way of saying it cause she got you in her practices now that she settles with the team you really are off-limits, on your free times and by night when you whine about how small her bed is for two persons now that you spend time there in her room.

it's been three days and no one's surprised by the kisses, by the touches, by the way she cannot be seen without you around, and it could be nothing to the rest already used to it, but to vi's a damn rollercoaster, one she's experiencing like never before.

she's allowed to stole kisses now, to touch — and she' so clingy about it.

ellie makes fun of her and abby won't shut up when she sees the two of you in the same room, but vi likes it. makes her feel weirdly good. so much she don't think about her on and off story with sarah, how she's been hearing rumours all over because you're on her mind.

she becomes addicted to your kisses by friday, and it don't take long but she wants you in her arms every second of the day she's not expected to do something and it's like before, surprising enough is like when you dragged her to the rims, when you bring her complex coffees with weird smells she hates.

she even spends the weekend latched in your back even when you explain you have to study — "i'll help you out, i swear" she promises, but she does nothing but distract you when she's sitting on top of you, hands kneading the gloves of your ass until you're leaving your books unattended and vi smiles cause she has your attention to her now.

it was good, faking it. slide in the stole caresses, the kisses who where to mislead others — but that's the real thing, better than ever when no one knows you're melting there cause she kisses you on top of her motorbike you're still reluctant to ride, making you hug her as the wind blows your hair in what you call bike therapy and there's no other place she needs to be, another person she needs around.

she makes you part of her life with an ease that was already there, an small extra step as she goes to find you right after classes, giving you at least fifteen good reasons about how you should be spending the afternoon with her instead of drawing and working there on your own.

yes. violet vanderson is so in love with your mess. your painted hands when you get so into drawing, the images of her in your sketchbook she had no idea you were doing but they're etched on each page until there's no more space.

it's a silent agreement. she don't have to say anything cause you understand her, and vi gets you too. a sense of belonging she never had until that moment.

it's a rare side she barely shows, with you only. she's always a bit distant from the rest, reserved, but on the intimacy of your shared moments she seems nothing but the contrary — constantly craving for attention, for love and whispered words of wanting.

it's weirdly good until the catharsis comes on sunday, when vi's picking you up to go to this party you don't really want to go on the first place. the music's loud, and you crave to see a good movie in your room beneath at least five blankets, but you're by her side cause you know it's a party in honor to the hockey team, a way of wishing good luck since they've won every single match in the season now with a streak of gold.

and you pay no attention to it, but sarah's there too, and unlike any other time she's there cause she wants to talk to vi now that she's cozy enough to call you her girl so blatantly, mainly because she's mad since she can't believe vi would choose anyone over her.

it's not her fault either — sarah's in love and love hurts like a dagger. so when you say you're going to the bathroom, she's already talking to her without a previous warning.

"violet," she greets with a smile, looking extra beautiful tonight cause she puts effort on her look. she wants to make an impression, want her ex to remember her in the best moments they shared together "how are you? haven't seen you for a while."

things are never simple. love constantly hurts. sarah knows it by herself when she's leaning too close, when she's touching vi's arms as the conversation goes on by the minutes.

"i miss you" she says after, and vi has been there before. in the sweet words and the whispered lies "this thing you got with her- are you serious about it? you really like her?"

her words are low, low enough so only vi could hear, close so she's punched by the smell of her shampoo, long nails scratching on her skin — sarah's going to kiss her if she allows her to keep all touchy like that. vi can feel the mint on her breath colliding in her skin and it's wrong, wrong now since she don't want it at all, cause sarah's far from her mind now, long gone for months and a person she wants to avoid.

and vi's about to push her away, explain how yes she's very serious about you, but she's pushed in an awkward kiss instead that paralyzes her for a moment, makes her brain stop for a long second cause she's not expecting it, the sudden contact of her ex girlfriends hands as she steals a kiss, how random all was.

"what the fuck," she breathes out when she's pushing sarah away, but it's clearly late when she can spot you from the corner of her eye already leaving the party, not really looking in her way as you exited the house — "what the fuck was that?"

she don't bother to hear sarah's explanation when she's too busy running after you, she don't need one. things are long finished, and vi wants to explain that to you when the cold weather from outside's making her skin shiver.

"wait-" she calls you out — "fuck, wait up!"

from where you looked, this was far beyond a simple interaction. after all the times you heard she wanted to make clear she was over sarah you know there's a lot of history. she's there looking hot as ever as she bats her eyelashes and leans dangerously close to vi's mouth — and you're looking like a fool.

it's a punch in the face, one that feels deeper than any wound as vi don't seem to notice until you're leaving the place, heart pounding all over the place as you can feel the shame on your body like an old friend: she's there, kissing on sarah fortune when minutes before she was with you already handsy?

the night grows silent as you quickly walk away. like a shame walk back home cause there's no fucking way you're riding her motorbike ever again.

is it betrayal? the two of you never settled anything more than a fake relationship — or maybe, it's the utter fear in the pit of your stomach cause you like her more than you expected?

"please- don't leave-" vi says catching on her breath "sarah there- it's not what you're thinking."

"it's okay vi. you don't owe me any explaining" you talk without much emotions on your face: you should have insisted on movie night.

"i do. you know i do" she's quick to reply, shaking her head in denial "i care about what you think, you're so damn important to me, sarah she's-"

"listen. you're not my girlfriend" you remind her, and in all sense of the word, she isn't. you never talked about being in a relationship with her, neither did vi mentioned it in the four days of paradise "it's better if we keep things like they were before, we're at the perfect time until it's too late. i'm fake dating you."

vi has experienced pain before yes. the air being stolen from her lungs, but your words sink in like a finger twisting against a bullet hole in her shoulder, cold as ever as her brows furrow in response — you're too pissed to listen.

"this is a misunderstood," she insists, "you know it's not like that. this is real. what we have is real, please just- hear me."

"we've made the limits too blurry," you try to explain, and in the cold air you shiver against the cold weather of autumn and she wants to give you her scarf to protect you from the air knowing you'll say no, standing at a safe distance in front of you — "you kissing on sarah it's what we needed vi. the push we were lacking to break this fake thing. i can't hold it no longer, we've fucked it up."

"bug. don't do this."

"it's the agreement we had first place," you interrupt, already annoyed as you shove your hands inside the pockets of your jacket and vi can't stand it. can't stand the disappointment in your voice as you speak — "we broke the rules we settled in the first place. i like you more than i ever know, i'm going to your practices, riding your bike- it's not what we agreed upon."

"it wasn't real. the rules they were never real" there's desperation in her tone vi does not care to hide anymore, taking a step closer to you. "don't tell me you believed in them, i broke them the very same day we settled them. they are not real, never counted."

it's almost like she's saying it over and over again to calm down the fire on her chest, the flames that rises in her lungs as she breathes in the cold air sober than ever.

"you have things to talk with your ex still vi, and i'm not really good in the equation. i don't want to be involved in whatever you have going on with her, it's your business. make up your mind first."

she wants to insist, make you stop right there even when she's close to have a frostbite to this point, freezing cold as you, cold as ever, continue your way and leave her standing her, trying to make sense of it all.

you never fucking listen.

so you disappear and it's like a dream all over when she's going back to the house, expectant of waking up in her wrinkled sheets with you already using more than half of the bed.

but vi never wakes up and she knows you're right at some point.

she needs to talk with sarah.

you'd catalogue it as a supersonic sunburst.

a ray of sunshine coming up from between the clouds that blinds you momentarily, fast like the speed of sound — supersonic.

she's like a supersonic sunburst.

violet vanderson's able to crawl under your skin to live there with you without knowing, and when she's missing, there's a hollow inside you even you were perfectly great before when you had no idea of her oh so important existence.

it's nothing to the point it becomes everything because you miss her too. scared of actually fall in, of let her know the way to your heart.

news are fast cause by the next day people in the party's already commenting on what happened: vi kissing her ex? it's all they talk about in whispered confessions when you're around, walking in campus in black shades cause you refuse to let people think you're even slightly affected by her and whatever relationship she had now with sarah.

you let them speak due to your lack of good choices when it comes to picking a fake girlfriend with a reputation that followed. it was a part of the deal and you're taking your part in it. fair.

even ava seems to take pity of you when she's talking to you again, and it's a huge relieve cause you were sure she was going to politely ask you to find for another place to live when in reality, she's offering you from the pizza she ordered like a truce, being all sensitive when she's asking about your emotional status as she heard things.

everybody seems to add something new, even yourself as you're aware on the late news that spread throughout the campus by tuesday morning: vi's back with sarah again, she's saving her a seat for the thursday game, they were together in the rims.

and loneliness suits you better. you like to think about that cause you're forgotten and left out this love triangle like you asked before, and it's funny cause you agreed in something entirely different in the beginning, but you don't get the pretty girl in the end, and vi, even when she’s so invested in pushing her ex away, ended up gaining the whole contrary.

four days of heaven it's not near enough to cover the time you needed with her, but your pride it’s too big to let down so when she stops texting you, you subtly understand it’s because she got someone new: some things are better left unsaid.

you crave to be loved, to be need and wanted, but to be loved is to be bare under the naked eye: three weeks with violet and you’re what? crushed because her pretty ex is back? better to have a broken heart now before you’re in too deep.

you're officially done with the world of love. at least it's what you keep repeating to you and your close ones, that worried friend that insists on knowing how you're doing over text: you're done with love, and impossible, borderline stupid crushes.

"are you ever going to get out of your room?" ava asks as she enters the space, opening the curtains "it really smells like death in here."

"no i'm not" you reply, tired from being up all night watching on some tv series as a way to subside with your bad luck lately — "i'm gonna finish the last season of yellowjackets, actually. heard shauna's a real bitch in there."

"listen to me, i say this as a friend, but the smell in here, it's you" ava points out as she opens the window to let the air filter "my field trip will be over in a couple of days. after that, you're going out with me to see actual people. you need it."

"i'm okay."

"yeah. sure you are. please take a fucking shower before you kill us both due to intoxication, my eyes are watering."

"that's really over the top. dramatic even."

being friends with ava however, it's the weirdest thing you have ever experienced. you liked her since the moment you saw her, but now she's nothing but a good friend when she's taking the delivery food rests from the floor with a grossed look.

"if i see spider, i'm evicting you."

your recent friend has this geological field trips you don't understand much, but she's gone for a couple of days usually. maybe that's why on thrusday, you wake up paranoid as ever when you hear a noise coming out from your roommate's dorm.

you want to say you're crazy, but the sound's there again subtle and distant, as your brows furrow in concern: ava’s not in the house until tomorrow, and it's definitely not her when you can hear footsteps.

thieves. somebody got into ava’s room and they’re stealing all her stuff — “ave?” you ask out from the kitchen, receiving silence in response “you home earlier?”

to be fair, you don’t think much when you’re walking up to her door, opening up without a previous warning only to find out a scene you’re once again not welcomed in.

“what the fuck?” you can hear ava’s pitched voice when all suddenly stops and you froze for a moment “get out! why are you still here?”

it should be worst things in life that finding out your former crush is now with a redhead, right? — starting out for redheads kissing each other, cause that's a crime to society.

“don't you know how to knock?” she screams from the inside “i texted you yesterday telling you i was going to come home early, dumbass.”

“i'm so sorry” you reply on the other side of the door, holding on a laugh at the other side as you don't want to make her ever further mad — “there’s a lock you know? you can use it sometimes.”

“fuck off.”

however, you’re opening the door again to interrupt a new make out session much covered now, staring at the other girl you ignored before, the redhaired you did not recognize until you're blatantly checking on her.

“sarah. you’re fucking sarah fortune,” you state almost not believing it as you can feel the loud pounding in your chest at the realization, and ava's blushing the same shade of her messy hair as you point it out impressed "i'm gonna let you guys keep at that, you know? yeah. goodbye."

your mouth falls open when you're closing out the door at your back, and you're celebrating without making a sound as it was the most awkward moment of your life.

ava. ava's fucking sarah.

it's news you want to share, but none of your friends would understand how important it is, so you cannot do anything but keep it to yourself.

and it hits you as you go to room again ready to play some loud music so you don't hear anything — if sarah's there: does it mean she's not dating vi back again?

ah. fuck. maybe you'll need to swallow your pride a little bit.

vi's been thinking about you lately. quite a lot.

it starts like a memory in the morning. vi gets up earlier cause she got so much energy lately she don't know where to put it as she runs as much as she can for at least an hour, and it extends to the afternoon where she's sure her phone buzzed with one of your texts, when in reality, it's empty as you don't reply to any of her tries.

and it bring sadness by the night, when she's smoking on her own and the air's cold but she don't want to use a sweater since it's too peaceful to move, to remember she's alive again.

how is she so utterly affected by you?

she ends up overthinking about the brief story she shared with you on the course of almost three weeks in which she allowed you, in plain sight, to get closer to her than anyone to the point she's used to your company — her practices where she seems distracted as ever, her usually bad choices you prevent in the movies since she's always insisting in action movies.

she misses you, and it's her fault mainly when she let you in so easy, without much questioning. almost like you already belonged there.

"violet, you're in" to be fair. she don't want to play by thursday. she's not into the mood lately.

the place is packed and the other team is not giving up as they fight every second on the ice, yet vi's not really there. the game is on its peak point, there's tension and competition in the air, loud noises from the public already cheering on their preferred team, but she's insisting, over and over again, how she should be left in the benches since she's suffering from a strange pain in her shoulder: how is one of the greatest players in the team going to spend the whole game seated?

"i'll only slow the team- send akali" she suggests, but the coach shake her head as she screams to the referee "i'm not at my best."

"since when you're bothered by a little wound, vi?" the coach ask, and her nose wrinkles in defeat: never really, she's usually pushing through misery "there are recruiters out there looking for their next super star, now don't be dumb and get in the ice now."

it's harsh, what vi needed to hear as she's biting on her safety mouth guard before being pushed to the ice by the third and last period — she just wishes to survive.

you've slowly become a problem since the only thing you do, even when you're not near, is mess up with her head. she's being shoved and pushed by two minutes in, and she cannot get twenty minutes of silence when she spots you there in the seats using this red white and blue jersey with her number on it and it's just like the one she's wearing now.

you're there.

is it a dream? has she reached the point where she's hallucinating? maybe there's a rational explanation, maybe vi's brain so stressed lately it makes up things due to the adrenaline or something like that. makes sense. the rush.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? wake the fuck up-" ellie curses by her side when vi can feel the blood on her mouth as she's shoved to the side, roughly pushed against the border to crash her head against the thick protection plastic that surrounded the rink, the other team quickly reducing her offense to nothing as they score in their favor — "if we lose i'm going to kill you violet. i mean it."

despite the threats of her captain, vi forces herself to look again at the spot she saw you before and you're there again — worried as you tried to see how she was doing, wearing her shirt and she's lost for a moment.

you came.

it makes her breathing erratic, and for a moment she don't know if it's for the pain or that hazy feeling on her chest but you're there and it means so damn much to her as you smile at her for a moment and you shyly mutter a hi like you're not already wearing a jersey with her name on it.

she's mad at you. violet needs to stay mad at you cause you don't ever fucking listen, and she tried to explain so many times before she was never into sarah or whatever it may have seemed, how the kiss was actually against her will — how she was long done with her ex before you even came to the picture.

she wants to pause the game for a brief moment and demand you to listen to her now, make clear she never cared about sarah nor ava for once, but she values her life also cause ellie's already giving her a bad look as they are already on a bad situation, so even under your gaze she pays attention to the game.

it's what she loves, even when she's swallowing her own blood and she's sure there are going to bruises bigger than her hand, she's shouting to abby from the other side and in the blink of an eye — there it is. score.

the public shouts in the bleachers and to be a person that don't watch any kind of sports you really seem to enjoy the game as you never been into one before, celebrating with the rest: stay mad at you. she needs to remember, stay mad at you.

in the end, vi's filthy and reeking sweat, tossing her gloves powder's painted to the floor as a way of supporting her since she hates going to games and actually stay seated for two hours, the big helmet she holds in her hands before she's crushed in a hug from the team as they celebrated another victory.

golden streak.

her friends are shouting her name since she made the last point on their half, and even when it makes her feel good about it, she's searching for you in the room, an smile on your face as you looked at the celebration cause you're proud of her — she's really good in what she does.

you've seen her practices but a game was different. so you stay there hidden in the sea of the people around you, but vi can spot you right away since you got this light on your own she can pick up from the distance.

and the athlete can feel the weight of your eyes in hers, even at the distance she cannot enjoy a celebration under her name cause she aches to see you, needs to clear up some things before anything else, so she's awkwardly smiling to the greetings, acting polite as she skates her way out of the rink between jokes and hair scratches of the girls she has been playing for years: we're going to win this season if you keep up like this vi, leave some room for us mortals.

her cheeks are blushed since she's not really used to it, people praising on her so blatantly, but it gives her the confidence she needs to leave her ice skates on the floor.

"what are you doing?" abby asks when she notices she's not really going to the changing rooms but instead, about to jump out the small wall that separate the players seats from the public barefoot — "not celebrating with us?"

"later," vi says already in the other side "need to take care of something else first."

she don't receive an stupid joke back, refreshing almost as she climbs up the stairs. usually she takes a long shower after a game ready to celebrate but now, vi's walking between the people who's patting her arm, touching on her painted helmet and congratulating her for a good game.

and really, vi'd like to walk to you faster, but she has to say thank you to each compliment as an awkward smile stirred her lips upwards.

"hi."

"hey," you greet her back, and she knows the signs of your body when you're nervous as she ha already seen it so many times before, the look in your face that sold you out entirely "great game, congratulations."

"thank you" she replies, even when she's already combusting in how many praises she got already, your words scratches a different part on her brain. you're special to her, your words mean more than the rest "you came."

"i did," it's hard to remember she needs to stay mad at you cause it's difficult like this, you're there in a jersey with her name on it, that smile on your face she likes to see every single time — "i told you i wanted to come."

"yeah. i missed you," the words escape from her lips before she can think about what she's saying and it's too late to regret them as the simple admission makes you breathless "and i'm really pissed at you too."

"i'm sorry-" vi has lost count now of many many little deaths she has experienced in your company, but there goes another one as the air is stolen from her lungs and the rest of the public is disappearing until there's only the two of you reduced in the cold temperature of the rink, "for not hearing what you have to say."

"i never wanted to kiss sarah," she says at a safe distance, holding onto her helmet like her life depends on it — "i'm not into her, i explained that to her too."

"you aren't" you reply, and vi's almost relieved when she notices you are listening to her "i know it."

"i don't know what you heard, i've heard some crazy shit myself" it slowly fades away until it's not there anymore, that weird anger that she felt before and was so invested in not forgetting in the ice “i’m not with sarah either, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s dating ava” you told her as her eyes widened at the information “like fully dating, walked into them today.”

“what?” vi’s struck for a moment before chuckling in aware “holy shit, that's some news-"

"yeah" you agree with her before you're pulling out this white paper from the back pocket of your jeans, a tiny paper that turned out to be a good sized tablecloth she can recognize from before — "i found our rules. wanted to show them to you."

"you came here to show me the rules were real?" vi asks holding in a laugh, looking at the words you write down with her brows furrowed "this is still not enough to count i'm afraid. i was too busy eating and i didn't agree on most."

"what? don't cheat it does count" you roll your eyes in response as you point out your own handwriting to specific numbers — "we broke up rules. number one, two three and five to be specific, which is most of them."

"is this your way of saying sorry? explaining you're right?" vi holds the paper between her fingers as she takes a step forwards to you, hiding it beneath her back as she looks down to you "not inviting me one of those artisanal pasta dishes you make? you're not working here for my love."

"i am right" you proudly state as she chuckles, not making a movement to step back and reject her advances. "you should admit it either way, those there are real rules you broke."

people are long gone by now, the bleachers now empty as you prove your point and vi's dropping the helmet to the floor cause she's too busy holding you now, right between her arms as her hand cups your cheek and she's making you meet her gaze.

"you're right, i broke the rules" she gives you the point, another win to your book she wants you to have — "we broke up the rules, do you have any complains now that you know you're right?"

"not really" she's smiling against your lips as you add — "maybe we did were a bad movie in the end, one where the main characters fall in love cause they are so dumb they thought they could pull out a fake relationship."

"a bad movie" she agrees with you, there's no point in hiding it as she's cutting the inches that separates her lips from yours in a much necessary, colliding kiss — "we are a bad movie."

"hold up-"

"what?" vi asks impatient "you need me to pretend i want you for a minute? another girl you like?"

you're a little monster, appearing on her game with her jersey, glossy lips and big eyes.

"no," you simply reply, looking at the empty rink now — "i was just making sure there's no one around. i don't want you to think this is not real anymore."

real. everything's so real.

ah. violet vanderson would most definitely rot in love.

[salad-juice-enjoyer]

[redhoodsdeer]

on wheels (tired!reader x mechanic jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: where the reader's car decides to mess it up on the worst day possible, fortunately the mechanic jason was quite willing to help.

a/n: i finally posted again, and tbh, i didn't really like this one, but i have a thing for mechanic jason that just can't be put into words, i hope you guys love this as much as i love mechanic jason.

It was 10pm on what seemed like the most stressful day of your entire life, everything you wanted was to get home and take a shower long enough for your neighbors to think you were dead, but since this was definitely the worst day of the year, of course you couldn't, and of course your car broke down on a dark Gotham street at 10pm.

Every little thing that could go wrong today, did. Your ran out of coffee and you were way too late to stop by a coffee shop, your work clothes that you were supposed to pick up at the dry cleaners yesterday? still stuck there, your important meeting with your boss? the biggest disaster of your whole career.

All you wanted to do was curl up in an fetal position and cry on the floor until this day became a really distant memory, but instead, you were calling the tow truck at 10pm on a terribly suspicious street in Gotham.

After what seemed like hours of no one answering your calls, you finally got an answer and arrived at the garage, which seemed to be the only 24-hour garage in town, and you were infinitely grateful for that.

Okay, now, you were expecting a mechanic twice your father's age, on a dirty white tank top and a beer belly, you didn't expect that at ten o'clock at night on the day that seemed endless, you would come face to face with a greek god who had escaped from Olympus.

Biceps so big they could break you in two (and you kinda wished they did), the most angelic face you've ever seen, not to mention the white streak in his hair, because of course your mechanic had to be absolutely divine, on the day you were absolutely mundane, your tight skirt stained with coffee (which wasn't even yours!), your face as tired as a construction worker's on the end of the day, and your makeup had abandoned you three disasters ago.

"Ma'am, so what's the deal with the big guy here?" he asks, his voice so deep you thought you might melt. Your voice barely came out, your eyes struggling to stay on the car between you two.

"I don't know, I was on my way home when it broke down, I have no idea what happened, my dad was the one who used to take my car to the mechanic."

And of course the perfect day for you to get used to going to the mechanic by yourself was the same day you tripped in a mud puddle on your way to work and had to walk three blocks back just to take a shower.

He stares at you like you're from another world, before shaking his head and lifting the hood of the car, looking for whatever was wrong with your car.

Your eyes followed every move of his methodically, as if, if you looked away he would disappear and be replaced by a regular mechanic with a beer belly and a bad attitude.

And when he took his grease-stained hands off the hood of the car and turned his blue-gray eyes to you, you felt like you might faint.

"Lucky for you, it's nothing really bad, you've just been a while without an oil change and it's easy to fix." The raspy voice echoes through the shop and you feel your heart beat faster as you slowly nod your head to show that you understood.

"And how much will this cost?" Your voice asks, politely, already searching through your bag for your wallet, which was a bright pink, because you simply felt like everything around you was black, white and gray, and you wanted to have something colorful to remind you of the existence of colors.

As he walked around the workshop, just before he put his grease-stained hands on the hood to open it and change the oil, he gave a little laugh that could have been mistaken for a smirk, and coming from that man, you felt like you needed to lean on something to keep your composure, more specifically, him.

He finished and closed the hood of your car, wiping his hands on a cloth that was lying on a shelf, it might have just been because it was him doing it, but every movement he made sent a wave of heat over you, because everything looked so fucking hot.

But before you could even find your card inside the colorful wallet, a smirk appeared on the man's face, who was now leaning against the side of your car, looking as attractive as humanly possible.

"Chill, it's just some oil change, it's already 11pm on a Tuesday night, you look exhausted, it's on the house, maybe that way you'll become a regular customer" His voice teases and you swear you just felt your heart entangle with your lungs.

There was no way this divinity in human form was flirting with you, of all people, you, at your worst, you were sure your hair that you had delicately styled the night before had given up a long time ago, and you swore you looked as much of a disaster as you could.

But still, there he was, openly flirting with you. "In the face of such an irresistible proposal, maybe my car will break down more often around here, who knows, maybe I'll forget to change the oil again." You shrug, putting your wallet back at your purse and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you smiled at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he tossed your car keys back to you. “Maybe you should get my number in case you need help and you’re too far from the shop.” He shrugged, just before writing his number on a worn-sided post-it note that was stuck to the counter and handing it to you.

Your hands touched for least than half a second, and as cheesy as it may sound, you swear you felt an electric wave run through your body the moment your hands touched.

And right there, on the scribbled paper, was 'Jason' written in a sloppy handwriting that made you smile to yourself as you read it.

"Jason, huh?" You ask, looking up from the small note. He just shrugs, a silly smile on his face.

"You'll have to call to find out."

As you drove out of the garage, driving your now, not-quite-broken car, with a smile so big they might think you were leaving a casino after winning a jackpot, finally get to you that this interaction had actually happened, and that the neatly folded post-it note inside your pink wallet really had the number of the hottest guy you had ever seen.

And now, you were hopefuly waiting for your car to break down, willing to even crash into a tree if it would make him appear faster.

It turns out, in the end, your day wasn't so bad after all.

[the-uncanny-dag]

Leftist Thug Thursday

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Stress Relief (Sex) With ProHero Shoto | One Shot

Summary: You come home from work in a bad mood and your Pro Hero boyfriend thinks a good fuck will help you relieve some stress. Shoto is as straight forward and sexy as ever, and you love him for it.

Important Notes/TW: All characters are A21+, Shoto is a Pro Hero, Shoto x Reader are in a long term relationship, penetrative sex, MDNI, This is an adult only blog posting mature content

At 6 o'clock on the dot you storm into the apartment in a work-induced rage. You toss your bag to the ground and manhandle your jacket off of your body with the angst of a thousand fiery suns. When you finally shut the door you throw back your head and let out a guttural "ughhhhh!"

Shoto watches you from the couch, unblinking as he dips his hand into a Tupperware of roasted chickpeas you cooked for him the day before. He worked all of last night so he's currently lounging in comfy clothes watching some nature documentary. His hands are bandaged up and healing from a particularly tough battle so he's been granted a few days off to recover and catch up on paperwork.

"Shoto you won't believe what my boss said to me today. Corporate work is so fucking frustrating." You pull at your hair and stamp around the apartment - tossing your keys on the kitchen table with a clatter. You open the fridge, look inside, slam it shut. You're just so damn wound up you can't even figure out what to do with yourself. You turn around to march towards the bathroom - maybe a calming hot shower is just the thing you need to switch off this abhorrent mood. You turn on your heel and walk right into Shoto's strong chest.

Sneaky bastard - he moves so quietly sometimes, like a sly cat. For the umpteenth time you make a mental note to put a bell on him.

Shoto reaches down to rest his bandaged hands lightly on your shoulders. He stares down at you with that intense gaze of his, mouth in a hard line.

"I know what you need." He says seriously, gaze flickering briefly down to your lips and back to your eyes.

Your foul mood simmers. You can't help but be a little bitchy to your sweet boyfriend. "And what the fuck do I need, Sho?" You give him a hard look, but he remains unfazed.

"You need a good fuck." He says, completely serious. No hint of sarcasm or teasing can be found.

Your eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever you get this frustrated with work or your friends or politics, sex always seems to make you feel better. It mellows you out. Would you like me to fuck you? I have some free time right now since I'm off from work." He looks down at his hands pointedly. They flex around your shoulders and the bandages rustle. "I probably shouldn't use my hands much, though. So I can't do that thing you like."

You look up at Shoto, stunned. You've been together for years and sometimes you forget how unnervingly straight forward he can be.

You suck in a deep breath, the tension in your body already melting away as you recall how good Shoto feels inside of you. Your pussy crackles to life - all of a sudden your clit is practically begging for attention.

"Yeah, Sho. Fuck me?" You look up at him with glimmering eyes and he doesn't need telling twice. He slides his hands from your shoulders and bends down so he can carefully haul you up into his arms. You let out a laugh as you feel his thick biceps flex around you. You can almost guarantee that seeing Shoto naked will cure all of your troubles. He carries you off towards the bedroom and you can already feel him hard and ready in his sweatpants.

"I missed you today." He says as he tosses you lightly onto the bed. You bounce as you hit the mattress and it rips another giggle from your tense body.

"I missed you last night. I hate when you get into fights." You look up at him with big eyes, recalling earlier this morning when you saw him return home all bloody and bruised.

"I know. I'm sorry." Shoto say softly, leaning down to place a kiss on your temple. You close your eyes at the delicate contact of his lips against your skin, feeling the warmth of the kiss spread through your body like the glow of a bonfire. "I try to be careful. I know you worry."

When your eyes flutter open, you take in the way that Shoto stands over you posessively, all tall ProHero bulk. He peels off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles and hard-earned battle scars. He unceremoniously steps out of his shorts and underwear, his cock rock hard and glistening with precum.

You wriggle out of your own clothes as he stares you down with those beautiful mismatched eyes. He takes his dick in his hand and pumps, moaning openly as he starts to jerk himself off while staring at your breasts. God, you love his cock. It's the perfect length for you - 6 inches long with some weight to it, leaning slightly towards the left. You love that you're the only person on Earth who knows how his hard cock looks.

Shoto leans forward over you to grab a pillow, placing it under your butt so you'll be more comfortable. His movements are delicate - you ache as you realize that his hands must really be hurting beneath all of those bandages. You reach for one of them, bringing the bandaged material to your lips for a gentle kiss. He looks at you with such fondness you feel that your heart might melt.

"Thanks, love."

You open your legs for him and lay back on the bed, all thoughts of work temporarily forgotten as he slides himself against your entrance slowly. You both shudder at the contact - your pussy is slippery and wet and ready to be filled with his pulsing cock. He takes things slow, enjoying the way your body slides and stretches around him as he pushes into you. You let out a moan as Shoto fills you with his cock, all frustration has vanished. All you can do is focus on the feel of Shoto and his goddamn perfect dick inside of you.

When Shoto's almost all the way inside, he pauses to look down at you through light lashes. "I'm glad you were up for this." He says softly, thrusting forward lightly to bottom out inside of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside of you that no one else has ever come close to touching.

"I can definitely use some stress release, too."

[totalswag]

unexpected surprise ⎯⎯ chapter one!

authors note first chapter of my series omg!

summary in which you're cautious when Drew Starkey sneaks into your DMs following a casual encounter at a party. he is well-known for his role in a popular tv show and movies—has millions of fans. the two of you start communicating quietly, slipping minutes between his hectic schedule and your social media responsibilities. the secrecy adds to the excitement, but as the media learns about your link, it becomes increasingly difficult to hide.

series taglist

You are well-known in the social media world. You've been given the opportunity to build close relationships with your supporters—to develop a family and be yourself. Features everything from trip vlogs to fashion hauls, insightful conversations, and humorous content. Your work has built up a big following, with which businesses compete to cooperate. However, you value privacy and provide just the most basic information to your supporters.

Eight o'clock rolls around. Stella gets to your apartment dressed and ready for the night. Before heading out, you both walked to the kitchen to get your pre-game drinks made. Music playing from your speaker sitting on the table in the living room⎯keeping the energy high. 

Tonight you are wearing a jeans with a black tank top with a red heart in the middle along with a cute jacket. Hair and makeup was a little different for the night. Of course, you needed your earrings and twi necklaces. You felt good about yourself.

"No joke, I've been rummaging through my closet for a good outfit," you say as you place the cups down. "I'm not sure why I'm having this strange feeling, but," pause, "who knows what it is about," shaking your head.

"Maybe you'll find your future lover?" she exclaimed dramatically, twisting the cap of the tequila bottle. She put the shots into two tiny glasses. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she mocked, offering you a shot.

"How can I refuse" you say, smirking and clinking your glasses together.

Stella has been your best friend for seven years, and you are forever grateful to her. She's the type of friend that would drop everything in a moment to be with you and ensure you have a nice time. Her quirky characteristics will make you giggle until your abs hurt.

The drive to the party took twenty minutes. By the time Stella and you get to the neighborhood gate and are let inside, she has taken a few turns and there are several cars parked on the side. Fortunately, Stella found the right spot near the house.

The house was already alive with energy⎯music blared through the air, and groups of people huddled around in conversation, drinks in hand. Stella and you strolled through the crowd of people, her enthusiasm clear. "There they are!" She waved to a small gathering near the kitchen.

One of the girls in the group, carrying a drink, looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up with a smile as she noticed you both going over. "Oh my gosh, so glad you could make it!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, “I’m Leah and this is Jake.”

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N, and thank you for inviting us," you say politely, shaking each of their hands in a soft gesture. 

As the night continued on, you and Stella stayed by each other. Got the chance to introduce yourselves to new faces around the party and strike conversations. Saw a few familiar faces you’ve worked with before too. Leah and Jake were extremely amazing, keeping you laughing non-stop with their jokes.

And then he walked in.

Drew Starkey.

You spotted him right away⎯tall, effortlessly calm, and commanding without trying. He was deep in conversation with a few people before making his way to where you stood, drink in hand. You weren’t expecting him to actually walk up to you either. 

Before you could blink, he’s standing in front of you, “hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, I’m Drew” putting his hand out, smiling softly.

Drew Starkey is talking to me? You think to yourself.

“Y/N,” you carefully say, maintaining eye contact.

Conversation begins between you two. It felt so usual for you, and you didn't feel nervous at all⎯you felt serene, as you put it. The way he focused his attention on you and not anybody else made your tummy flutter⎯as if you two were the only ones in the room. Drew was easy to talk to.

Something about the way his eyes lingered suggested he was intrigued. The conversation between you two was comfortable and natural—even when people walked around the party, he remained, inquiring about what you did and why you came here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?” he carefully asks⎯it was obvious he didn’t want to go overboard.

Chuckling softly, running your hands through your hair, “I guess you could say I’m in the entertainment industry” you playfully hint, grinning. 

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, tilting his head back, “looks like I’m gonna have to find out another time then?” he asks with confidence⎯you like it.

Before he left your side, he pulled out his phone. “What’s your Instagram?”

You told him, watching as he followed you without hesitation. “Guess I have some catching up to do.”

Later that night, when you got back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a notification. Stella's eyes nearly fell out their sockets when she glanced at your screen.

drewstarkey followed you.

drewstarkey sent you a message.

This was going to be interesting.

"Shut the fuck up" you both gasped.

series taglist

@akobx @ethanthequeefqueen

[yuujispunches]

Six o'clock sharp ~ N.K.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: Gojo somehow manages to get Nanami drunk and you know it’s bad when your favourite salary man sends you an SOS but you expected chaos but not a confession.

CW (content warning): drunk Nanami, Gojo causing chaos, drunk confession, nothing else really this is mainly fluff and chaos.

AN: Hi guys! Take this as an apology for my other Nanami works, no more angst just fluffy and drunk Nanami, your welcome 😌 As always a reminder that English isn’t my first language and I’m typing this in my phone so I’m sorry if there’re any typos/mistakes. Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of characters I write for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

You’re halfway through brushing your teeth when your phone buzzes on the sink.

You glance at the screen, expecting a spam call or maybe Ijichi politely reminding you about a mission change. But it’s neither. It’s Nanami.

At 11:52 PM.

You freeze, foamy toothpaste threatening to escape from your mouth. Nanami Kento does not call people at 11:52 PM. Nanami Kento does not even acknowledge the existence of 11:52 PM. His world ends strictly at six o'clock.

You spit out the toothpaste and wipe your mouth before answering. “Nanami?”

There’s a pause, and then a suspiciously groggy voice murmurs. “Ah. You answered.”

You blink utterly confused. “Are you okay?”

He sighs. “Not particularly.”

“Are you hurt? Where are you? Do I need to-” You fired questions quickly, clearly worried about him.

“I’m at a bar.” He says, a little too proudly, as if it’s the most rebellious thing he’s ever done. “They made me come.”

You can hear the muffled sound of someone yelling in the background, definitely Gojo’s voice, loud and obnoxious, followed by Shoko’s unmistakable laugh.

“Oh no.” You whisper as realisation downs on you. “They got you.”

“They did.” He replies, mournful. “Shoko threatened me with a sedative.”

You wince. “That… tracks.”

“I’ve had… alcohol.” Nanami announces, like he’s confessing a grave sin to a priest.

“Clearly.” You’re trying to stifle your laugh at this point.

“You should come get me.”

Your eyebrows raise. “You want me to come get you?”

“I don’t trust Gojo.”

“Valid.”

“But I do trust you.” He adds quietly. Then, as if embarrassed by his own words, he mumbles something incoherent. “Anyway. I’m at that place with the weird squid logo. I don’t like it.”

“You went to Drunken Cephalopod? That’s where Shoko took you?! That place has drinks named things like ‘Cephalopod Squeeze’ and ‘Invertebrate Hangover.’”

“They made me drink something called ‘Tentacle Passion.’”

“Do I need to call an exorcist?”

He doesn’t answer. Just groans and you can clearly hear Gojo in the background yelling. “KENNNTOOOOO’S GETTING SOFT.”

You sigh. “Okay, I’m coming.”

“You’re… nice.” He says, and then promptly hangs up.

——————————————————————————

You arrive twenty minutes later to find the bar exactly as you imagined it: a chaotic mess of off-duty sorcerers, the smell of deep-fried food, and someone loudly trying to argue that cursed spirits are “just misunderstood.”

Nanami is slouched in a corner booth, tie loose, hair slightly ruffled, and a pink blush across his cheeks. He looks like someone who’s spent the last hour in a low-level existential crisis and only survived because someone shoved a cocktail into his hand every fifteen minutes. Which was probably what happened.

“Hi.” You say, approaching carefully, like he’s a wounded animal that might bolt.

Nanami lifts his head slowly. His eyes light up when he sees you. “You came.”

“Of course I came. You sounded like someone drugged you with sake and made you watch Gojo do karaoke.”

“He did do karaoke.” Nanami mutters darkly, as if he was reminiscing on something deeply traumatic. “It was Bon Jovi.”

“Oh god.”

“He pointed at me during the ‘shot through the heart’ part.”

You try not to laugh, but it escapes in a snort. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Before he can move, Gojo suddenly appears, sliding into the booth beside Nanami like an overly caffeinated gremlin. “Heyyyy, look who showed up! You’re here for your emotionally constipated work husband?”

“I’m here to rescue your victim, yes.”

Nanami frowns. “I am not emotionally constipated.”

Shoko appears next, holding what looks like her sixth beer. “He kind of is. But it’s endearing.”

You tug on Nanami’s arm. “Let’s go before they start singing again.”

He doesn’t resist. In fact, he leans on you.

Heavily.

“Oh wow.” You mutter, bracing yourself as you rey yo Keep your balance and prevent Nanami from face planting into the floor. “You’re not even a little sober, are you?”

“I'm fine.” He insists, voice muffled against your shoulder, sounding almost offended before his voice softens again. “You smell nice.”

You freeze.

Behind you, Gojo cackles. “Oh this is gold. Someone record this.”

“You’re drunk.” You mutter, steering Nanami toward the exit.

“Yes.” He agrees solemnly. “But not hallucinating. You really do smell good.”

You glance back, and Shoko gives you two thumbs up before pretending to puke into her beer.

——————————————————————————

Once you get him to your car and buckle him in like a fussy toddler, Nanami slumps into the seat with a sigh.

“This is undignified.” He grumbles.

“You called me for help, besides you lost the right to dignity when you drank something called ‘Tentacle Passion.’”

He winces. “It was fruity.”

“I don’t want to know.”

There’s a long pause as you start the car. Then, softly, he says. “I’m glad it was you.”

You glance at him. “Huh?”

“I didn’t want anyone else to come.”

The words are quieter than before, as if he’s falling asleep mid-sentence. But there’s something tender in his tone, something that tugs at your chest in an unfamiliar way.

You say nothing. Just drive, trying to convince yourself that it was just the forbidden fruity drink talking. That didn’t stop your heart from hammering inside your chest though.

——————————————————————————

You manage to get Nanami into your apartment with only minor difficulties, mostly involving him insisting on taking off his shoes “properly” then forgetting halfway through and staring at them like they’ve wronged him.

He’s sitting on your couch now, tie undone, hair floppier than usual, brows furrowed in sleepy confusion as he examines the decorative pillow in his lap like it’s a cursed object.

“You’re going to feel so gross tomorrow.” You say partly amused, bringing him a glass of water.

“Don’t remind me.”

You hand him the glass. He takes it like it’s a sacred offering, cradles it in both hands, and blinks up at you with a grateful expression that makes your heart do something unprofessional.

He doesn’t drink it. He just holds it.

“You know…” He says slowly. “You have a very… soothing apartment.”

You raise an eyebrow. “It’s got two pieces of IKEA furniture and a plant that’s currently dying.”

“Yes. Peaceful.” He leans his head back against the couch cushion. “Like a cave, but cleaner.”

“You think that’s a compliment?”

“For me? Yes.”

You sit on the edge of the coffee table, watching him. He’s flushed, his posture is loose, too loose for his usual mannerisms, and his usual precise speech has softened around the edges. The Nanami Kento you know is meticulous, almost severe in his discipline. This version? This version is warm and slouchy and entirely too affectionate for your emotional wellbeing.

“I should’ve taken a video for blackmail.” You muse aloud.

He groans. “Please don’t. Gojo would make it a ringtone.”

There’s a beat of silence before he adds, voice a little quieter. “He said I needed to ‘lighten up.’”

You snort. “So their plan was to get you smashed and emotionally compromised?”

“Apparently.” He shifts, letting the pillow slide off his lap and onto the floor. “It’s exhausting. This… all of it. Sorcerer life. Constant death. Even Shoko, who jokes all the time, has seen more than anyone should.”

You blink. That was… heavier than expected.

You ease into a seat beside him. “You okay?”

He exhales slowly, shoulders sinking. “I don’t know. Maybe. Just… tired. I think I’m always tired.”

You glance over at him. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes long, the curve of his mouth soft in a way it rarely is when he’s sober. He doesn’t look tired. He looks... open. Vulnerable. Like a wall’s come down you never realized he kept so high.

“I don’t blame you.” You say gently. “It’s a lot. And you carry too much of it alone.”

He turns to look at you, slow and deliberate. Then, all of a sudden, he frowns.

“You’re always kind to me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes-No. I… I don’t know but it’s… dangerous.”

You blink. “I- what?”

“You’re dangerous.” He says again, more stubbornly, as if what he was saying made all the sense in the world. “Because when you’re kind, I think I might start hoping. And that’s worse than cursed spirits.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

Then, abruptly, he slumps forward and his forehead lands directly on your shoulder with a solid thump.

“Nanami-!”

“I am… resting.” He mumbles.

“You’re using me as a pillow.”

“You’re an excellent pillow.”

“You’re going to regret everything you’re saying tomorrow.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzles into your shoulder. “I regret nothing.”

Your heart is trying very hard to climb into your throat.

You let him stay there, because he’s warm and clearly too drunk to move. Also because you’re a little afraid that if you shift, he’ll say something else like “you smell like hope” or “I’d die for you” and your central nervous system will just shut down.

But instead, he sighs. “Why are you always the one I want to call?”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“You’re my first thought.” He says simply. “Whenever something happens. Good or bad.”

You don’t move. You doubt you were even breathing at that point.

“I don’t think I realized how deep it went until tonight.” He adds. “Until I was drunk and stupid and wanted to be near you more than anything.”

You’re 90% sure this is a hallucination. Or a genjutsu. Wrong franchise, but still.

Then he says something, very softly. “I like you. Too much.”

Your brain blue-screens.

You sit frozen on the couch, Nanami half-asleep on your shoulder, blissfully unaware that he just casually tore open your ribcage and planted a bomb where your heart used to be.

Did he really just say he likes you? Too much? You think as you turn your head slightly to look at him.

He’s completely relaxed now. Eyes closed, lips parted slightly in sleep, his breath slow and warm against your collarbone. He’s practically draped over you, and if it were anyone else, you’d be tempted to shove them off. But it’s him. And the truth is, you don’t want to move.

You also don’t want to believe any of this.

Because if it’s the alcohol talking… if he wakes up tomorrow and doesn’t remember, or worse, regrets it…

Well. That would hurt more than any curse ever could.

Still, there’s something oddly comforting about this moment. Like the world has paused for just a second and let you peek behind the curtain of Nanami Kento. The real one. Not the stoic salaryman exorcist, but the man underneath, tired and careful and too full of feelings he doesn’t know how to carry.

You gently brush a bit of hair from his forehead and whisper. “I like you too, you idiot.”

Of course, he chooses that exact moment to mutter, “You’re warm. Don’t move.”

You laugh under your breath. “You’re basically a weighted blanket. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.”

——————————————————————————

When morning comes, Nanami wakes up with the intensity of a man realizing he's made several poor life choices the night before.

He sits bolt upright on your couch, disheveled and groggy, blinking at the glass of water on the table and the blanket draped over his lap like they’ve appeared via cursed technique.

You’re in the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and making coffee like it’s just another Tuesday, which it is. Except for the part where Nanami confessed to having disturbingly tender feelings for you while wine-drenched and emotionally compromised.

“Oh no.” He says out loud, mortified.

“Morning.” You chirp, entirely too casual.

He squints at you. “How drunk was I?”

You hand him a mug of coffee. “You told me I smell like hope.”

He lets out a strangled noise.

“You also used me as a human pillow.”

“I see.”

“And confessed to liking me.”

His eyes widen behind his glasses.

You sip your own coffee. “Too much, I believe were your words.”

Nanami stares into his cup like it might contain the answers to life, the universe, and how to rewind time.

“I see.” He repeats.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want to take it back?”

There’s a long pause. So long you start to feel nervous.

Then, he speaks quietly, but clearly. “No. I don’t.”

Your breath catches.

“I meant what I said.” He continues, setting the mug down. “I like you. Not just in the soft, platonic way. In the ‘I think about you too much and care about you more than is reasonable’ way.”

You blink. “That’s… a lot of words for someone hungover.”

“I have regrets.” He says. “But not about you. Just about the whole karaoke thing.”

You laugh. He looks at you like it’s his favorite sound in the world.

“I was planning on saying something eventually.” He admits. “I just didn’t expect it to be slurred and with Gojo being partially involved in it.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You say with mock cheer. “He’s already texted me three times this morning with quotes. And memes.”

Nanami makes a noise of utter despair.

“He called you ‘Simpnami.’”

Another groan.

You move to sit beside him on the couch again. This time, you’re both a little more aware of how close you are and neither of you pulls away.

“You know…” You trail off softly, “for a guy who’s always talking about professionalism, you’re surprisingly good at romantic declarations.”

He gives you a sideways look. “That was not a romantic declaration.”

“It kind of was.”

“I called you a pillow.”

“An excellent pillow.” You point out as if it made all the difference.

He huffs. “Please never repeat that.”

You grin, and before you can overthink it, you lean in and kiss him.

It’s soft. Gentle. Just a press of lips, like a question.

He answers by cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin, and deepening it ever so slightly, still tender, still careful, like he’s learning the shape of this new thing between you with reverent hands.

When you pull back, his expression is a little dazed.

“You’re even better at that than declarations.” You murmur.

He clears his throat. “Noted.”

——————————————————————————

Back at the school, Gojo is waiting with a smug grin and a T-shirt that says “Team Nanami’s Hot Mess Era” in neon bubble letters.

Shoko claps slow and sarcastic when she sees you both walk in together.

Nanami looks like he’s calculating how many crimes he’d need to commit to flee the country.

“You two are glowing.” Gojo says way too enthusiastically, the grin on his face matching that of an absolute sociopath.

“Drop it.” Nanami warns.

“Oh, I’d never.” Gojo wiggles his eyebrows. “I just think it’s cute that you finally got a life outside your nine-to-six martyr complex.”

Nanami sighs. You press a hand to his back, stifling your laughter.

“Don’t worry.” You whisper. “You’re still terrifying. Just… slightly emotionally available now.”

“Wonderful.” He mutters.

But his hand brushes yours on the way out, a subtle gesture meant just for you. And even with Gojo singing “Shot Through the Heart” again in the background, everything suddenly feels lighter.

Like maybe six o’clock sharp doesn’t have to be the end of his day anymore. Maybe, with you, it can be the beginning of something better.

——————————————————————————

Nanami doesn’t kiss you again until four days later. Not because he doesn’t want to. In fact, he very clearly does. You catch him looking at you often now, eyes lingering a little too long, lips twitching like they want to say something meaningful but the moment passes before he lets them.

No, the delay isn’t about doubt. It’s about precision. Nanami doesn’t do things impulsively. Even when he’s accidentally confessing under the influence of a drink named after sea creatures, he somehow makes it poetic. That’s just who he is.

So when he shows up at your door after work on Friday , six o’clock sharp, of course, with a bouquet of shockingly tasteful flowers and a bottle of wine he swears is not from the Drunken Cephalopod, you know something’s up.

“You’re either here to propose or kill me.” You joke as you let him in.

“Neither.” He says. “Though I do appreciate your morbid sense of humor.”

He sets the flowers down on your kitchen counter and gives you a look that could melt steel.

“I’m here” He says. “to properly ask you on a date. A sober, intentional, well-planned date. With no cursed cocktails, and absolutely no Gojo.”

“That last part is crucial.”

“I thought so.”

You lean against the counter, smiling. “Okay, Mr. Intentional. Where would this theoretical date take place?”

He actually pulls out a folded list from his jacket pocket. “I did some research.”

You laugh. “Of course you did.”

“According to my sources, a café with low ambient noise and limited foot traffic would be ideal for uninterrupted conversation. Also, they serve excellent pastries.”

“Let me guess. Your source was Shoko?”

He hesitates. “Tengen, actually.”

You pause. “Tengen?”

“I didn’t ask directly. I asked Ijichi, who asked someone else, who apparently-”

“You crowdsourced our date venue.”

“It was efficient.”

You want to tease him. Really, you do. But the earnestness in his face makes your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Okay.” You say. “Pastries and low ambient noise sound perfect.”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for four days. “Good.”

——————————————————————————

The date is, of course, perfect.

He’s polite and charming and still slightly awkward in a way that’s so deeply Nanami it makes you want to pinch his cheeks and ruin his whole stoic aesthetic.

At one point, you catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, a soft, rare smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” You ask, trying not to blush.

“I’m wondering if I get to do this more than once.”

You pretend to think. “Hmm… I guess that depends on whether you ever let me pick the venue.”

“Absolutely not. Gojo might sabotage it.”

“True.”

He sets his cup down and leans in slightly. “I wasn’t exaggerating the other night. I really do think about you too much.”

Your heart stutters.

“I think that’s allowed now.” You whisper.

He nods. “Good. Because I don’t want to stop.”

——————————————————————————

By the following week, it’s an open secret.

Utahime just smiles knowingly when she sees you both arrive to a mission together. Shoko pretends to be scandalized, but hands Nanami a pack of gum with a smirk and speaks. “For when you start making out behind convenience stores like teenagers.”

Gojo is the worst.

“Hey, lovebirds!” He yells across the courtyard one day. “Need me to officiate yet? I already picked out my robe!”

Nanami doesn’t respond. He just grabs your hand and walks away like he didn’t hear anything. You follow without protest.

“You know…” You say after a beat. “he’s not going to stop.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to be so much worse when we move in together.”

Nanami stops walking.

You freeze. “I mean-! Hypothetically! Someday! In the distant, really distant-”

He squeezes your hand. “I’d like that.”

You blink.

He looks at you with that same warm, unreadable expression he wears when evaluating cursed spirits. Except he is softer, gentler. “When the time is right.”

You try not to beam like an idiot. Fail spectacularly.

——————————————————————————

A few days later, after a long mission and a longer nap at his place, you find yourself in his bed, tangled up in sheets and warmth and the quiet comfort of someone who finally lets himself rest when you’re near.

“You know what’s weird?” You murmur into his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“This all started because you got drunk.”

He chuckles low in his chest. “I was emotionally ambushed.”

“By alcohol?”

“By Gojo, which is worse.”

You hum in agreement.

“But I was lucky.” He adds after a moment.

“Because you didn’t end up vomiting on my couch?”

“No.” He tilts his head, brushes his lips against your forehead. “Because you came.”

You press your face into his chest, smiling like a fool. “Of course I did.”

“And you stayed.”

“You made that part pretty easy.”

He pulls you closer. “I should get drunk more often.”

You snort. “Don’t you dare.”

He laughs again, soft and fond, and the sound settles deep in your chest like a secret only you get to keep.

You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and warm beneath your cheek, and think that maybe six o’clock sharp isn’t the end of the day after all. Maybe it’s the beginning of home.

Tags: @pickledsoda @noooo-onee @hawkwithsocks

Taglist is open so if you want to be added for future works let me know! :)

[calebs-court-jester]

if a friendship lasts longer than 7 years...

Psychologists say it will likely endure for a LIFETIME.

featuring: caleb x mc x tired!zayne

zayne's had enough of your teasing. Time to give you both a taste of your own medicine!

If Zayne could go back in time and un-meet you two, he would. Unfortunately, scientists have yet to invent a time machine, but if he wakes up and finds the two of you eating breakfast at his dining table uninvited one more damn time, he might just do it himself.

This nightmare began at the age of 8, when the two kids from down the street began toddling after him with their short legs. This marked the first time polite and well-mannered Zayne learned to speed-walk and pivot around corners with the intention of losing someone.

This also marked the first time his mother scolded him, telling him that he should play nicely with Josephine's children. Despite being appalled and flabbergasted, he listened.

Shortly after, he began to hold onto the hope that he still might be able to get rid of you two one day.

It was not until last night, on the eve of his 28th birthday, that he'd jolted up in cold sweat in the middle of the night to the realization that nothing short of an asteroid crashing directly into him would get you two off his back now.

Deeply disturbed, he eventually fell back into a restless slumber. Not enough time later, he was proven correct when he was jump-scared by the two of you standing in his bedroom at ass o'clock in the morning, monologuing loudly about how he'd successfully made another trip around the sun.

How did you two even get a key?! "A key?" You had scoffed in his face. "It was up Caleb's ass all along."

"Obviously." Caleb had nodded along with the seriousness of a man testifying in court.

"Do not even start with me." He'd grumbled. It was not even 8 in the morning yet and already, he could feel tension gathering in his temples - the beginnings of a stupid migraine that only seemed to appear whenever the two of you did.

Once he'd devoured the slice of cake you had bought him (it was delicious) and then shoved you both out, he'd hidden himself in his bathroom and sent an angry 15-minute voice message to his mother, detailing her fatal mistake in convincing him to play nicely with Josephine's devilish children all those years ago.

Half a day later, he received a voice message in reply. It consisted of 5 whole minutes of his mother laughing so hard that she could not breathe.

Nevertheless, despite his grievances about this friendship (as he reluctantly calls it), Zayne does not have many other friends outside of his colleagues at work. He may send an occasional text message to Yvonne or Dr. Grayson, but in the end, he finds himself defaulting to the poorly named group chat between the three of you when he needs someone to accompany him to the new cafe that had just opened up in downtown Linkon.

zayne's side chicks

zayne: there is a new dessert place downtown.

colonel kfc: and??

He huffs, glaring down at his phone. He can hear the phantom sound of Caleb snickering on the other end. If he composes his next text with more thumb force than necessary, that's nobody's business but his own.

zayne: accompany me there.

booty hunter: what do we say when we ask someone for a favour? 😇😇

colonel kfc: it starts with a P

Zayne tosses his entire phone across the room. It bounces off his mattress pathetically. He picks it back up two minutes later when his sugar craving hits and angrily types out his response.

zayne: please.

If that asteroid could hit him right about now, that would be absolutely terrific.

He pauses in thought.

Even if an asteroid was approaching Linkon, Caleb is a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet now. He would probably find a way to intercept it so he could continue bothering him for the rest of his life.

His migraine intensifies.

Against his best wishes, he is somehow coerced into picking you up from your home, and then Caleb from the train station - both of which are in the opposite direction of the new cafe.

He's wasting precious gas money for this.

"Stingy," You'd teased him from the passenger seat before poking him in the shoulder.

"Call me that one more time and you can walk to the cafe," He'd bit back instinctually before he even had time to think about what he was saying.

But you were not even fazed in the slightest, throwing your head in laughter and then singing back in an annoying voice, "But you neeeeeeed me!"

When he truly thinks about it, his car's passenger seat and the backrow have never been occupied by anyone else over the years other than the two of you. As Caleb once joked, his seats likely had the imprints of your backsides ingrained into the leather.

The cafe is a whopping 35-minute drive away from the train station. It is so out-of-the-way, in fact, that he passes by his home that he'd initially left to go pick up the two of you. On the way, he is forced against his will to listen to you and Caleb duet several High School Musical songs.

In the end, as the menu full of sugary pastries and tarts stares back at him, he supposes the drive had been worth it.

He's about halfway through devouring a matcha strawberry shortcake slice, and then an ube mochi tart, and then a lemon berry parfait when he realizes that he hadn't actually ordered any of it aside from the cake slice.

He jolts in sudden realization, his fork nearly falling from his grasp. An identical feeling to when he'd jolted awake the other night with the horrific realization that the two of you were here to stay for life, manifests in his chest.

Above the rim of the parfait glass, yours and Caleb's eyes meet his own with twin looks of mischievous amusement, as if you two had been watching him eat for quite some time now.

"That's my parfait," You complain loudly, as if on cue. Despite your unforgiving tone, there's a teasing smirk on your lips. Your head is leaning against Caleb's broad shoulder. To Zayne, you look like the embodiment of the devil on his shoulder. "But since I love you so much, I guess you can have it."

Zayne can feel his eye twitch involuntarily.

"How's my ube mochi tart? Good?" Caleb follows behind you without missing a beat. Compared to how he was just a few short years ago, he's much taller now, and broader around the shoulders than Zayne could ever hope to be. "I was looking forward to trying it, but you took a bite out of it before I could even take a picture."

Zayne knows exactly what the two of you are doing.

You continue, "As payment for stealing our desserts-"

"Dinner will be on Caleb tonight." He interjects savagely. "I want the French restaurant near my home. With dessert to go."

Your mouth hangs open from your unfinished sentence, like a fish out of water. Next to you, Caleb's eyebrows have disappeared into his hairline.

Not waiting for either of you, Zayne polishes off the rest of the parfait in one go and then stands to gather his things. "Well? Isn't this my birthday treat? Go pay and we'll get going. Your salary as a Colonel is enough to cover the bill, isn't it?"

He turns abruptly to you next and without warning, tosses the keys to his car right into your fumbling hands. "You're driving. I expect that you were prepared enough to have brought your license."

He doesn't wait for either of you as he sweeps out of the cafe. As soon as the door closes behind him, leaving you both scrambling to catch up, a rush of childish giddiness spreads over him.

Is this how you both feel when you tease him to no end? Well, well, well. He hopes you two can handle the taste of your own medicine.

If he can't invent a time machine, then he may as well turn the tables.

[author-ssi]

Daddy ~KNJ

➜Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

➜Genre: Smut, (Slight) Fluff (in the beginning), One-Shot

Warnings: MAJOR Daddy kink (in case, it wasn't clear already from the title), reader is basically drooling over DILF Namjoon, age gap (Namjoon in his 30s, reader in her 20s), breast play&fingering&praise (Namjoon is an absolute service dom - don't even try to change my mind!), vaginal sex (reader rides Namjoon) [18+ MDNI]

➜Word Count: 3.7k

➜Summary: Namjoon had been searching for someone to care for his son for months and months, to no avail. Until the moment he saw you crouched on the ground, helping his son tie his shoelaces with a smile so pretty on your face. That's when he knew you'd be perfect for him... and, for his son too.

"Seungmin-ah, it's time to go to bed! Come on, sweetie".

If you were keeping count -which you were- that'd be your 5th attempt to usher the cheeky three-year-old over to his room.

"But Koya doesn't want to sleep yet... Look, he is full of energy!".

Seungmin swings the plushie around, almost hitting you in the face with it. You let out a huffed chuckle glancing at the clock on the wall.

It's almost 9 o'clock and he's the one who's full of energy...

You'd expect that after running around and playing with him all afternoon long, by the time his bedtime came, he'd be sleeping like a log.

"I'll tell you and Koya a fairytale so you both can go to sleep".

You pick him up and sit on his bed, laying him down and pulling the blanket over him.

Thankfully, he settles down, cuddling his Koya, close to him.

Taking the book of fairytales from the bed table, you flip over to the page of his favourite, Kongjwi and Patjwi.

... Or as you prefer to call it Korean Cinderella with a twist.

Seungmin claps his little hands excitedly, burying himself further inside his blanket, focusing his attention solely on your words.

Reaching out to offer him an affectionate pat on the head, you begin to recite the fairytale, smiling fondly at the thought of how much your life has changed ever since you got the job of babysitting this adorable little toddler.

~Four Months Ago~

Judging from how hard it had been for you to get an apartment in NYC, you were already prepared to face the same difficulty in finding yourself a job.

Little did you know, it'd be as easy as taking a walk in the park.

Literally!

Walking in the park, that one cloudy afternoon, was all it took for you to run into little Seungmin and his dad.

And oh, his dad...

Mr. Kim Namjoon.

A Korean-American.

CEO of a public education company.

Single father to Kim Seungmin, after his wife left him a year ago and ran off to Europe with another man.

Honestly, who in their right mind would even think about leaving this man for another?!

You still remember how in awe you were upon seeing him...

His tall frame towered over you and his son as he stood above you, clad in a black turtleneck that perfectly highlighted his muscled chest and wide shoulders.

His face bore youthful features and yet his eyes brought out a sense of wisdom and maturity.

The polite smile he wore, not only betrayed the dimple that appeared on his cheek but his refined manners too, as he offered you a hand to help you stand back up.

Looking up at his entrancing eyes, you accepted his hand and slowly rose to your feet.

"Daddy, look!".

The little toddler's voice finally enabled you to tear your gaze away from his father.

Seungmin pointed at his small feet, with a bright smile on his face.

His father furrowed his eyebrows puzzled, which rushed you to explain.

"His, uh, his shoelaces were untied and he was running around...

So I thought I'd tie them for him!

You know, so he wouldn't get hurt-"

"Thank you for doing that".

The man offered your hand a small squeeze in gratitude, before finally introducing himself.

You hadn't even noticed he was still holding your hand!

Hastily returning the handshake, you forced yourself to withdraw your hand introducing yourself as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kim".

It felt proper to address him like that, since he seemed to be quite older than you...

Mr Kim slightly cleared his throat and offered you a small nod before turning to his son.

"Why don't you tell the pretty lady who helped you, your name as well, hm?".

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip in a desperate attempt to hide how much that affected you; a man as handsome as him addressing you as pretty.

Thankfully, the cute toddler in front of you was the perfect way to get your mind off of it as he raised his hand towards you.

"Hi, I am Seungmin!".

You noticed he was offering his hand for you to shake, just like he had seen you do with his father.

"Hi, Seungmin!

It's nice to meet you, I'm Y/N".

You resisted the urge to swoon at the sight of his small hand enveloped in your own.

So cute!

"And what else do you need to say to Y/N?".

"Thank you".

You shook yourself insisting it was nothing and adjusted your back on your shoulder, mentally preparing yourself to bid farewell to the two of them.

"Let me buy you a drink, Y/N; as thanks for helping Seungmin".

Your eyes widened at Mr Kim's unexpected suggestion.

"Oh no, you don't need to do that-".

"I insist".

Well, how could you refuse when he looked at you like that?!

And so, you ended up playing with Seungmin at the playground, while Mr Kim went to get the both of you something to drink.

You were pushing Seungmin on the swings when Mr Kim returned with a hot latte in each hand, offering one for you to drink.

Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a bench with probably the most attractive man you'll ever get the chance to lay your eyes on, drinking your latte and watching over his son continuing to play at the playground.

"Thanks again for helping Seungmin out.

I was too busy talking on the phone...

I should have been keeping an eye on him but work is just-".

He groans in frustration, before letting out a long sigh and turning to you.

"Never mind that now, tell me about you".

You purse your lips in thought, rummaging through your brain in an attempt to find something about you that's interesting enough to share with someone like Mr Kim.

"I'm just a girl, trying to survive college while looking for a job".

You shrug before taking another sip of your latte.

Meanwhile, the moment those words left your mouth, Mr Kim turned to face you with a knowing smile.

"Well, that's a happy coincidence".

And that's when you were offered the job of babysitting Mr Kim's son. And even though, you truly loved looking after little Seungmin, you couldn't help being even more thrilled by the prospect of spending even just a little time around a man like Mr. Kim.

~Present Day~

"And so, the new Mayor married Kongjwi, the owner of the shoe.

Now, you'd think that they got to live happily ever after…

But that's not the end of this story!

Jealous of Kongjwi's happiness, her stepsister Patjwi drowns poor Kongjwi in the stream.

Patjwi then disguises herself as Kongjwi and starts living at the palace as the mayor’s wife.

However, one day Kongjwi appears in her husband's dream and tells him about her tragic fate.

The mayor is shocked to learn this and starts desperately searching for his wife's body.

After months and months of endlessly searching, he manages to discover Kongjwi's body in the stream.

He cries cradling his wife's body close to him before leaning over to offer her a kiss farewell.

Yet, with that kiss, Kongjwi is brought back to life.

Once they both return to the town, the Mayor puts Patjwi and her mother in a dark prison and that's when he and Kongjwi finally live...

Happily ever after!".

You huff merrily closing the book and putting it back to its place before turning to Seungmin.

Alas, the story didn't seem to bring the toddler the drowsiness you'd thought it would, so you decide to simply leave him to play around in his bed hoping that at some point he'll tire himself enough to sleep.

You take the baby monitor with you and walk out of the bedroom, trying hard not to laugh at the kid scolding his plushie for not going to sleep.

Heading over to the kitchen, you start making yourself a warm cup of tea.

After carefully, pouring yourself a cup, you settle on the living room's couch and check the baby monitor sighing in relief when you see that little Seungmin has finally fallen asleep.

As you take a sip of your tea, you open your phone to check your Instagram for any messages.

After replying to your bestie's "where are you?" with a simple "babysitting", you quickly engage in conversation with her since the both of you have nothing better to do right now.

Soon, her texting gives way to an incoming call, which you're more than happy to answer.

Time goes by without you taking notice until you realise that you've finished your tea.

Abandoning your snuggling on the couch, you walk back to the kitchen in order to wash the used kettle and mug, having put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table behind you so as not to get water spilt on it.

"So... Is the Daddy hot?".

You roll your eyes at her sudden, crude question with a slight scoff.

She was never the kind to hold back on those types of conversations and thirsty comments, yet this time you decide to humour her and just play along.

"Well...

Let's just say, I wouldn't mind calling him Daddy too".

You hum cheekily and your best friend gasps.

"That much huh?".

"Oh trust me... He's a Dilf ".

You bite your lip, slightly embarrassed by yourself calling him that.

Your best friend lets out a hum and you're certain she also has a teasing smirk on her face.

"Hmm, no wonder you were so thrilled over a babysitting job".

You shake your head chuckling, as you stretch your body to put the kettle back in its place on the top shelf, before starting to wash your mug next.

"No no, I really love looking after his son. Seungmin's the sweetest!

Having Mr Kim around is just..."

"A bonus".

She finishes your sentence for you, giggling.

"But really, why don't you shoot your shot?

You know, flirt with him, show off your boobies".

Her saucy tone makes you roll your eyes.

"I'm not showing off my boobs to my boss!".

"You were the one who wanted him to be your Daddy...

Anyway, what I'm saying is-".

Waiting a moment or two for her to continue, you place the clean mug in its place.

When she doesn't, you assume that the signal must have been cut off so you wipe your wet hands on a towel before turning around to grab your phone and call her back.

Oh.My.God!

Your eyes almost pop out of your skull and your body freezes on the spot at the sight of none other than Mr. Kim himself leaning against the table where your phone is placed, his hand hovering over its screen.

"M-Mr. Kim! I-I didn't realise you were back home!".

You stumble over your words, feeling your cheeks burn red from the embarrassment.

The only thing that's left for you to do now is hope that he probably hasn't been home long enough to hear the entire conversation, or else you're most definitely fired.

Mr Kim smirks, the amusement clear on his face.

"I thought you'd prefer calling me Daddy".

You gasp, wishing for the earth to open up and swallow you whole right now.

He heard everything right from the start...

Well, there goes your job!

"I-I... It's not what I meant-! I was just, uh, joking! I-!"

You know your attempts at justifying yourself are futile.

You know that there's nothing redeemable you can say for yourself.

But you don't want to lose this job!

Yes, you need the money too but spending all that time with Mr Kim and Seungmin...

You can't bear the thought of never getting to see them again!

"Y/N..."

Your staggered breath catches in your throat once you realise how close to you Mr Kim has gotten.

He has placed his hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping you between them.

"Mr Kim-".

You look up at him in question, only to get lost in his eyes.

His large palm comes to caress your cheek, his thumb slightly stroking the soft skin.

"Mr Kim".

A low groan rumbles in his throat as he presses his mouth against yours, more fiercely.

You utter again, before his lips suddenly connect with your own and your mind goes blank.

"Do you know how much I had to hold myself back whenever you called me that?".

You let out a small gasp when you feel his other hand start to fondle your breast.

A wanton cry slips past your lips when his fingers brush over your pebbled nipple.

"Do you know how many times I wished you showed these off to me, and me only?".

His words barely register, you mind still remaining blank from the unforeseen pleasure.

You latch your hands onto his wide shoulders as he lifts you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and having you sit on the kitchen counter.

"Do you know how long I wanted to hear you call me Daddy?".

His hand pushes your hair back, revealing your neck for him to bury his face into, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your warm skin.

You slightly throw your head back, your mouth parting in pleasure, while your hands run through his dark hair.

Both of his hands slowly start kneading your breasts as he lifts his lips from your neck, drawing them close to your ear.

"Go on baby, say it...

Let me hear that pretty voice of yours call me Daddy".

Your brain short-circuits at his words.

You honestly can't fully process what's happening right now.

Yet the words leave your mouth with no hesitation.

"Daddy".

It's as if a switch flipped in Namjoon's mind.

"Oh yes, that's it, baby".

He growls, quickly discarding your blouse and bra off of your body before leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

You mewl as he starts to suck on it and your legs press against his hips, urging him to touch you where you need him most.

"Daddy, please".

He lets your nipple out of his mouth with a 'pop' and he stands up straight, slightly towering over you.

His hand disappears inside your pants, touching you over your panties as he looks down at you, his eyes clouded with desire.

"Is that what you want Daddy to do, baby?

Rub your pussy for you".

You pant closing your eyes as you nod at him urgently.

"Words, baby... I need to hear you say it".

"Yes, Daddy please rub my pussy".

And that's exactly what he does...

And he does it so well...

"Eyes on me, baby".

His deep voice coaxes you to open your eyes and gaze upon him.

Namjoon marvels at the sight of you, panting and trembling in pleasure but it's not nearly enough to satisfy his need for you.

He needs to see you come undone now, just by his fingers.

Gingerly pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips before he inserts two of his long fingers inside you.

"Oh, D-Daddy!".

You let out a gasp, feeling yourself already full with just two of his fingers.

The thought of what it would feel like to have his cock enter you next, sends shivers down your spine.

His other hand rests on your hip and when he begins to move his fingers slowly in and out of your wet slit, Namjoon holds your body still as you can't help but squirm from the building pleasure.

"Now baby, I want you to focus on my voice".

You don't get the chance to respond to his words.

A breathy moan rips past your lips, your nails desperately digging into his back when you feel him curling his fingers inside you.

Namjoon lets out a pleased hum before he leans over to huskily whisper in your ear.

"I'll start counting and once I reach seven, you're going to let go and cum for your Daddy, like the good little girl you are".

"One...".

His fingers start to pick up speed, while he continues to move them in and out of you.

"Two...".

His other hand starts roughly groping your breast again, making you whine softly.

"Three... Four...".

His fingers curl intensely inside you, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your whole body.

"Five... Six"

"Daddy, I'm going to-!"

"...Seven".

You let go.

A sweet, little cry resonates in the kitchen when you cum on his fingers, but Namjoon keeps moving them, steadily letting you ride out your orgasm.

Once your body relaxes, you let yourself lean towards him resting your head on his chest with a small hum.

Embarrassment threatens to creep up on you as the gravity of the situation comes down on you.

And yet, when your mind runs back to Namjoon's previous words and touches, you instantly admit to yourself that there's no going back for you now.

You want him.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him.

He relishes your blissed-out expression and smirks when he detects the insatiable desire still reflected in your eyes.

"Tell me what you want, baby".

His deep voice tears up all your remaining inhibitions.

"You, I want you inside me Daddy".

You run your palm through his clothed chest before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, shrugging his suit jacket off of his shoulders.

"Such a good girl, using her words for me".

He swiftly lifts your body off of the kitchen counter and carries you over to the living room.

Your legs stay wrapped around his waist as you finally remove his shirt off of him.

Having his strong arms hold you like this, your sole focus remains on discarding his clothes.

Licking your lips at the sight of his well-built body, you let your hands wander all over it, mapping out his chest, his waist and his shoulders.

Namjoon sighs in satisfaction, before carefully placing you back on the ground, leaving you to stand in front of him topless.

He slowly takes a sit at the edge of the couch behind him and his hands reach out, pulling down your pants and undergarments for you.

Soft moans release from your lips, as he starts to ravish every part of your body with wet kisses and sensual touches.

"Daddy".

You whine, your knees slightly quivering from his heated affection.

"I know baby, Daddy will give you what you want...

Just wanted to take a moment and cherish that beautiful body of yours".

He mutters glancing up at you with lust-filled eyes.

He raises his hips slightly, taking off both of his pants and boxers with one swift movement before leaning back on the couch, resting his arms on the back of it.

One of his fingers points to his lap and your gaze zeroes in on his erected length.

"Go ahead baby, I'm all yours".

You gulp, hesitating for a mere moment before your neediness overcomes you, urging your body to move on top of him.

His hands immediately find their way to your hips, holding onto them firmly to help guide you, as you slowly sink yourself down to his cock.

"Don't rush, we've got all the time in the world".

Namjoon's hushed whisper is soothing and it momentarily distracts you from the slightly painful stretch of his cock.

But the moment you bottom out, a pleasurable heat spreads through your entire body.

Your hips slightly stagger as you itch to start moving them against him but Namjoon's hands keep them still.

His face draws close to yours, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his hot breath mingling with your own.

When he pulls away, his forehead touches yours as he looks deep in your eyes.

"Now, give Daddy a good ride".

Your back arches when his hands roll your hips setting up a steady pace for you to follow.

Once he's made sure you're able to keep up on your own, his hands wrap around your waist hugging your body close to him.

The way he holds you is so erotic; it makes you melt in his arms, hugging him back and letting him relish your unrestrained moans while you ride him.

Namjoon lets you chase your orgasm, simply enjoying the feeling of having you so intimately close to him.

His fingers run down your spine eager to watch goosebumps appear all over your skin.

Yet what takes him by surprise is your walls fluttering around his cock as well.

Namjoon groans throwing his head back, pleasure painting over his expression.

The sight of him losing his composure because of you urges you to pick up the pace, bucking your hips faster against his.

"Oh baby, you make Daddy feel so good...

Come on, won't you cum again around Daddy's cock, like the good girl you are?".

"Ah y-yes Daddy, I-I'm gonna cum!".

His half-lidded eyes are focused on you and you only.

The intensity of his gaze is enough to send you over the edge.

You bite your lip, in an attempt to muffle the shriek that leaves your mouth before your orgasm finally washes over you.

The pleasure your second orgasm brings you is even more intense than your previous one...

So much so, that when the afterglow settles in, you can't help but let your body slump on top of Namjoon's.

Snuggling against his slightly heaving chest, you gather up the courage to look up at him bashfully.

"Um... Mr. Kim-".

Your call for him gets interrupted by his mouth claiming yours in yet another passionate kiss.

Kissing you roughly and deeply, he doesn't draw back until he leaves you breathless.

His fingers brush through your hair tenderly but the look in his eyes is strict and his tone is absolute when he whispers to you.

"I thought we'd already established that from now on, you're only addressing me as Daddy".