#This has nothing to do with home schooling

[star-sim]

clementine ☆ heeseung lee

☆ non-idol! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: heeseung was home for the summer. but so were you, the one girl that he's always hated since your playground days. the worst part was that you suddenly got hot, and now he had no idea what to do with himself. unfortunately, an entire year of not seeing each other creates the perfect conditions for one of you (or both of you) to catch feelings! ☆ genre: fluff, college! au, loser!heeseung, boyfailure x girlboss, nerdy heeseung LOL, childhood enemies to lovers, neighbors au!, humor, #patheticmen, suggestive-ish but not rlly ☆ warning(s)? loser!heeseung is SO awkward you might get embarrassed MEOW ☆ word count: 16.1k words ☆ based off the song "clementine" by grentperez. i hope this feels summery and cutesy hehe

Heeseung swore that he was going crazy.

Because why on earth was he actually attracted to you?

You, who used to kick over his sandcastles in the sandbox. You, who always hogged the slides at the playground. You, who always made a point to get him first in a game of tag. You, who always rolled your eyes at him no matter what he said. You, who made it clear to him and everyone on the face of the earth that you couldn’t stand him.

Heeseung couldn’t believe that he was even thinking about it— Why were you hot?

It's been about two weeks since Heeseung returned home for summer break. He'd finished his first full term at UC San Diego, majoring in communications. He had been living in the dorms the entire year, so it's been quite a while since Heeseung had been home.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed like nothing had changed.

They always said that adulthood and college really changes a person. But Heeseung felt the same as always.

All throughout middle school and highschool, Heeseung's summer days were often spent indoors. Reading books, drawing in his sketchbooks, playing video games, talking to his friends, and sometimes even laying in complete silence and just staring at the ceiling. 

And all these years later, Heeseung was still doing the same this summer. 

It's only the beginning of summer, but Heeseung has done next to nothing. He's seen his old friends maybe once or twice, and really only went outside from time to time to take out trash or help his mom water the plants in the backyard.

Truthfully, nothing about Heeseung has changed. He was still the quiet, introverted guy that liked time alone.

Nothing has changed.... all except one thing.

And it was driving Heeseung nuts.

You.

You were the neighbor girl, and consequently, someone that's shown up in every stage of his life. Your parents quickly became friends, so your families were closely intertwined and spent a considerable amount of time together.

The two of you went to the same high school, middle school, elementary school— heck you even played at the same playground. 

And for some reason, you just loved to torment him. It was never anything serious, but any opportunity you got, you would bother him and just be the most annoying person ever. 

Everyone in his life insisted that you were just the best little angel, but that couldn't be any further from the truth. You were mean and childish and insufferable.

And to make it worse, you always seemed to beat Heeseung at everything. Ever since your elementary school days, you somehow always got a better score than Heeseung, whether it be an assignment on coloring shapes or your AP US History scores. His parents and your parents always reassured him that he was good too, but how was he supposed to feel encouraged when you just beat him at everything?!

And you never failed to let him know it, too. You always had that sly little grin.

You even beat him in getting into his dream university. It's not really your fault technically, because it was your dream university, too. But it's the principle of it!

Heeseung couldn't help but narrow his eyes and clench his fists when he heard his mom talk about how well you're doing at UC Irvine in your prestigious little public health major.

Hate was too strong of a word, but he couldn't say that he liked you at all.

Which was why Heeseung felt his sanity slipping away.

The last thing that he expected when he came back for the summer was for you to get hot. And boy, you were hot.

It was actually infuriating how attractive you got.

Sure, Heeseung's seen you grow up beside him, but in his mind you were always the snotty six year-old that stole his candy. But after an entire year of not seeing you, he couldn't help but gawk at you.

Look, he wasn't actively seeking you out. 

Just, every time that Heeseung was out watering the plants or helping with yard work, you just so happened to peek your head over the garden wall to say hi to his dad. Your face always scrunched up when you caught a glimpse of Heeseung, murmuring a tight-lipped greeting to him too before your head dipped back under the wall.

The first time it happened, Heeseung's jaw nearly dropped. Because since when were you pretty?

The second time that Heeseung saw you was at the local ice cream parlor near the pier. In all the ice cream parlors in Orange County, you just had to go to the same one as him. 

You were wearing a bikini top with denim shorts, sunglasses atop your head. Clearly, you had just been at the beach. You had a group of friends around you (after all, between the two of you, you were the social and popular one), yet Heeseung could only look at you.

There was just something about the way the bikini top hugged your body. Maybe it was the droplets of water running down your chest. Or maybe it was the way you swayed to the faint background music of the parlor, your face looking relaxed and dreamy. Or maybe it was the way he felt so goddamn small next to you, despite having screamed and yelled and fought with you so many times in his childhood.

Since then, it felt like you just popped up everywhere. On days that Heeseung's brother or cousins forced him out of the house, you somehow managed to be where he was. And every single time, he'd just stand there and ogle at you. Even when his brother or cousins would say hi to you and strike up a conversation, Heeseung was always rendered speechless, too busy looking at the way your lips moved to truly register anything.

It almost made him angry. How dare you become hot over the past year? How dare you make him feel so stupid?

In every way possible, you were glowing. 

And it was killing Heeseung.

Heeseung let out a sigh as he sunk down onto his bed. 

It was already 8PM, yet the sky outside was still amidst the sunset. His fan was blasting, and so was his house's AC system— he even opened up his windows— yet it was still too hot.

Jamming his earbuds in his ear, Heeseung picked at the hem of his t-shirt, ignoring the way that the hair on the nape of his neck clung to his skin due to sweat.

Heeseung, even throughout college, called his friends a lot. But now that it was summer, all his friends were busy on vacation or having plans, and didn't have a lot of time to call.

Heeseung listened to the ringtone, tapping his fingers impatiently.

Finally, the ringtone stopped.

"Hey, man," a familiar, deep voice rang in Heeseung's ears. "What's up?"

"Jay!" Heeseung cried.

Jay Park was Heeseung's best friend all throughout his life. Although Jay was a year younger than him, that never was a problem in their friendship. Jay had just graduated high school, and he'd be attending UC San Diego with Heeseung next term. 

Out of everyone at home, Jay was the one person that Heeseung spoke to the most. 

He told him everything, and if he didn't, Jay always managed to get it out of him one way or another.

"What's on your mind?" Jay huffed. He always sounded exasperated, but he meant well. The moment that he graduated, Jay went back to his hometown in Seattle to meet with family. Luckily, Heeseung caught him before he left to congratulate him. Otherwise, Jay's been busy, so Heeseung appreciated him taking the time to talk to him.

Unfortunately, Jay knew Heeseung too well. Of course there was something on his mind— You. But Heeseung would rather die than admit it, even to his closest, most trusted friend. Not only was it embarrassing, but Jay's heard and witnessed it all. Heeseung would never live it down if Jay found out.

"Nothing!" Heeseung said in a sing-songy voice. "I just miss my best friend soooooo much."

Jay was fun to tease.

"Yeah, yeah." Heeseung could practically hear Jay roll his eyes, scowl, and scrunch his nose over the phone, something he did whenever he was embarrassed. "Well, I had a feeling that there was something on your mind. You never spam me with emojis unless you have something serious to talk about."

Heeseung scoffed playfully. Jay really did know him too well. 

"Nope!" Heeseung said, popping the p. 

"Right," Jay responded, and the older could tell that he was suspicious. 

A few moments of comfortable silence fell over the two of them. Sometimes, they didn't know what to say to each other, but being in each other's presence was enough.

"Oh!" Jay suddenly exclaimed, "I just remembered something that I wanted to tell you!"

Heeseung hummed in response. It was probably some crazy gossip about a teacher from their old high school getting arrested.

"But, you need to promise me that you won't tell anyone," the younger boy said, his voice eager and impatient. "Like, you can't tell anyone."

Heeseung hummed again. "Yeah."

"No, like, promise me," Heeseung could hear the fervor in his friend's voice, almost as if he's been holding this information back and was just itching to tell someone. 

"Is it that bad?" Heeseung chuckled. "You're scaring me, man."

"Promise me," Jay repeated.

"Fine," Heeseung huffed, crossing his arms. "I promise I will not tell anyone. Not a single soul."

"Okay, okay," Jay took a deep breath over the phone. Just by the sound of it, Heeseung could tell that he was about to burst if he didn't tell someone now. "So, a few weeks ago— I don't know how it slipped my mind, I was going to tell you the moment I found out— I was in Macro, and do you remember that one girl Natty, or something? The one with the bangs, like, the one that dances, and—"

"On with it!" Heeseung interrupted impatiently.

"Okay, well, Natty asked me if my friend Heedeung Lee was dating anyone, and I was like 'Who is Heedeung Lee?' so I just looked at her like she was crazy and so she never spoke to me about it again until—"

"Hurry up!" Heeseung groaned. Jay talked a lot. "Get to the point, please!"

"I'm getting there!" Jay yelled over the phone. "Well, basically Natty told me that her friend told her that [Name] [Last Name] used to have a massive crush on you."

.

.

.

"Huh?"

You, [Name] [Last Name], had a crush on him? 

On Heeseung Lee?

"I know!" Jay laughed over the phone. "That's crazy, isn't it?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Heeseung's lips moved faster than he could think. He could feel his ears burning, and they stung like hell. "Who told her?"

Jay paused to think. "Natty said that Ryujin Shin told her."

Ryujin Shin was your good friend. She wouldn't lie about something like this. Jay's source was definitely trustworthy.

Heeseung's heart was now pounding in his chest. His palms felt clammy. 

He simply couldn't process it. You? Liked him? It just didn't make sense. And after all the thoughts that he's been having about you, it didn't feel right. Something must be mistaken, right?

"When?" Heeseung blurted, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "When did she like me?"

"Hmmm," Jay hummed. 

Surely, you liked him in elementary school, right? There was absolutely no way that you liked him any time recently. That's impossible!

"I think she liked you..." Jay trailed off, thinking, "I think she liked you all throughout highschool."

Shit.

"I mean, I think everyone knew. It's not that surprising to me, I'm more surprised that you didn't know all this time. Like, it's so obvious— she was so obvious—"

Heeseung hung up.

"Heeseung?"

Wow, has grass always been that green?

"Heeseung, what are you—"

Heeseung never knew the world could be so beautiful. The sky was so blue and the clouds were so fluffy.

"Hey, Hee—"

What's that bright ball in the sky? Why was it yellow and so warm? Is that what people call the sun—

"Heeseung!"

Heeseung was pulled out of his daze as his older brother shook his shoulders.

It's only been a few days since Jay told the news on Heeseung, but it felt like weeks. Since then, Heeseung has gone outside more times than he ever had. He'd sit in the front yard and feel the grass under his fingertips, reconnecting with nature after such a bomb was dropped on him. Other days he'd dip his toes in his pool, just basking in the sunlight, and sometimes he'd go on walks, taking time to appreciate the world around him.

After all, if Heeseung stayed all cooped up in his room, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

Truthfully, nothing has ever impacted Heeseung as much as the fact that you liked him. Genuinely, Heeseung has never felt more confused, distraught, distressed, and downright afraid in his life.

Because... How could he?

Heeseung wouldn't be completely truthful if he said he didn't think you were attractive before this summer. How could he not? There was a reason that you were popular at school. You've always been cute. It was just your personality that made Heeseung hesitant to admit it.

But to think that you— the you that always went out of your way to get on his nerves in every capacity— had a crush on him? Absolutely insane.

And the craziest part was that your crush was obvious to everyone but him. Heeseung made a point to ask all of his old friends as discreetly as possible. Same answer every time:

"Yeah man, she was soooo in love with you."

You? Obvious? With your crush on him? Absolutely not!

This was not something that Heeseung would have expected in a million years!

And the nail in the coffin was when he asked Ryujin Shin herself.

"Oh yeah, she used to make me pick out her outfits to impress you," was all Ryujin had to say in order to kill Heeseung.

It just didn't make sense! Heeseung genuinely couldn't believe it. Of all the people in the world, you had a crush on him? It's not like no one's ever had a crush on him, but it's literally you!

Every time Heeseung thought about it he felt light-headed.

Currently, Heeseung was standing under a tree, cooling off from the rising weather. He had agreed to go on a walk at the park with his older brother. After all, after everything, he needed to touch grass. 

"You've been spacy lately, Hee," his brother nudged him. Heeseung was grateful that his brother was also back from university for the summer. "Everything okay?"

"Y-Yeah..." Heeseung murmured in response. 

Wow, the dirt felt nice under his shoes. He could feel mosquitoes biting at his ankles, but the hot weather was making him too exhausted to care. He should go outside more often. Maybe he'd be less distracted. And he wouldn't think about you.

Heeseung's brother smacked the back of the younger boy's head. "You sure?"

Heeseung chewed on his bottom lip. His mind was completely fried, blank. He couldn't think.

"Hellooooo? Earth to Heeseung?"

Radio silence.

Yeah, he was cooked.

It took Heeseung an entire week to even be able to think of your name without wanting to pass out.

He didn't completely come to terms with it, but he was at a point that he'd gone over the thought too many times for it to sting anymore. Still, Heeseung couldn't stop thinking about you.

All this time you liked him and he didn't notice. Probably because you tormented him the entire time. Not quite flirting, in his opinion.

What made matters worse, though, was the fact that Heeseung would see you from time to time. It was hard.

On one hand, you were an absolute treat to look at. 

Like, wow.

Anytime he caught a glimpse of you, whether over the fence or through the kitchen window, Heeseung could physically feel his eyes get blessed.

You really were one of the most beautiful people Heeseung had ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. He choked on his spit every time he saw you, it was insane.

On the other hand...

Ohmygodyouhadacrushonhim.

Seeing you was terrifying.

You were the one person that's always been his sworn rivalry... and this entire time you probably never saw him like that.

It was absolutely horrifying to think about!

Heeseung's cheeks felt warm at the thought. In fact, his entire body felt hot. He wasn't even sweating but his skin begged for a bucket of iced water to be poured on him. Maybe he should hose himself down later.

Maybe it was just the summer heat.

"You want me to what?!"

No, no, no!

"You heard me, young man," Heeseung's mom crossed her arms. Heeseung watched with eyes wide as saucers from his seat at the kitchen island as his mom organized the pantry. How could she be so casual?!

The world was ending. It's over.

"Nooooo," Heeseung cried, burying his face in his arms. "Mom, I can't!"

"Why not?" Mrs. Lee cocked her brows. "It's not like [Name] has a disease or anything."

Heeseung shook his head profusely. "I know, but—"

"Then what's so difficult about going over and saying hi to her? It's been an entire year since you guys have seen each other!"

Heeseung groaned.

And that's how he was forced to walk over to your house next door and say hi. He didn't know why his mom was so insistent, but it's probably because she was good friends with your mom, or something. Him and your families have always been close, so Heeseung was bound to interact with you this summer.

Heeseung dragged his feet as he walked over to your house. He really didn't want to see you.

At first, he thought you hated him, but now apparently you've liked him all this time? And he's also sexually frustrated so now Heeseung was just confused.

And lo and behold, the moment that your house came into view, there you were. 

You were in a swimsuit, sunbathing on your front lawn. You wore your chunky sunglasses that fit you too well, your pretty lips sipping on a fancy glass of coconut water.

Heeseung had to force himself to not gawk.

Goddamn, was all he could think, because goddamn were you fine.

The way the sun shone down on your skin made it hard for him to look away. You were completely relaxed, alone in your own world, yet you managed to still be glowing. Heeseung's mouth felt dry, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you sprawled out on the lawn like that.

Heeseung's feet took him further than his mind could, too busy gaping at you. He stopped at the front of your house, just enough for you to notice him.

"Oi!" you yelled from your lawn, perching yourself up on your elbows in a way that made you even more attractive. "The fuck do you want, Lee?!"

Heeseung had to shake out of his daze. 

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, an awkward hand coming up to wave at you. Heeseung winced in his head, feeling embarrassment wash over him as you took off you looked over your sunglasses, shooting him a questioning look. 

He'd never been like this with you. Ever. The only memories that Heeseung had with you were just the two of you bickering. Never any shyness or awkwardness. So why was he so nervous now?

"Ummmm," you said. Heeseung recognized that tone: it was the tone that you used when you wanted to obnoxiously pretend to be confused to embarrass him. Usually, it would just annoy him, but this time Heeseung was actually embarrassed. "Hi?"

Heeseung could feel your judgy gaze under your sunglasses. You were definitely staring him down. Whether with love or with hate, he didn't know. But it scared the fuck out of him.

"Well, I'mgonnagonowbye!" Heeseung spouted before running off.

(Heeseung could tell that you were watching him as he struggled to get his front door open. In fact, he had to knock multiple times and yell for someone to let him in, because he was actually locked out. And the moment that he was let in, Heeseung ran up to his room, and slammed the door. Never again.)

Although you thought it would be 10x funnier if you didn't, you did in fact think Heeseung Lee was cute. Of course you did. Especially after a year of not seeing him, you couldn’t deny that he’d really grown into a man. He definitely got taller, and his voice sounded deeper too. The way the muscles on his biceps and forearms flexed when he did yard work gave you more of a reason to peek over the garden wall to say hi.

You thought your dumb little childhood crush on Heeseung had subsided by now. You felt a little bad for a while, for always being mean to him— but you just like him so much! 

When you went away for school, you were sure you’d forget all about it. After all, you had a feeling that your feelings for him were out of convenience: he was just a guy that you were close in proximity to. Plus, it was so obvious, too. He definitely knew all throughout high school and middle school how much you liked him. It would hurt your pride to go back to him.

But now that he’s back (and so are you!) you’re having second thoughts.

Sure, he was cute. 

Would you kiss him? Sure. 

Would you date him? The answer to that would be kept a secret. 

For now, you were just going to have fun with it. Whatever happened was not up to you anyway. 

Though, you’d be lying if you said that you never tried to impress him, especially now.

You told yourself it was in a condescending way. 

In a "look how hot I am" way. 

In an untouchable way.

Because you knew that he’d be looking anyway. He always did, even if he didn’t mean to.

And you knew for sure now, as you put on your fitted bikini top that he’d definitely be looking.

Lucky you, your siblings and cousins were close to Heeseung’s brother and cousins. When you were younger, everyone would gather in Heeseung’s backyard for a pool party. 

And now that it was summer, it was no surprise that there was a pool party at the Lee house today.

So here you were, in Heeseung’s backyard, dipping your toes in his pool. 

The Southern California weather was not doing anyone justice. The blue sky was clear, with no cloud in sight. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on anyone who dared to be in its presence. 

The air smelled of Mrs. Lee's lemon tree, sunscreen, chlorine water, and barbecue. Loud music boomed throughout the Lees' backyard, coupled with shouting, laughing, and the sizzle of the grill.

Everyone was here— Heeseung’s brother, his cousins, and all of your siblings and cousins— except the boy himself. 

He’s probably inside cooped up in his room, you thought with an eye roll. He always was. Whenever there was a pool party like this, he always came down the latest, after getting an earful from his mom about being a party pooper. 

You’d always hoped that he’d come down. After all, he was the only one your age, and you wanted to show off how cute you looked. 

That’s something that never changed. 

You pushed up your sunglasses, watching as the boys that you grew up with tackled each other in the water and screamed bloody murder. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

At pool parties like this, you usually found yourself sitting near the shallow side of the pool, dipping your feet in and just enjoying everyone's presence. 

Frankly, you weren't a fan of the water.

You were too busy splashing your cousins with water and laughing at how stupid they looked with their hair all wet and swooped around to notice the sound of a very familiar boy being dragged downstairs.

"Dude— Let go— Ack!" Heeseung's voice boomed all the way from behind the screen door. "Let go— Ow!"

You turned over your shoulder to see Heeseung himself standing at the entrance to the backyard, pouting like a child with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing swim trunks, but wore an oversized t-shirt over it.

Still, he looked as good as ever.

His tan skin, disheveled hair, and overall awkward and loserish look— you loved it too much.

You watched curiously as he stood there awkwardly while everyone else played in the water. 

You sighed. Some things never change.

You pulled your feet out of the pool, before walking with wet feet over to the cooler next to the grill to grab two Caprisuns. Then, you trudged over to where Heeseung was standing.

"Look who decided to finally go outside," you said with a deadpan tone. Usually, Heeseung would glare at you, maybe scoff and look away. But this time, his eyes just shakily shifted to your face. Weird.

You could see his eyes widen a fraction, before they traveled down to your bikini top. You had to hold back a smug grin— Good, he was looking.

You shoved one of the Caprisuns into his hand, while stabbing your own with the straw. 

He still stared at you, as if you were some kind of unicorn.

"Why do you keep staring?" you asked bluntly, quirking your brow at him. It was weird. Where was the annoyed Heeseung that fought back whenever you bothered him?

The boy tensed up, his eyes widening into saucers before he turned away from you altogether. 

Was he... sick?

You looked at him questioningly. Heeseung stood completely still, his back turned to you, gripping onto his Caprisun for dear life.

You sighed. You nudged him with your elbow. 

"I thought a school like UCSD would make you at least a little bit cooler," you began your way back to the pool, but stopped. You looked over your shoulder at him. "Still a loser."

And with that, you left him standing there.

Heeseung swore that he's not a loser.

Well, maybe he was just a little bit of a loser, but not that much. You called him a loser all the time, and it never really got to him. After all, you were cooler than anyone Heeseung knew, so your standard of coolness was off the charts.

Though, it did bother him a little bit this time. And for the life of him, Heeseung couldn't figure out why.

Eventually, he trudged over to the pool and dipped his feet in beside you. Though, he made sure to keep a big distance between the two of you. 

Heeseung didn't know what he would do if he was any closer to you. And plus, you'd probably start screaming anyway.

In fourth grade, he pushed you into the pool as a joke, without knowing that you didn't know how to swim. Since then, you made it a point to scream whenever Heeseung was near you at the pool, always claiming that he'd pose a danger to you, or something like that.

The music was nice, and so was the feeling of the sun on his skin. Heeseung just felt a little bit out of place, but he wasn't unhappy to be there.

Heeseung was lost in thought, a habit that he's had since he was younger— so lost that he didn't hear the splashing of the pool, so lost didn't hear his brother ask you why you weren't swimming, so lost that he didn't hear his cousins threaten to push you in if you didn't get in yourself.

But the moment that Heeseung heard your shrill scream, he was up on his feet.

In a few quick seconds, Heeseung's brother had hauled you up over his shoulder, ignoring the way that you wriggled in his touch, and threw you into the pool. 

It all happened so quickly before Heeseung's eyes, yet it felt like time slowed down.

As the water splashed in what felt like slow-motion, Heeseung watched as your eyes widened into large saucers, a loud shriek ripping from your throat. His breath hitched. Other than those sounds, he couldn't hear anything else: not everyone laughing, not the music, not the grilling, just you and him and the water.

Heeseung's lips moved faster than him.

"You idiot!" he shouted, and although his entire body felt like it was frozen in time, he was already halfway through throwing his t-shirt off. Heeseung tuned out the sound of more laughter. He could feel his blood boil. "She can't swim!"

With no hesitation, Heeseung dove into the pool, ignoring the cold sensation that sent goosebumps down his spine as the water engulfed him. 

There were some things that cannot be forgotten, and something that Heeseung knew he'd never forget was the way you wrapped your arms around him the moment that you felt his presence. Your once tense body relaxed immediately. You clung onto him, your eyes squeezed shut as stray tears spilled out. He could hear the raggedness of your breath, and just by your face, Heeseung couldn't even imagine the panic and fear that you'd felt. 

"Heeseung," you whimpered, grasping the boy as if you would die. You sniffled, pressing your face into his neck as your arms tightened around his torso. "Hee—"

Heeseung could feel chlorine water droplets slipping into his eyes, burning them. Yet, he didn't remove his hands from around you, not even once. As he stabilized the two of you in the water, he squeezed your shoulders comfortingly.

"You're safe," he said against your ear, "I got you."

The last thing you expected to happen was to be sitting on Heeseung Lee's bed.

He still had his shelf full of comic books and figurines. Except, the last time you really took a look at the shelf was when you were 13, and now six years later it was completely filled to the brim. The walls were still covered in superhero posters. In the corner of his room, there used to be a tiny little ukelele from when he was just learning how to play, but now it was replaced with a guitar.

You shivered, pulling your knees to your chest as you sniffled, holding the towel draped over your shoulders tightly. Your skin felt cold to the touch, but on the inside, you felt like you were burning up. Hot tears lined your eyes, threatening to stream out.

After that fiasco, Heeseung took you upstairs to his room. He left you a few moments ago to find you clean clothes.

You were angry. Why did they throw you in the pool? You thought it was common knowledge that you couldn't swim. You grew up with these people! How did Heeseung Lee remember and not anyone else? How annoying.

"Uh," Heeseung cracked his bedroom door open, poking his head in. You cocked a brow at him, especially when you noticed that he came back empty handed. "Just— Give me a second."

You watched as he went to his own drawers, taking out his own clothes.

"I— There's no girls living in his house," he said sheepishly as he handed you his clothes, unable to hide his red ears. "I couldn't find you— uh— girl clothes, so just— just take mine."

You just frowned.

Although you didn't do any swimming yourself, being thrown into a pool and drowning for a few moments was physically taxing enough. You didn't feel like moving right now, even if it was something as easy as changing clothes. You just put the clothes beside you on the bed, muttering a quiet thanks before pulling your knees even closer to your chest.

Heeseung stared at you. It was uncharacteristic to see you so... small. Someone so bothersome and mean to him, yet here you were curled up like you didn't want to be seen.

Heeseung would never admit it, but he felt bad for you at that moment.

Heeseung sighed.

He took a few more steps forward, standing in front of the bed.

"Scoot over," he said, motioning with his hands.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. Your lips jutted out for a few seconds into a pout, but you huffed and nodded. Heeseung plopped down beside you, letting out another sigh. 

The two of you sat in silence like that for a few moments, both staring at the floor. In the distance you could still hear water splashing and music from the backyard.

"Thanks, by the way" you murmured, breaking the silence. You kept your eyes down.

"Huh?" Heeseung whipped his head over to you.

"I said thanks," you repeated yourself, this time louder and with annoyance. "You loser."

"Oh." Heeseung blinked. "Sorry."

It was silent again, before you clicked your tongue. You nudge Heeseung with your foot. 

"Why are you apologizing?" you sounded irritated, but Heeseung knew that that was just your natural tone when you weren't trying to be nice all the time. 

"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "I guess for being a loser."

You sighed loudly, your brows furrowing as you nudged him again. 

"You're taking me too seriously," you rubbed your temples. "I mean, you are a loser, but I don't really give a fuck if you are."

Heeseung blinked. "Huh?"

You groaned. "You're so dense. My point is, you have nothing to apologize for, including for being thick in the head and a loser."

.

.

.

"As a matter of fact," you grumbled. "I'm grateful for you. I'd be six feet under if it wasn't for you."

.

.

.

You finally turned to look at Heeseung. Your hand came up to flick his forehead.

"Ow!" Heeseung cried, his hand shooting up for his head. "What was that for— Ack!"

You grabbed a pillow and smacked him square in the head.

"What the hell?!" Heeseung yelled. He reached across you to grab one of his pillows, launching it at you, hitting you in the face.

But instead of fighting back like Heeseung expected, you threw your head back, falling back onto the bed. You were laughing.

"What are you—" Heeseung scrunched his face, before he grabbed another pillow and smacked you again. "What are you laughing at?"

You didn't respond, only continuing to laugh. Heeseung watched as you clutched your stomach, your eyes squeezing together as your lips parted, airy giggles pouring out.

His ears burned. Did he say something funny?

Had Heeseung ever seen you laugh so... light-heartedly? It seemed like the only times you'd laugh was when you were making fun of him. But here you were, laughing like he'd just said the funniest thing.

"Sorry," you said when you finally calmed down. You relaxed into his pillows, letting out a soft ah. You wiped your eyes, which had tears coming out from how hard you laughed. "It's just..." you glanced at him, "You were scaring me."

"Why?" Heeseung's brows furrowed. 

"You were, like, being so awkward," you said coolly. "I mean, you're always awkward, but you were being awkward in a weird, shy way. You weren't fighting back like you usually did."

You flashed him a cheeky grin. "But you seem to be back to normal now."

Heeseung stared at your face. 

Well, even if you were super hot now, and even if you had a crush on him, nothing would change the fact that the two of you were (no matter how much you didn't want to admit it) childhood friends. Heeseung wouldn't want anything to come between that. Even his own awkwardness. There was no use being weird about anything.

Maybe this summer was for the two of you to finally connect, rather than push each other away.

"Ew," you kicked Heeseung, "Stop staring, you freak."

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Go change."

Truthfully, it was impossible to be awkward like this around you. Heeseung was awkward with everyone, including his own mother sometimes, but not you.

(By the end of the pool party, you and Heeseung had spent most of the time up in his room, which wasn't uncommon throughout your childhood. Though, the difference now was that you and him weren't arguing.)

Normally, on summer mornings, Heeseung slept until noon. But his slumber this morning was rudely interrupted by the sound of someone banging on his door.

"What the fuck?" Heeseung cursed under his breath as he trudged downstairs, still shirtless and groggy in his Minecraft pajama pants. He'd curse at his brother for not answering the door, but Heeseung remembered that everyone else in his family had a life that didn't include being home all day, unlike him. 

Heeseung hastily opened the front door, ready to yell at whoever was disrupting him at this time. It was probably one of those solicitors trying to sell him something, or some kid that accidentally threw a ball into his yard.

But when he opened the door...

"Hi, loser."

Heeseung slammed the door.

What the hell were you doing at his house at this time?! Granted, it was almost 11AM, but still!

"What the fuck?!" you began banging again, "Open up!"

"No!" Heeseung yelled from the other side of the door. "What are you doing here?!"

"Well, open up and I'll tell you!"

After this back and forth for a few minutes, Heeseung finally agreed on letting you in.

"Rude," you muttered, crossing your arms. "Didn't your mother teach you to not slam the door on people's faces?"

Heeseung grabbed the door, beginning to close it again. You jammed your foot inside. "Not so fast, little boy."

Heeseung rolled his eyes. "Explain."

You huffed. "I'm bored. Can we hang out?"

.

.

.

"What? Why?"

You pushed past the boy, stepping inside his house and making your way to the kitchen.

"I already said," you said coolly. "I'm bored."

Heeseung trailed after you. "It's too early!"

You shrugged, making a bee-line for the fridge, looking through it. Heeseung sighed. There was no reckoning with you. He took a seat at the kitchen island, letting out an annoyed groan.

You looked over your shoulder, quirking your brow at him. 

"Nice pajamas, by the way."

It was now that Heeseung realized that he was half naked with messy hair and his embarrassing Minecraft PJ pants.

His ears burned.

"I thought you were done with Minecraft," Heeseung could hear the teasing tone in your voice as a sly grin spread across your lips. "I guess some things just never change."

"Shut— Shut up!" And he scurried upstairs to freshen up and change. You chuckled.

Apparently, your definition of "hanging out" was gossiping in your car while devouring frozen yogurt.

"Why are you so surprised?" you asked, while indiscreetly stealing a strawberry from Heeseung's frozen yogurt.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I just thought you'd have more extravagant plans for what a 'hang out' is."

You scoffed. "Like what?"

"I don't know!" Heeseung shook his head. "Maybe, like, going to the beach? Or going to the movies? What do cool people do these days?"

"Why would you think that?" you almost looked offended. 

"You were popular in high school, weren't you?" Heeseung reasoned. "I assumed that your hangouts were cool because everyone wanted to be there."

You scowled. "Okay, well, getting frozen yogurt is cool. I don't know what you're talking about." Heeseung shrugged again. "And plus, I chose this activity because I knew you wouldn't like the beach or movies."

Heeseung blinked. Did you really do that for him?

"Why are you looking at me like I killed someone?" you rolled your eyes. "Why would I hang out with you and only do stuff that I'd enjoy? It's not fun when the other person isn't having fun, you know."

"I—I know," Heeseung stammered. The corner of his lips lifted a little bit. "I just can't believe you have feelings."

An offended sound came out of your lips. You slapped his shoulder, once, twice, three times, ignoring his yelps.

"I'm sorryyyyy!" Heeseung cried, squirming away from you. "Ack! What is your problem, dude— Ow! I said I'm sorry!"

"Take that back, you freak!"

"I did...!"

Heeseung never thought that he'd wake up on some mornings and see you in his kitchen, scouring his pantry and fridge for food. 

At first, Heeseung found himself panicking every time he inevitably trekked downstairs, all groggy and shirtless, at noon and you were there munching on cereal.

"Why— What are you—" Heeseung would stare at you horrified, immediately feeling shy because he was shirtless. How could you be so... so casual?! "How did you even get in?!"

You'd just shrug nonchalantly, ignoring Heeseung's spluttering. 

"I asked your mom for an extra key," you had pulled out of your pocket. "See?"

And ever since then, it wasn't common for Heeseung to hear the front door cracking open, followed by the sound of rustling in the kitchen and living room.

Initially, Heeseung made a point to freshen up before clambering down to give you an earful for turning the TV's volume too high. He made sure to throw on a shirt, maybe brush his hair and teeth and wash his face. 

But the moment that Heeseung no longer relied on his biological clock and his alarm clock to wake him up because the ruckus that you'd make in his kitchen was loud enough to shake him out of his slumber, he realized that there was really no escaping you.

"Turn it down, will you?!" Heeseung would shout from upstairs, barely awake. You'd groan, but you'd comply. After all, it was his house that you were raiding.

It was weird. Heeseung never thought that he'd become comfortable with you like this, and in such a short amount of time. There was a level of friendship between the two of you no matter what. You'd grown up together, that was undeniable.

But Heeseung had always expected you and him to actually become friends through other means. He'd always thought that something bigger, more dramatic, would happen, something that would force the two of you to finally get along.

But all it took was for you to be bored one day and go to his house.

Had he been misinterpreting everything? All this time, Heeseung always thought that there was a wall around you, something that he couldn't break down. Yet here he was now, minding his own business while you ate at his kitchen island.

It made him think, was it college and summertime that made the two of you like this? Or has it always been like this, and he never noticed it?

It made him think back to his childhood.

He had so many distinct memories of you.

You pushing him down the slide, you calling him stupid, you pulling his hair when you were bored.

But there were also other memories, ones that Heeseung had to think hard about, ones that made him question whether or not his memory was playing tricks on him.

He could remember you following him upstairs after one of your families' dinners when you guys were six years-old. 

If there was something six year-old Heeseung and you could agree on, it was that the adults' conversations at dinner were too boring and convoluted to follow. 

Heeseung faintly remembered the way you paused briefly in front of the shelf in the corner of his room. It was the shelf that he displayed his comic books and superhero figurines on, a collection that he'd spent all of his allowance money on. 

Heeseung had ignored you as you messed around with his stuffed animals, opting to read his comic books in silence. You had crawled up beside him, your squeaky voice pulling Heeseung's head out of the pages.

"What's that?" you had asked him.

Heeseung's teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He remembered what happened after you asked that clearly.

"A comic book," young Heeseung had said annoyedly, shooting you a glare. "Duh."

Heeseung could distinctly remember how he felt at that moment. Embarrassment. His brother, his brother's friends, and Heeseung's own friends liked to tease him for his nerdy interests.

Six year-old you didn't take the hint, only further poking and prying him. Your fingers plucked one of the pages, curiously looking at the screen-toned pages and text bubbles. "What's it about?"

Heeseung had snatched the comic book from you, so hard that the page you were gripping ripped. His memory was fuzzy here, but from what he could recall, Heeseung got angry and yelled at you. He had pushed you, making you bump into his figurine shelf. One of his bigger and sharper figurines managed to knock over, falling and hitting your square in the face.

It was nothing serious, just a scratch, but you were crying by the end of it.

As an adult, Heeseung cringed at the memory.

Poor, awkward six year-old Heeseung, who thought you were making fun of him when really you were just interested.

And after that, you never asked him about his superhero comics again.

As Heeseung now peered at you scrolling through movies to watch, he couldn't help but notice how you hovered over all the superhero movies, before moving past them. He wondered how different things would have been if he didn't yell at you that day. In fact, he wondered how different things would have been if he didn't yell at you at all.

Because now that Heeseung thought about it, all of his memories of you annoying him were really just you wanting to talk to him. When you slapped his shoulder and called him stupid, it wasn't you trying to be mean to him. You were just like that.

Had he taken everything wrong all this time?

First, it started with you eating in his kitchen everyday.

The next thing Heeseung knew, you were forcing him to go outside everyday, one way or another. This must be the most sunlight that Heeseung has ever had in his entire life.

On some days, you wanted to go on walks around the neighborhood.

"Do you remember that house?" you asked him once, pointing to the house at the end of the block. 

Heeseung's lips lifted. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

You chuckled. "Hell-bound dogs, right?"

Heeseung could remember the day. When you and him were ten years-old, you went trick-or-treating down the neighborhood. The house at the end of the block was new to the neighborhood, so the two of you kids had no clue what your new neighbor was like.

Big mistake. That year, Heeseung was dressed as a demon with a plastic demonic mask, while you were a witch.

The two of you had no idea that your neighbor would be so... afraid... of two children dressed as a demon and as a witch. 

As fast as you rang that doorbell, chanting trick or treat!, the two of you were sent running back home at full speed, with a shouting neighbor threatening to call the police on you "hell-bound dogs." And that's how that neighbor earned the name Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs.

Poor you.

"Do you think she's still alive?" you grinned cheekily, nudging the boy.

"Who?"

"You know..." you drawled your syllables, "Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs."

Heeseung scoffed. "Of course she is!"

"But it's been nine years!" you shrugged. "You don't know what happens in nine years."

"She wasn't that old," Heeseung reasoned. You sent him a look. The both of you collectively recalled that neighbor being a hag. "Okay, maybe we were just young, so everyone looked old to us."

You hummed. "You're right."

As the two of you approached that house, preparing to pass it, you were engulfed with silence. The neighborhood that you grew up in held so many memories. 

You and Heeseung had spent the entire walk pointing to various houses and obscure things in the neighborhood, recalling old stories of memories of the shenanigans that the two of you would have with them. Heeseung couldn't remember the last time he laughed like this. It wasn't the type of laugh that made him fall to his knees and well up tears in his eyes.

It was more like a laugh that felt mixed with a sob. In a weird way. Each laugh that tumbled from his lips felt so foreign, yet so familiar. 

The type of laugh that could only be elicited by an old friend.

And it was then that Heeseung realized that that's what you were to him. An old friend.

"I dare you to knock on Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs," you said suddenly. You loved to do this, even when you were a kid.

"No," Heeseung shook his head, hiding a chuckle. "I am not doing that."

"C'mon," you nudged him again. "It'll be fun."

Heeseung narrowed his eyes.

"And we'll get to know if she's still alive."

Heeseung looked at Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs' door.

He was curious.

And besides, it would be payback for chasing you two out all those years ago.

Heeseung sighed.

"Fine."

It couldn't be that bad, right? Heeseung and you were older now. You wouldn't be afraid of some old lady. Right?

Wrong.

Because the next thing Heeseung knew, you were carrying him princess style, running as fast as you could down the street. The both of you were cursing at the top of your lungs, shrieking for your dear lives. Heeseung's large body awkwardly draped into your arms, his arms clumsily around your neck, but the two of you were too scared shitless to care.

The moment that you reached the comforts of the Lee house, Heeseung and you caught your breath, keeling over.

After a few moments of just breathing, the two of you made eye-contact. 

At first, you just stared at each other, wondering what the fuck just happened.

But then a smile began to spread on your lips, then on Heeseung's lips, and suddenly the two of you were laughing. Laughing so hard that your stomachs hurt.

"She's way scarier than I remember!" you cried, clutching your stomach as you gripped Heeseung's shoulder for stability. 

"I— I know!" Heeseung laughed. He wiped away his tears, shoving his face in his hands. "I can't believe we just did that!"

And the second thing that Heeseung realized that day was that you, too, were a loser. 

"What’s got you smiling at your phone, Hee?" Heeseung’s dad asked him in the car one afternoon. The Lees had a short weekend getaway, and they were now on their way back. It was no denying that Heeseung had been on his phone much more than he usually was.

"Yeah," his brother nodded in agreement. "You've been texting a lot these days."

Heeseung's mother gasped. "You didn't get a girlfriend, did you?"

The whole car erupted, the tires of the Lee car skrrting against the wheels abruptly. His dad and brother whooped, while his mother excitedly squealed.

..... Except Heeseung heard none of this.

Because he had his earphones jammed in his ears, completely absent as he stared at the window.

The offense?

Heeseung was busy blasting your summer playlist.

Look, it wasn't because he liked you or anything. It was just that your summer playlist had all the songs that he liked! Maybe except a few...

The other day when Heeseung found himself in the passenger seat of your car chowing down on fast food, the two of you talked about music. Surprisingly, you had a lot in common in terms of music taste.

You guys ended up riding along the coastal highway late into the night, just sharing songs.

Heeseung remembered how the traffic lights reflected off your face, illuminating your pretty eyes. You chuckled at a few songs that came up.

"You know," you had smiled, but your brows furrowed, "Kai sent me this song when we were dating Sophomore Year."

And when another song came up, you furrowed your brows again. "I think EJ sent me this one when we were dating."

And again. "Oh! When I was dating..."

And for some reason, Heeseung couldn't bring himself to listen to any of the songs that your high school exes sent you. It could've been his favorite song, but for some reason, any association with your past lovers made Heeseung feel sick.

Heeseung couldn't figure out why he was so bothered. There were songs that he swore he could never hate, but it left such a bitter taste in his mouth that another man sent you songs.

Now, Heeseung's nose curled as he glanced at the song now playing.

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys. Everyone knew this song, so it shouldn't be a surprise that one of your exes sent you this. But still. Heeseung felt uneasy listening to it. He couldn't figure out why. It was such a weird feeling. His heart felt like it was throbbing in his chest, tightening at the thought of it.

By now, Heeseung was certain that Jay's earlier report about you having a crush on him was outdated. It's been a while since Heeseung's thought about it, and while it still made him burn up, he was convinced that even if you did like him, that was the past. There was no use in dwelling on it anymore.

His finger hovered over the skip button for a few moments, taking in the sound of the rough bass. 

Heeseung didn't know why he felt a sense of disappointment. Disappointed that you probably didn't like him like that anymore. 

Skip.

Sooo... you're not very successful at forgetting your mini crush on Heeseung. You swore that you could, especially because you thought you'd grown up.

But now as you watch the way Heeseung's big hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road while your collaborative playlist plays on repeat, you're finding it difficult to pull your eyes away from him.

He was just so... loserish. He was so awkward, and clumsy, and embarrassing, yet somehow every time you saw his grimace after he tripped over his feet yet again, it made you feel so warm.

One of your old highschool friends was throwing a party at her beach house, and you were invited. You didn't want to go alone, so you begged Heeseung to go with you. And after some hefty convincing, he finally agreed.

The two of you (mostly you) had spent the entire afternoon getting ready.

You made sure to put on your tiniest dress and tallest heels, glittery makeup across your face and curly lashes lining your eyes. 

As you fixed your lipgloss in Heeseung's rearview mirror, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

You had to sit Heeseung down and give him a lesson in fashion. He was really about to go to a party in a hoodie. His entire closet consisted of baggy t-shirts and hoodies, and while they looked damn good on him, he needed proper party attire.

You searched through his entire closet, and lo and behold, you found the compression shirt that Heeseung borrowed from his brother and never returned. 

You couldn't stop looking at the veins on his forearms, or the biceps on his arms that flexed everytime he gripped the steering wheel. You knew Heeseung worked out, but seeing his toned arms in the flesh made your cheeks feel warm.

Under his big doe eyes, pouty lips, and disheveled hair was a man.

It was hard to fully conceptualize sometimes— that you were no longer the squeaky teenage girl head over heels for your nerdy childhood friend. Instead, you were a woman, and so was he.

Heeseung's eyes fluttered over to you, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as the two of you pulled up to the house.

"I don't think I know anybody here," Heeseung sighed, wringing his fingers nervously. As the two of you got out of his car and approached the door, he groaned, "It's gonna be so awkward."

"Relax," you grinned at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Just stick beside me the entire time."

He chewed on his bottom lip. He was uneasy. You sighed, linking your fingers with his. His eyes widened into saucers, but you ignored it. You gave his hand a squeeze. 

"You're gonna be fine," you reassured, before dragging him into the party, hand-in-hand.

The moment that you stepped inside the beach house, you could feel Heeseung tense up, squeezing your hand. 

You couldn't blame him, for the bright strobe lights, booming music, and smell of sweat, alcohol, and drugs hit your senses immediately.

"Just follow me," you whispered to him. You shot him another smile. "C'mon. Let's get some drinks."

And despite what everyone liked to think, you were a law-abiding citizen. You were not about to get wasted, and you were under the drinking age anyway. You got yourself orange juice and Heeseung apple juice (something that you knew he'd like because you used to argue about it).

You found it a bit entertaining as you went around the house, saying hi to all of your old classmates and friends, while Heeseung followed you like a lost puppy. You had him hold you by the shoulders, finding it awfully endearing every time he squeezed them.

"I thought you hated her," he whispered into your ear after you just greeted someone, striking up an animated conversation with her. 

"I do," you chuckled. Of course Heeseung would remember. "She's why me and Taehyun broke up."

You heard Heeseung's breath hitch, a gasp in his throat. "Really? That's fucked."

You chuckled again. So cute. "I know."

Every time you encountered someone that Heeseung personally disliked, you could feel him gripping your shoulders. It was cute. 

"Is that Heeseung Lee?!" a squeaky voice suddenly filled you and Heeseung's ears. And the next thing you knew, Heeseung was being crowded around by a group of girls, leading him to be whisked away from you. You couldn't remember any of their names, but you definitely remembered who they were.

When you said that Heeseung was a loser, you meant it in an endearing, mean-but-not-really way. 

These girls were actual bullies in high school, and for a time, they'd bully Heeseung. If it weren't for you scaring them off everytime, Heeseung might be dead.

But there they were, crowding around and cooing at Heeseung, touching his arms and batting their eyelashes at them as if they didn't bully the shit out of him. 

"I didn't know you got so hot, Hee!"

"If I knew you'd be so strong, I would've fucked you in high school."

"What're you doing after this, Heeseung?"

You could sense Heeseung's discomfort. From the way that he recoiled from each touch, to the way his wide eyes occasionally met yours, to the way that his lips curled.

And it made your blood boil.

Not only were these the people that went out of their way to hurt him, here they were acting like Heeseung would forget just because they thought he was hot. Blatantly disrespectful.

Help me, his eyes read. And of course you did.

You marched over to where they were, creeping up behind Heeseung and grabbing his shoulder and yanking him backward away from the hoard. 

"Get behind me," you whispered to him, and Heeseung immediately complied. 

"Hi, guys!" you greeted with a tight-lipped smile. You could feel Heeseung's fingers playing with the lacing at the back of your dress, something he did when he was nervous.

"[Name]!" the girls exclaimed, but you could tell that they were unhappy with your presence. "We were just talking to ourHee."

"Oh!" You faked excitement, flashing them another smile. You narrowed your eyes at them, before reaching behind you to grab Heeseung's wrist. "Well, me and Heeseung were about to leave just now."

"Aww!" one of them whined, yet she still managed to bat her eyelashes at Heeseung, who shifted uncomfortably. 

"C'mon, [Name]!" another crossed her arms. You could tell that her tone was playful, but you knew better. "You got all the hot guys during high school. Let us have this one, won't you?"

You feigned a giggle. 

"No, sorry girl," you said in a chirpy tone. You didn't want to seem hostile. "This one's mine."

The girls blinked at you. "Yours?"

"Mhm!" you smiled again. You squeezed Heeseung's hand in yours, bringing it up to show them your interlocked fingers. "Right, Babe?"

Heeseung stared at you for a few moments, before nodding his head quickly, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. "O-Of course, baby."

You craned your neck up to gently press a kiss on his neck, ignoring his surprised yelp, before you turned back to the girls. "We'll be leaving now. It was nice seeing you!"

And with that, you pushed through the crowd of people, making a bee-line for the door and taking Heeseung with you.

The walk back to Heeseung’s car was silent. When the two of you got inside, it was still silent. Heeseung didn't start the engine or the music. He just sat there quietly.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted.

"Huh?" you cocked your head. "What are you sorry about?"

"I feel like I ruined the night," Heeseung murmured, a large frown on his lips.

"What?!" you furrowed your brows, reaching out to touch his arm. "No, no, no! You didn't ruin anything."

He continued to frown. The car shook just from how loud the music was, and you could feel the bass in your chest. 

"And you had to kiss me!" he continued, shoving his face into his hands.

You furrowed your brow. Did he not like it? Was he disgusted with you?

"You shouldn't have!" Heeseung continued rambling on, using his hands. Poor boy sniffled, and it was then that you noticed the way his doe eyes welled with tears. From the way he blinked quickly while turning away from you so that you couldn't see his face told you everything. "Now everyone is going to think that you're dating me!"

You were a little hurt. "Why is that a bad thing?"

"It's a bad thing for you," Heeseung muttered into his palms, sniffling quietly. "I'm a loser, [Name]. And you're not. What if everyone starts seeing you differently?"

Your hand ghosted over his shoulder. "Why should anyone's opinion matter to me?"

"Because!" Heeseung whipped his head over to you. With the sun setting, orange light reflected off his cheeks and red nose, as well as his glassy eyes. 

"Because....." he sighed, before stopping. "What, you don't regret it?"

You crossed your arms. 

"The only reason I'd regret kissing you is if you felt uncomfortable." You met his eyes. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

Heeseung stared at you for a few times, before he whipped his head away again. But this time, it wasn't out of shame or remorse. You could tell by his shaky voice, pink ears, and rigid body language that he was embarrassed more than anything.

"No..." he mumbled. "The k-kiss... didn't make me uncomfortable. I actually kind of— Never mind."

If you hadn't known him all your life, you wouldn't have been able to tell that Heeseung was flustered. Flustered beyond reason. If you asked him a question about superhero comics, a topic that he knew front and back, he still wouldn't be able to give a coherent answer. That was how flustered he was.

How cute.

"Hmm?" you hummed, the corners of your lips raising. "Complete that thought."

Heeseung groaned something that you couldn't understand, shoving his face back into his palms. You chuckled as you pulled him away from his hands, gently clutching his jaw and forcing him to look at you.

"I wanna know what you were going to say, Heeseung," you rasped, unable to hide the slyness in your voice.

He let out an embarrassed squeak. Even if it weren't for the orange sunlight, you would still be able to tell how red Heeseung got. The warmth emitting from his face was so strong that you could feel it. Poor boy couldn't even look you in the eye.

So cute.

"I-I..."

You hummed. "Go on."

"I was just going to say..." Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut, something he did when he was so embarrassed that he'd explode. "I l-liked the kiss."

.

.

.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued to ramble on. "I-I mean I didn't mind it that much. Itwasjustnicewhenitcamefromyouanditmademefeelreallywarmandmushyand—"

"Let's get out of here, Heeseung," you interrupted him with a reassuring smile. "We can go somewhere else."

"L-Like where?"

You grinned.

Where it all began.

"The playground?"

Heeseung gaped as you pulled him out of the car. He let you drive this time, fully expecting to go somewhere like the pier or the end of some road where it was quiet. Not the playground.

"Yessir."

The playground near your neighborhood was nothing special. It had a spiral slide, swings, rock-climbing, telephone, a basketball court, hopscotch, and then some. It looked much smaller than you and Heeseung remembered.

This was where it all started, where you and Heeseung met as young children.

Things have changed since then. The swing set has been remodeled, the sandbox removed, and the railing have been repainted with a different color from your childhood.

"C'mon," you tugged on Heeseung's arm.

Heeseung stared at you. By now the sky was beginning to turn blue and the streetlamps were on. Even so, you still managed to glow. All his life, you glowed. You glowed so bright that you outshined him, so bright that you attracted everyone like a moth to a flame, and he never understood why.

But now he did.

The mischievous glint in your eyes, the grin spread across your face, and the way you called out to him to go play— it was like nothing changed. You were still you, still the cheeky little shithead that you always were. And he loved it. He loved you. Maybe he always had.

Some things really never changed. 

"Heeseung, push meeeeeee!" you shouted from across the playground. As a kid, Heeseung loved to collect rocks. As a grown-up he thought it was ridiculous, but now Heeseung couldn't resist the call of the rocks. 

Meanwhile, you were on the swings.

"You still don't know how to do it yourself?!" Heeseung yelled back. 

"I doooon't!"

Heeseung sighed, shoving the rocks that he collected into his pockets before trudging over to you. Though, not without chuckling to himself.

After running around the playground a little bit and taking a trip down memory lane and whatnot, you followed Heeseung to the basketball courts. In your middle school days, you remembered how Heeseung would ditch you at the swings to go play basketball.

You sat next to the base of the hoop, just far enough to not get hit.

You watched in awe as Heeseung dribbled the ball, passing the orangey ball from palm to palm. He was always good at basketball. You remember pressuring him in highschool to try out for the school team. And when he made it, nothing made you feel giddier than seeing the proud and excited look on his face. That's why you went to all of his games in secret, just to silently cheer him on. Of course, you'd never let him know that.

With each flick of his wrist to shoot the ball, you couldn't hide your amazement as he made every basket.

Every.

Single.

One.

Tall, strong, talented, and a loser.

Gosh, you wanted him so bad.

Him and his nerdy little antics.

On Heeseung's end, he made sure to play his best.

Sure, he was in his childhood basketball court. Sure, he wasn't playing against anyone else. But that was exactly why he had to do his best.

You were watching.

He'd never forget how you ran up to him after seeing him hoop one afternoon, exclaiming, "You need to try out for the basketball team!"

Back then, he thought you were being mean, but your words rang through his head enough that he actually did try out for the team. And he made it.

Now that he was an adult, Heeseung realized that you were anything but mean. If anything, you were encouraging him. 

And now that you were watching him play all these years later, Heeseung had to prove to you that your words were not in vain.

"Woooooow," you drew out your syllables as you watched, silently clapping your hands at each basket. 

Heeseung chuckled, jogging up to where you were. Letting the basketball roll across the court, Heeseung crouched down to your sitting figure, wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his palm.

"You're so good at basketball, Heeseung," you said coolly, trying your best to hide the fact that you were 100% gawking at him and his sweaty face.

Heeseung laughed as he caught his breath. The smell of the night air was making him feel so alive, so bold.

"All thanks to you," he breathed as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. 

"Nah," you waved him off. "You're giving me too much credit. It's all because of your hard work."

Heeseung shook his head, lightly punching your arm. "It's your support that made me so good."

You shook your head. "Not at all."

The boy gave you a look, quirking his brow, almost like he was doubting you. "You think I never noticed you at my games?"

.

.

.

Shit.

"Y-You knew I was at your games?!" 

He knew all this time?!

!!!

Warmth washed over you.

All those times you screamed his name from across the court to cheer his name, all those times you snuck, all those times you jabbed at him for playing too much even though you spent too much time at his games.

Your cheeks felt warm as your hands found refuge on your head, shaking as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"No, no, no!" you cried. "That's so embarrassing!"

Heeseung's deep laugh made you even more embarrassed, especially the way he cooed at you and put a hand on your knee reassuringly.

"Of course I knew you were there," Heeseung said, putting a hand on his chin. "I knew it every single time. I don't think you missed any of my games."

You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, groaning. "Stooooop."

Heeseung laughed again, before clicking his tongue. He got back up and strolled toward the stray basketball.

You didn't know why, but his nonchalance and ease at picking up the ball made your heart pound. He was just so... strong.

Sure, he was a loser most of the time, but on the court, he was a completely different person.

As Heeseung began to dribble again, you had to admit that it was attractive.

With one more bounce, Heeseung snapped his head at you, meeting your eyes. 

"This one's for you."

Your heart drummed in your chest. This was the type of stuff that happened in movies, when the basketball player dedicates a hoop for their loved one. How were you a grown woman and still feeling giddy and nervous over this?

It felt like it happened in slow motion. 

You watched as the ball seemingly floated between his fingertips. The sound of the rubber ball as it collided with the concrete courts filled your ears, coupled by the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. 

Heeseung's tongue swiped over his bottom lip. With a flick of the wrist and a jump, he shot the ball up into the air. 

It stayed up in the air for what felt like an eternity, before it propelled forward.

There it was, its orange skin against the blue night sky.

And as gravity pulled it toward Earth, you held your breath.

Closer and closer, the ball inched toward the red-brimmed hoop.

And just as you held your breath...

The ball...

Missed.

.

.

.

You deadpanned.

Heeseung was going to dedicate a ball to you... and he missed the hoop completely.

That's...

So cute.

You snorted, before you keeled over, some of the hardest laughs of your entire light spilling out of your mouth. This was hysterical. You laughed so hard that your stomach hurt.

Heeseung was such a loser, and it made you feel like a little girl.

Meanwhile, Heeseung stood there, completely red in the face.

"Sh-Shut up!" he grumbled as you laughed. How embarrassing!

When you finally calmed down, you had to hold yourself back from cooing at how cute Heeseung's embarrassed face was. But you just look at him with a grin. 

"Try again."

And he did.

And it felt like suddenly the world was against him.

Just a few minutes ago, Heeseung made every single one of his shots.

And now that it actually mattered, he missed.

Every.

Single.

One.

And to make things worse, you laughed at every one of his missed shots.

"Heeseung Lee," you announced as he gave up, taking a seat beside you. "You are such a loser."

He groaned, pulling his knees to his chest. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the grasshoppers sing their hearts out. 

Neither of you wanted to move. Because if you did, it would mean one step closer to this night ending. Of course, there was always tomorrow and the rest of the summer to see each other, but to be separated even for a little bit as night passes was too long.

It felt like so much had changed, but at the same time, it felt like everything was exactly as it was left.

Feeling a stroke of boldness, Heeseung guided your head onto his shoulder, before slithering his arm to wrap around your own shoulders.

You guys stayed like that for a little bit.

Heeseung gazed at you. You could be lost in thought or dozing off, he wouldn't be able to tell.

He wanted this to last a little bit longer than forever.

Something was changing and neither of you could tell what it was.

Maybe it was now early July, and the heat was unbearable. Or maybe it was the intense scent of bug repellent that had gotten to your heads. It could be all those frozen yogurts you guys ate in your car, or the amount of shitty superhero movies you binged together.

Whatever it was, it was changing everything.

A single atom was out of place, a molecule of carbon was in the wrong spot. Heeseung couldn’t put his finger on it.

The air felt so warm, but not in a humid, suffocating way. 

More like in a rosy way, like someone put a filter over Heeseung's world and now everything was more vibrant.

Heeseung had reason to suspect that you were the culprit.

He'd known you his whole life, and it was only up until recently that he understood why people loved you so much. Because who wouldn't? You weren't just beautiful, but so goddamn incredible. In every way possible.

Heeseung couldn't explain it. He didn't think he had a crush on you. 

In all the romance books and games and movies that he'd consumed, they portrayed crushes as this magical unicorn of all things. Nervous, awkward, clumsy, and an upward battle.

But when Heeseung thought of you, he didn't feel any of these things. 

He felt at home. Comfortable, as if he could be as much of a nerdy loser as he wanted and he'd still be treated the same way. 

Unlike all what fiction would tell him, you weren't some god to him, nor were you a venerated saint. You were just you, and that was already enough to make his heart race. 

There wasn't that urge to constantly hold your hands or kiss your lips (not that he didn't think about it!).

Rather, there was a need to always be with you, to be let into your world, to listen to every thought that you had, to hear your laugh until he fell asleep.

Maybe Heeseung didn't have a crush on you, but it was certainly something else.

And it was the same for you.

You've had crushes, and you've had boyfriends.

You always felt like you needed to be perfect for them, to be drop-dead gorgeous and put-together all the time, to be the kindest version of yourself.

But when it came to Heeseung, it didn't feel like that. 

You could be as brash and annoying as you wanted, without the fear that he'd shun you. In fact, Heeseung would fight back or laugh.

While with all your boyfriends you wanted intimacy, validation, and constant reassurance, Heeseung felt safe. 

You craved nothing from Heeseung except... Well, Heeseung himself. 

And it was driving you nuts.

Help!

It was another family dinner, with both of your families, this time at your own house.

Heeseung and you sat across from each other. From when you were children until now, the two of you still ignored everything that the adults said, opting to stare and make faces at each other.

Except this time, it was absolutely impossible to look at each other without bursting out laughing. 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back a smile as you glued your eyes to your plate. If you dared to look up and even catch sight of Heeseung's hair, you'd probably laugh.

You gripped your fork. Even if you weren't looking at him, you still somehow could hear him. The way he obnoxiously and loudly poked at his food with his fork was something you always jabbed at him for, and it was still noticeable to you now. Except, instead of annoying you, it only made it harder to not laugh.

"[Name]," Ms. Lee's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up with shaky eyes, and when your eyes passed over Heeseung, you had to bite back a giggle. Alas, you weren't strong enough to hold back a smile.

"Yes?" you responded. From the corner of your eye, you could see Heeseung's nose scrunching. You sent him a quick glare, one that could only last a millisecond.

Don't you dare make a funny face or I'll spill my water all over you, your glare read. But it didn't seem like Heeseung cared.

"What have you been up to all summer?" Ms. Lee smiled. "Any summer programs?"

"No, not this summer," you answered politely. "I've just been—"

Your mother interjected, wiggling her eyebrows. "I've noticed [Name] and Heeseung hanging out a lot this summer."

From under the table you felt Heeseung kick you, but you still didn't dare look at his face. You had to bite inside of your cheek to keep laughter from tumbling out, your eyes wobbling.

"Oh, really?" Ms. Lee looked over at her son. "I didn't know you and [Name] were close, Hee!"

And this was when you unfortunately made eye-contact with Heeseung. Poor boy, his lips wobbled and twitched, trying his hardest to keep it in.

"Y-Yeah," he answered quickly, his voice shaking. That in itself was enough to make you let out a giggle. But before it could be uncontrollable, you clamped your hand over your mouth. You watched as Heeseung did the same, except this time, his face was bright red.

"That's so great!" you moms rejoiced. "We were so afraid that you guys would hate each other forever! You know, when you were kids, you used to..."

You and Heeseung tuned everyone out as they joined in the conversation about your old antics.

Instead, the two of you stared at each other, both completely blank-faced. But a simple look at you and it would be painfully obvious by the way your lips twitched that you were fighting for your life to not burst out with laughter.

And it was when Heeseung was taking a sip of water that you decided to make your attack on him. Just as he was raising his glass to his lips, you quickly made a face at him.

And just as fast as his entire face contorted, a loud laugh fell from his lips. Unfortunately for him, he still had water on his mouth. Poor boy began choking on his water, keeling over himself as he coughed up a storm. 

And while everyone was busy helping him, you were busy laughing your ass off.

You win this one, was the agreement.

"You were 100% playing dirty," Heeseung whined.

You rolled your eyes. "Who gives a fuck?"

After you and Heeseung were excused from the dinner table, the two of you went up to your room.

Currently, the two of you were just lazing around your room. Both of you were on your bed, but Heeseung laid upside-down, with his head hanging off the edge. Although you barely exchanged any words, it wasn't awkward. 

You scrolled through your socials, while Heeseung played his games on his phone. Just the two of you in your own worlds, occasionally breaking the silence to make a jab at each other or to show the other something.

"Oh my god!" you cried suddenly, tossing your phone aside and putting your face in your hands, your fingertips rubbing your temples. "What the fuck?!"

Heeseung, startled, looked at you concerned. "What happened?"

When you groaned into your palms, shaking your head profusely, Heeseung shut off his game, putting his phone away. He sat himself upright, shuffling over to you.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Bad!" you cried, sinking your head into your pillows. "Horrible! Deplorable! Despicable!"

Heeseung stared at you questioningly, his brows cocking into an arch.

"Tell meeeee," he prodded you, watching as you only sunk back into your pillows. You grabbed one of your plushies and shoved your face into it, flipping over so that you could kick your feet. 

You groaned more, before you screamed into your plush. "I hate men!"

Heeseung poked you again, this time a little bit harder. "Tell meeeee. Did your ex text you?"

"Worse!" your words were slightly muffled, but Heeseung could hear the sheer irritation. "Way, way, way, way, wayworse!"

You did this a little bit longer, before you huffed and flipped yourself over once more. Sitting upright, you saw Heeseung sitting there patiently, waiting for you to explain to him what the fuck was going on.

"Okay so," you began, wincing at the next words you were about to say. "You know how my Instagram is public? So that anyone can message me?"

Heeseung narrowed his eyes. "Yeeeeessss?"

You grumbled something under your breath, taking Heeseung's hands in yours. You traced shapes on his palms and played with his fingers, anything to distract yourself from the godforsaken things you'd have to say next.

"Well," you sighed, shaking your head. "I got a dick pic from some random guy."

Heeseung blinked.

"Oh."

.

.

.

"Wait, you got a what?!"

Yes, you really received an unsolicited picture of some guy's dick. Insane, really.

It was now Heeseung's turn to tweak out. 

"Oh my god!" he fell back into the pillows, grabbing at his hair. How ridiculous! "What the fuuuuuck?!"

"I know right?!" you fell back with him. The two of you laid like that, your heads next to each other. 

It was silent again, save for the sound of your parents chattering downstairs.

"Did you block him?" Heeseung suddenly asked.

"Nope," you sighed loudly. "Not yet."

Heeseung hummed. 

He couldn't imagine how many times you'd probably encountered this type of situation. And if this was the first time, it was already too much. If he were in your position, he'd have absolutely no idea how to react either. He'd be paralyzed, with no idea what to do! Maybe except...

"Do you want to fuck with him?" Heeseung blurted.

"Huh?"

"You know..." the boy swiped his tongue over his lips, wringing his fingers. "Fuck with him."

You looked at him, your head tilted as if you didn't understand.

"I-I mean, if this guy's going to be disrespectful, it wouldn't hurt to give him a taste of his own medicine, right?"

You nodded, understanding. "But how?"

Heeseung's nose scrunched. He had many ideas, but he wasn't sure which one was the best. "Well, do you want to have fun with it or do you want to genuinely scare this guy off?"

You thought for a second, before a sly grin made its way across your cheeks. "There's no harm in having fun. I can just block him afterwards, easy peasy."

"Oh," Heeseung said. Then, a good idea popped into his head. His lips curved. "I have just the idea for that."

"Is this okay?"

"Hmm, a little to the left."

Heeseung's plan was funny, but it also made you feel... mushy.

The idea was for Heeseung to respond on your phone pretending to be your boyfriend, something that would probably scare the other guy off. 

After a little bit of stalking, you guys concluded that the guy was a frat bro, so it would be best to prepare some pictures for evidence.

The first picture you decided to take was one that showed just a small part of your back and shoulders in bed, just enough to make it seem like you were in bed with someone. That way, it would be believable if Heeseung pretended to be your boyfriend.

So here you were, laying in bed with the blankets strategically draped over you, pretending to be asleep, while Heeseung snapped 'candid' pictures. You turned off all the lights to make it more believable, so if your parents walked in now they'd be confused as all hell.

"It's a little blurry," Heeseung remarked as he looked at the camera roll.

"That's perfect," you rolled over, facing him. "It'll look even more candid."

The next picture that you prepared was a little bit more risky, but all the more impactful.

"So... So.. Uhm—" Heeseung's cheeks burned as he explained it to you. "I think it would scare him if he thought he was messing with a super buff guy, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"W-Well," Heeseung grimaced. "If I send— like— a picture of my muscles, or something, I think it would scare him off."

You blinked. "Is this just an excuse to show off your biceps?"

"No!"

As you tuned out Heeseung's rambling, you thought for a few seconds. If you were a guy, and some girl's boyfriend caught you trying to flirt with her, what would make you piss yourself?

Well, it would definitely be any explicit indication of intimacy... Your lips moved faster than your mind.

"What if you sent a picture of you with hickeys and lipstick marks?" you gushed.

Heeseung choked on his spit, coughing so loud that you thought he would burst a lung. His face was bright red, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stared at you horrified.

"A picture of me with what?!"

"Hickeys and lipstick marks," you said casually.

"And where would I get them?!" Heeseung was going to faint. If you said what he think you were going to say, he'd absolutely combust—

"Me, duh."

Flames. Absolute flames. That's what Heeseung felt on his skin. Were you just suggesting that you could give him hickeys and lipstick marks? His heart was pounding in his chest, so loud that he could barely hear his own thoughts.

"I mean, if you don't want to, we can just—"

"No!" Heeseung interrupted you, as if he wasn't as red as a tomato. "I can take it!"

And that's how Heeseung found himself sitting on your bedroom floor, his body so hot and hands clammy as he watched you roll up his sleeve. 

Here was the plan for this picture: You'd put a few lipstick marks and hickeys on his biceps and neck. That way, he could snap a quick picture of that area alone while flexing, effectively scaring off the guy.

(Or maybe this entire plan was a very poor excuse for Heeseung to pretend to be your boyfriend and for you to kiss him.)

"Have you ever gotten a hickey?"

Heeseung's cheeks flared. "N-No."

You quickly put on your most pigmented lipstick. Slowly, you leaned closer to Heeseung's neck. He could feel your breath against his ears, making him want to squirm away. You put your hand on the other side of him so that you could stabilize yourself.

"Well," you whispered. "It doesn't hurt, so don't worry."

You brought your hand up to Heeseung's hair, gently tilting his head back to get better access to his neck. 

"Can I...?" you rasped, wetting your lips.

"Y-Yes."

And with that, your lips attacked his neck. You made sure to press on firm kisses so that the imprint of your lips would be defined on his neck. 

With each kiss, Heeseung let out a quiet whimper, his eyes squeezing shut as his arm jerked out to grasp your arm gently.

He felt like he was dreaming, because here he was, having you kiss him. No intense build-up, no dramatic reason, just because it was funny and you wanted to fuck with someone. God, Heeseung would be lying if he said he never thought about what your lips would feel like. They were always so pretty, and so soft.

All throughout his life, Heeseung had never had a romantic experience. It was his first time ever being kissed on the neck, and goddamnit was he sensitive. The way your lips pressed against his skin made him feel so weak. 

He wanted to be closer to you, closer than whatever this stupid little plan was. He craved it.

His other arm came up to slither around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"Hees— Heeseung— Ah—" you pulled your lips away, both of your hands coming up to clutch his shoulders for stability. "What are you doing?"

Heeseung's pupils were blown out. 

"Get on top of me," he breathed desperately, "Please."

"Shiiiit," you cursed under your breath, before you plopped down on his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. 

The two of you locked eyes, staring into each other's swirling pools of color. You could've been lost in Heeseung's eyes for minutes or for hours, there wouldn't have been a difference.

Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him. Not just a stupid little kiss on the neck. You wanted to kiss him on the lips, kiss him so hard that he forgot his own name.

Yeah, you had a crush on Heeseung Lee. You always had, and it seemed like no matter what, you were always bound to be downright attracted to him. God, you wanted him so bad.

Meanwhile, blaring alarms were going off in Heeseung's head. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad. He wanted to drown in you, for you to be the only thing enveloping his senses.

Except... he had no idea how to— he had no idea now to express that. And it was making his head spin.

You opened your mouth to speak, not realizing that Heeseung, too, had something to say.

"Hee—"

"I—"

Both of you shut your mouths so quickly.

"S-Sorry," you stuttered. "Go ahead."

Heeseung blinked a few times, before he shut his eyes. You watched how he parted his lips, yet no sound came out, almost as if he was searching for the words in his head to say. 

"I-I—" he started, before cutting himself off. His eyes squeezed together, his brows crashing together. You could feel his body tense under you.

"I don't know," he finally got out. "I-I— I don't know what—"

You brought your hand up to cup his cheek reassuringly. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and your thumb rubbed his cheek gently. 

"Tell me," you whispered. "Tell me, baby."

Heeseung gulped. He felt like he'd melt under your gaze, but the way you were so gentle encouraged him. Heeseung kept his eyes glued on the floor, because if he even dared to look you in the eye he'd turn to stone.

He took a deep breath. He'd tell you how you made him feel. It shouldn't be too hard, right?

But the moment that he opened his mouth, his brain turned to mush.

"I want to— I just— I don't know—" he stammered— "I wish I could— You know— It's hard to say, and—"

And if it wasn't for the way you stifled a giggle, Heeseung thought he would've gone on like this for another ten minutes. 

The moment that Heeseung realized you were smiling at his struggle, he shut his mouth, letting out a groan. He threw his head back, bringing his hands up to shove his face in.

"Shut up," he groaned. This was so embarrassing. He could feel heat prickling on his skin. His face was so hot that he thought he'd explode. "Shutupshutupshutup!"

You giggled again, this time using both your hands to cup his face. 

Despite your cool, nonchalant exterior, you were giggling and kicking your feet on the inside. 

"You're—" you breathed— "You're such a fucking loser."

Heeseung was about to tell you to shut up again, but you cut him off.

"Can I kiss you?"

You relished in the way his eyes widened, probably the widest that you've ever seen them. So cute.

"P-Please."

And with that, you smashed your lips against his. 

Poor boy, he was completely frozen at first. But as you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, you relished in the way that he let out a gasp, giving you just enough room to slip your tongue inside his mouth. You explored his mouth— every corner and every crevice was meant for you to corrupt. 

You could feel his hands fall down at his sides. Of course, a loser like Heeseung wouldn't know where to put them. As you taste his lips, you guided his hands to your thighs. He gasped again, and you took this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. As you did, Heeseung squeezed your thighs, letting out a whine.

Finally, you pulled away.

The two of you stared at each other, both breathless with swollen lips.

And as you caught your breath, you breathed, "I like you."

Maybe he would've been too stunned to speak after a kiss like that, but your words a loud "Huh?!" spill from his lips.

You grasped his chin, pulling him in again. 

"I like you," you murmured against his lips, your eyes lidded.

Heeseung's breath hitched. "I—"

"Was that what you were going to say?" you said slyly, unwilling to hide your teasing tone. A whimper came from him. "Did I beat you to it?"

You ghosted your lips over his teasingly, loving the way that Heeseung leaned forward a little bit, whining as you pulled away just enough for him to miss you.

"Just—" he murmured, "Just kiss me already."

"Gladly."

And with that, your lips crashed together. This time, Heeseung's lips were moving, too. He was a clumsy kisser, someone who had no fucking idea what he was doing. But that made the kiss even better. You've kissed many boys, but for some reason Heeseung was the best kisser you've had. You could taste him.

"Such a fucking loser," you murmured. You felt his hands slide up your waist, squeezing you.

"Yeah," Heeseung mumbled against your lips, and although his words were muffled, his voice drove you crazy. "Yourfucking loser."

Immediately you pulled away.

You looked at Heeseung, and he looked at you.

.

.

.

You bursted out laughing, and so did he.

"God, you're so cheesy!"

"Shut up!"

BONUS

You rested your cheek on Heeseung's shoulder, watching as he typed away. After all this, the two of you still needed to fulfill your plan: fuck with Mr. Dick Pic.

"What are you going to say?" you asked, nuzzling your face into Heeseung's neck. You admired the purple-pink marks littering his skin, the ones that you left. Your lipstick marks smudged when you and Heeseung were making out earlier, so you had to redo them. It was hard, because all Heeseung could do was giggle like a little girl.

"Trust me, I'll cook something up."

And cook he did.

[name]: she's busy bro

[name]: [photo]

The first photo he sent was the candid one of you.

You waited a few seconds, and Mr. Dick Pic immediately opened the message.

Heeseung hid your phone from you, so you couldn't see the guy's response.

But what you could see was how he furiously typed away.

You thought it was funny at first... until Heeseung was typing paragraphs and paragraphs so loud that you could hear his fingers tapping the scream.

"Hold on, babe, I'm fighting this guy!"

"Just block him...!"

Some things never changed.

[carmillagf]

TW blackpill-ish feminist content

Reminder that the amount of rapists and sex offenders that are never convicted has nothing to do with there not being enough evidence and everything to do with the system not caring.

Rape was a property offence, that’s the only reason it was made a crime. It’s damage to another man’s property (daughter or wife). It, and sexual assault have some kind of false or pseudo-insignificant place in law now It’s only reason for being made criminal is no longer relevant. That’s my theory as to why no one cares.

No other crime is neglected like rape and sexual assault is. the criminal system in a sense has simply given up on doing anything about it, and that’s why rapists and sex offender roam politics and policing.

Many institutions, like my high school, go as far as to defend the offender. The rapist at my school was yelled at by principles for hours, but only because he got caught again. All of their effort was put into silencing victims and silencing any discussion of it - they gave him an at-home suspension for his own safety. No other reason. I was suspended for equally as long, only because i talked publicly about it and told women to avoid him because the school wasn’t doing anything to protect them from him. He had sexually offended 9 girls, and his first victim was my best friend. She also went to the police, and despite overwhelming evidence: him confessing that he’s done it, screenshots of him harassing her, saying “did you like it when i groped you” her saying “no” him saying “good.” - despite all that, all the police did was dissuade her from making a report.

It’s not that the crime is somehow wildly different from all other crime, it’s that every man in power has guilt from whatever they’ve done, and they’ll do everything in their power to protect a man they think is like them. It’s that the system, the men in it, don’t care at best.

It’s more than that every woman knows a woman, every woman knows a story. every woman witnessed a story, just like these.

[edenfenixblogs]

I was having a rough night so I went to my favorite funny website IsMercuryInRetrograde.com

I’m not a huge believer in astrology, but the website only has two pages:

If it’s in retrograde it says yes, which feels weirdly validating.

If it’s not in retrograde it just says “No, something else must be bumming you out,” which always gives me a little chuckle.

Fun silly website. Yay.

Except this time

YES. SOMETHING ELSE IS BUMMING ME OUT.

The fact that unless I lock myself in a room with only pre-written or pre-recorded material that I’ve already read or watched and know is safe I CANNOT GO TWELVE FUCKING HOURS WITHOUT HEARING ABOUT THIS FUCKING WAR.

It’s killing me. There are no breaks. I open any website or social media app and it’s an immediate bombardment of info about the war. I go watch a YouTube video and then there’s a fundraiser at the end.

I flip through channels and see news about an antisemitic attack or a bombing in Gaza or Rafah.

I leave notifications on and get a text from a friend who sees a “rape is resistance” sticker on her walk home from school.

I go to look for pride merch and see watermelon merch mixed in as if war is some kind of gay accessory. I look through a fandom tag and see cartoon characters in a kids cartoon drawn with Palestinian flags.

It’s fucking endless. It’s insane. I just wanted a few days without having to think about all of it so I could recharge and I haven’t even been able to go a continuous 12 hour stretch without something or someone shoving the whole thing in my face.

It’s not healthy to live like this. I already have PTSD. And I’m trying with all my might not to retreat fully within myself but this is fucking killing me.

And I am someone who is pro peace and pro ceasefire and pro Palestinian welfare and anti-Likud but also anti-antisemitism. I do nothing but promote interfaith and intercultural organizations devoted to fostering peace. I want this war over.

And yet I’m fucking stuck in this perpetual hellhole of awful news and constant imagery about war and death and antisemitism and Palestinian suffering. And it’s too much. Why can’t I even go 12 hours. It’s killing me.

The fucking mercury in retrograde website‽ YES. SOMETHING ELSE IS BUMMING ME OUT AND ITS YOU.

[niningtori]

cruel intentions

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you live your life (un)comfortably in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, chaeyoung. when campus heartthrob, beomgyu, takes an interest in you, you can't help but feel like it's just a way for him to get closer to your beloved best friend. in reality, his intentions are far crueler than that. or, beomgyu agrees to get with the campus' resident dark cloud in order to win a bet with his friend.

genre: romance, angst, campus life, clichés and melodrama (as per uje)

warnings: brief mentions of reader's abusive household, reader has almost comically low self esteem

word count: 7.8k

notes: hi... r u mad at me? i know i've been gone for a month or so and definitely have other projects i've promised to work on, but i've had a lot of personal stuff going on and couldn't focus on anything. i love this trope so much tho and couldn't stop myself from wanting to try my hand at it. i'm not expecting much from this seeing as how it's devoid of any suggestive content, but i figured it'd be better to post it so you all know i'm alive. if people want a part two, i will gladly make one since i really like this trope, but i do want to know if that's the case before i write anything. anyway, i think that's it. enjoy, my lovely friends :^)

you’re okay. you really, really are. you wouldn’t say you’re happy, per se, but things are alright as they are. there are worse things than living in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, whom you love very, very much. chaeyoung is nothing if not dazzling, so much so that everyone falls flatly at her feet in the wake of one of her smiles. you are, as a matter of fact, no exception. chaeyoung has been like a savior from your unstable home life ever since middle school. she has stood up for you when you were too afraid to stand up for yourself and has become more like your family than your family ever was. even so, are you envious of the way that everything seems to go her way? you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t bother you at times, but it becomes more and more bearable every day. besides, you can’t blame her for it; she has no idea that you’re considered as little more than her sidekick and, for lack of a better term, a mob character in the colorful campus life you’ve grown to accept as not your cup of tea. 

being chaeyoung’s best friend comes with “perks” such as invites to what would otherwise be completely exclusive parties you wouldn't even dream of being considered for, but you can’t count how many times you’ve been approached with the intent of getting closer to her, so you refrain from any such affairs and opt to focus on your studies and fulltime job. in the beginning, your feelings would be hurt when men you were interested in feigned mutual attraction in hopes that they’d get closer to chaeyoung, but you’ve come to accept things as they are and you’re now known for your flatout rejection of anyone who attempts to woo you. 

these past few years, what with your heavy coursework, demanding job, and feelings of inferiority, have been grueling, to be sure, but you’re finally in your last semester and closing act of this entire charade you’ve come to call your college career. in a few months, you'll be a free woman and you’ll be able to begin your life as a fully fledged adult. chaeyoung will remain as your best friend, you know, but you won’t have to be compared to her every second since you two are set on very, very different career paths. life, as it is, feels so small and unvaried to the point of suffocation, but all of that will be over once you’ve entered the post-college workforce. or, at least, you hope it will. 

-

heeseung is lovesick, to put things in the simplest of terms. 

“i just don’t see why chaeyoung won’t give me a chance! i really, really like her,” he whines.

“i know,” beomgyu says with a roll of his eyes. 

“so why can’t you help me out?” he pouts.

“what the hell am i supposed to do about it?” beomgyu asks with a hint of irritation.

“gyu, you sit next to her and her friend in class! put in a good word for me!” he pleads.

“she’s always talking to that girl, so it’s hard to even say two words to her. you know that.” 

heeseung is, again, pouting, but the machinations in his head are firing in overtime as he searches for a solution. suddenly, his face alights as if he’s found the perfect plot. beomgyu’s wariness increases tenfold as he waits to hear whatever fucked up plan heeseung has put together.

“i know! what if you distract her friend so i can actually talk to her? and you can find out what type of guy chaeyoung likes.” he looks so earnest in this moment, but beomgyu cringes at the idea.

“dude, no. that’s fucked up,” he says.

“c’mon, i know you can do it!”

“well, yeah,” beomgyu nods in agreement, “but i’m not pretending to be interested in somebody just so you can fuck her friend. that’s wrong.”

“oh, please, gyu. we all know you’ve done worse.” he’s right. still, beomgyu vehemently disagrees. heeseung, in his desperation, can only think of one way to force him to give in: attack his pride.

“what, are you scared she won’t fall for it?” heeseung teases. “well, i can’t blame you. i heard people calling her the ‘iron maiden’ and that she won’t let anybody near her. why would she fall for you of all people?” beomgyu scoffs at his insolence.

“i could get her if i really wanted to,” he replies. “i just don’t feel like it.” 

“sure, whatever. i know you’re just scared she’ll reject the ‘great beomgyu’ and you won’t be able to keep saying you’re the hottest guy on campus.” beomgyu actually rolls his eyes at this.

“i bet you i could get her to fall in love with me by the end of the semester if i really wanted her to,” beomgyu argues petulantly. 

“prove it,” heeseung challenges with a raise of his eyebrows. now he’s got him.

“not for free,” beomgyu says with a smirk.

“... fine. what do you want?” 

“i want you to pay my half of the rent for the rest of the school year.” heeseung whines in response, but he quickly makes the calculations in his head and decides it’s worth it when he takes into consideration how fucking hot chaeyoung is. 

“deal.” 

“deal.”

and so it begins.

-

beomgyu, like most people, hasn’t really paid much attention to you before now. he barely even has an idea of what you look like, to be perfectly honest, but he can immediately figure out who you are just by looking to chaeyoung’s side as she's walking through the classroom door and seeing who’s sticking there. he takes in your features as if he’s seeing you for the first time, and he kind of is, frankly speaking. you’re not nearly as pretty as chaeyoung, and you definitely lack the aura she has, but you’re not bad by any means. your clothes are ill-fitting and your entire demeanor is soaked with an air of exhaustion, but if he looks carefully, it’s not like you’re an eyesore or anything. still, he’s considerably better looking than you are. this should be easy.

“hey,” he says softly in his baritone voice when you slide into your usual seat next to his, chaeyoung sliding in on the other side of you. to his surprise, you say nothing in response.

“hey,” he tries again, a little louder, thinking you just didn’t hear him or something.

“oh. hey,” you say confusedly before turning back to look at chaeyoung and continuing your conversation with her. well, that’s not nothing, he guesses, but heeseung sends him a knowing, goading glance from his seat and beomgyu feels himself growing irritated. 

when the professor enters, you turn to face her with a focused face and immediately pull out your pen to begin copying whatever she says down with solemnity. 

beomgyu is staring so intently, he’s surprised you don’t feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, but you don’t seem to notice a thing. before long, your professor announces that there will be a final project that will require a partner. chaeyoung excitedly grabs your arm with a grin, to which you answer her with a soft smile of your own. 

unluckily for the two of you, your giddiness is short-lived when she pairs chaeyoung with the person sitting on the other side of her, and you are stuck with the boy who randomly greeted you earlier. 

“i’m glad we’re partners,” beomgyu says with a smile as soon as the professor is finished relaying the details of the project with the class. 

“why?” you blink in confusion. 

“‘cause you’re really smart, right? and cute, too,” he chuckles. 

“oh, i guess,” you say flatly after a short pause. “when do you want to work on the project?” there is no wavering in your voice when you speak to him, and you look directly in his eyes, which is a far cry from the sweet, trembling voices and shy glances he’s used to. do you not find him attractive or something? no, that can’t be it. he’s everybody’s type. 

“i’m free tomorrow after 5. do you want to come to my place?” you tense up, but he keeps pushing. “you know, so there are no distractions?” you’re wary, of course, but you see no hint of sinister ulterior motives. besides, he can’t possibly see you in an impure way, so you agree with a low hum. 

“great. i’ll see you then.”

-

you arrive at his doorstep with your usual exhausted, haphazard look. some part of him thought you might try to doll yourself up to some extent, seeing as how you’re coming to the apartment of the hottest guy on campus and all, but he can sniff out no such effort. your hair is carelessly thrown up and your face is devoid of anything but the barest amount of makeup. your eyes are tired and there’s a permanent crease in your brows. still, he figures that complimenting you is worth a shot.

“hey, you look pretty today,” he says warmly. you do nothing but stare with a withering glance, but the grin never leaves his face.

“hi. where did you want to start?” you ask while following him to his living room and setting your bag on his couch. if he feels slighted by you ignoring his compliment, he doesn’t show it. 

“i thought we could review the rubric first and go from there,” he shrugs.

“okay.”

he makes several attempts at small talk, but they go nowhere. you are laser focused on the project and don’t even hesitate to reject any and all advances from him to the point where he’s beginning to grow frustrated. maybe you aren’t called the iron maiden for nothing, but the prospect of having his rent paid for the rest of the year is enough to keep him from giving up. he decides he’ll try a different approach.

“do you want some coffee? you look tired,” he says gently. you’re actually surprised at his observation, and he can tell. 

“yes, actually. thank you.” 

when he finishes making your coffee, he hands you a mug and you thank him while sporting a shy, grateful smile. momentarily, he’s stunned. he’s never cared enough to look for your smiles, and even if he had, he’d never see them unless you were with chaeyoung, but he realizes you look infinitely prettier while wearing one. 

“of course. if you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong? you look really tired lately.”

“i-i’m just working overtime these days. th-thank you for noticing,” you sputter nervously. seriously? his feigned consideration of your personal circumstances is what makes you flustered? well, whatever. he can work with this.

“work is important, but your health is more important. don’t spread yourself too thin.” if your cheeks felt hot before, they’re scorching to the touch now. 

“i… i’ll keep that in mind. thanks.”

he doesn't probe much more deeply than that for fear of scaring you away, but you seem to have opened up just a bit in light of his thoughtful words. when you two decide to wrap up for the night, he walks you to his doorway.

“thank you for tonight,” you mumble with another one of your rare smiles. 

“you’re welcome,” he replies with a grin. 

you’re about to walk through his doorway when you turn back suddenly. before he can ask about it, your next words come tumbling out.

“chaeyoung likes confident men, but not to the point where they’re obnoxious. she hates movie dates because she wants to talk too much during them, but she likes stargazing, preferably with a picnic, too. she won’t text first, but she’ll respond quickly if she likes you back.” he’s stunned into silence and tries to stutter out something to the effect of “i wasn't trying to get you to tell me about her”, but all you do is give a knowing stare and he realizes he’s been caught. you leave his apartment and he’s left reeling. so much for being discreet.

-

the next time he sees you, he knows he has to apologize, but it isn’t until you meet again for the project that he decides the timing is finally right. 

you’re sitting on his couch, scrolling through your laptop as you proofread what you two have written so far when he musters up the courage to say something.

“listen,” he begins cautiously. you lazily look up at him and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. 

“i… i think i owe you an apology and an explanation. i’m sorry for making you feel like i was just being nice to you so you could tell me about chaeyoung, but i really have no interest in her, i swear.” well, he’s half lying and half telling the truth, but he means it when he says he couldn’t give less of a shit about her. he can’t say he wasn’t just being nice to you in order to get his rent paid, though.

you look confused for a moment, as if you don’t even know what he’s referencing, but realization dawns on your face as you finally remember what he’s talking about.

“oh, it’s okay. it doesn’t bother me, anyway,” you reply with a shrug. 

“i’m serious,” he says firmly. “i really have no interest in her. to be honest, i’m interested in someone else at the moment.”

“oh,” you respond flatly, and you turn back to your laptop as if you’re bored and couldn’t care less about the most popular guy on campus actually having feelings for someone, for once. he snaps your laptop shut and you look up at him in surprise.

“i mean it. the person i actually want to get to know more about is you.”

your jaw drops in pure shock. 

“m-me? why?” you say, as if you can’t possibly believe that anyone could take a genuine interest in you. for some reason, he feels a pang in his heart at your sheer incredulity. sure, you’re no chaeyoung, but it's not like someone liking you is so rare of an affair as to throw you off kilter like this, right? 

“what’s wrong with me wanting to get to know a pretty girl like you?” you scoff and roll your eyes. you know you’re no trophy by any stretch of the imagination, so you have a hard time believing he means a single word.

“yeah, right,” you snort derisively. “the cutest guy on campus has a crush on me. you can’t honestly think i’d fall for that, can you? if you’re trying to flatter me to get me to do this entire project by myself, keep dreaming.” he’s surprised at your insistence. well, you’re not entirely incorrect. his intentions are impure if nothing else, but for some reason, he’s determined to prove you wrong. 

“oh, so you think i’m the cutest guy on campus?” he teases with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. as if you didn’t realize you said those words yourself, you look more flustered than you’d care to admit.

“w-well, i —” 

“i’ll take it. and no, i’m not trying to get you to carry our grade on this. i genuinely just want to get to know you better.” and he doesn't know how much of that sentiment he really means, but he does know it means more than it should.

-

after a few more meetups, you’re pretty much convinced that beomgyu truly has no interest in chaeyoung. he never asks about her, and even when you offhandedly comment on her, he never pushes to know more. he just hums in recognition or perfunctorily answers. as for believing that he sincerely has interest in you? you’re not sure you believe that, but when the project is finished within a week and he asks you out on a date, you can’t help but seriously consider this previously inconceivable thought. 

“what did you say?!” chaeyoung asks excitedly once you relay that beomgyu, of all people, has asked you to go to dinner with him. 

“i said i’d think about it,” you sigh.

“you should go! text him right now and tell him you’re going!” 

“i don’t know, chae. you’ve heard the rumors about him. he’s a player…” 

“who cares about the past?! i haven’t heard anything like that in a while. plus, it’s worth taking a chance, right? you haven’t been on a date in god knows how long. if you don’t text him, i will!” she exclaims. “gimme your phone, i’ll do it right the fuck now!”

“no!” you counter, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “i… i’ll do it myself,” you mutter.

“that’s my girl,” she says with a sweet grin.

-

“i feel stupid,” you mumble as chaeyoung applies the finishing touches to your hair. 

“well, you don’t look stupid, i’ll tell you that much. you’re absolutely gorgeous,” she boasts. 

“as if,” you mutter, but you know she truly believes it. chaeyoung has always argued that you’re beautiful, even though you know that the rest of the world, including you, doesn’t think so.

“i’m being serious!” she says with a playful smack to your shoulder. “you look hot! i bet he’s gonna drool when he sees you.” 

“alright, you’re going too far,” you say with a shy smile.

“go! you’re going to be late,” she chastises. you check the time and realize she’s right. you hurriedly grab your things and scramble out the door. 

beomgyu offered to pick you up, but you vehemently denied this on account of the restaurant being a 5 minute walk from your apartment. you need the walk to calm your nerves, anyway.

when you enter the restaurant, all bright-eyed and beautiful, beomgyu looks up from his phone in sheer shock. he knew you were actually pretty cute under the exhausted veneer you have permanently placed over you, but he never knew just how stunning you are when you don’t look like life has run you over. you’re actually wearing form-fitting clothes for once, too, and he likes what he sees.

when you lock eyes with him, you actually smile, which you have been doing a lot more lately, and he can’t help but return it with a smile of his own. it’s a little more eager and sincere than he realizes.

“you look gorgeous,” he remarks when you sit down in front of him. 

“you’re exaggerating…” you mumble embarrassedly. 

“i’m not. you’re stunning.” and he means it.

“th-thank you,” you say, and the air is thick with tension before you clear your throat and ask him if he's already ordered drinks.

the date goes surprisingly smoothly, all filled with laughter and banter. he already knew you were smart, but he realizes how funny you actually are when you’re not so tense. you match his mischievousness with your own and it feels so much like a real date that he forgets why he’s doing this in the first place. 

he’s surprised to hear that you’re actually quite interested in music. you share a mutual interest in a lot of bands and you even offer up some recommendations of your own, which he earnestly writes down in his notes app. when he mentions that he actually plays the guitar, your eyes light up in interest. 

“will you play for me, someday?” you ask excitedly. 

“of course,” he smiles softly. a lot of girls have asked him to play for them, and he has always happily obliged in order to get in their pants, but this time feels… different somehow. like he really just wants to show you how much he loves music and creating his own.

as you leave the restaurant, he grabs your hand and laces it with his. to both of your surprise, you don’t pull away and even let him gently swing your hand back and forth. you actually look like a real couple. you feel like one, too.

-

dates with beomgyu become a happy, regular occurrence. you’re not necessarily together as of now, but it’s been about a month and you’re genuinely considering something serious with him. he seems to eagerly reciprocate this sentiment if his constant invitations are of any indication. 

he suggests walking to the nearest park to sightsee, and you agree before you can even fully consider it. as you walk through the trail and take a seat on a bench in front of the pretty, sparkling pond, he locks eyes with you. you look so beautiful like this, eyes devoid of their usual exhaustion and wariness, replaced by a sense of peace. he can’t help but try his luck and lean down to, hopefully, join your lips with his for the first time. usually, he’d have tried this a lot sooner, but for reasons unknown to him, he’s treated you with a lot more care and reverence than he’s ever treated anyone before. a sudden ringing interrupts the moment, though. you casually take out your phone and all the aforementioned contentment in your eyes flushes out as you see the contact information. 

“h-hello?” you say unsteadily as you unlace your hand with his and walk away. 

he can’t quite hear what you’re saying from the distance you’re at, but he can see how wound up you are. he tries to be considerate and tune out your conversation, but when he hears you yelling and the person on the other end of the line yelling back, he can’t help but be engrossed. you’re borderline screaming now about something related to money. something about a sibling of yours, maybe. something about how you’re tired of being taken advantage of and how the other person is being unfair. you’re angry, he can tell. indignant, even, but all of that leaves your demeanor when you deflate with insincere apologies and a sense of relenting out of sheer defeat. after the explosive call ends, you walk back to him with the same exhaustion permeating through your bones that he’s become so familiar with. even though you’re dressed and primped so beautifully, nothing can cover the tiredness of your entire person.

“i’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say in a monotone voice. 

“o-oh. it’s alright. is… is everything okay?” he tries tentatively.

“yeah,” you say with the most forced smile he’s ever seen. 

“do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

you sigh. normally, you would not. normally, you’d brush it off and just call chaeyoung to blow off some steam, but for some reason, you’re so frustrated that you can’t help but want to tell somebody other than chaeyoung because you know you rely too much on her for comfort. as for that somebody being beomgyu, you, for some reason, somewhat trust that he won’t go around telling everyone about your family troubles. you also vaguely feel that he won’t judge you, either.

for his part, beomgyu genuinely seems concerned. he seems like he wants to listen. he’s shown you, in the past month that you’ve known him, that he really does notice when you’re tired and cares enough to ask about you. he tries to cheer you up with coffee and snacks even though you have refused to divulge any of the details of your personal life thus far. what’s the harm in trying to trust him? you feel like you can tell him about this, so you do. and once you do, it’s like you can’t stop.

you tell him all the dirty details of your home life and just how fucked up it is. you tell him about how you’re forced to work a full time job on top of being a full time student to help with your family back at home. it’s not that you mind helping out, but they show you no consideration or care and you’re always left feeling like you’re just there to be their workhorse no matter how many times you tell them that you’re tired. the only time they ever contact you is to try to wring every last penny out of you. your sibling, of course, is the exception, and is the only reason why you keep doing it aside from your unfettered guilt that you were practically born feeling. your need for validation has not sprung from nothing, and it seems like your money is the only way to get it from the people you reluctantly call your family. you don’t delve into details about the abuse you’ve endured, either, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. still, you can't help but love them. you just wish they loved you, too.

when you’re finished speaking, you don’t even realize that you’re crying until beomgyu gingerly wipes your tears away. oh no, you think. you’ve said too much. he’s going to be scared off just like every other guy you’ve told about your emotional baggage. who would want somebody whose life is in shambles? your self esteem is low, your financial circumstances are almost as equally dire, and you have no redeeming qualities you can think of. what have you done?

you hurriedly apologize for your outburst and wipe your tears away in a frenzy. 

“s-sorry. just ignore me,” you say with a shaky breath and he can see you folding into yourself. 

“why would i ignore you?” he asks, cupping your face. “you haven't done anything wrong. i’m so sorry that you’re being treated this way, and i’m even more sorry that you feel the way you do. you don’t deserve this, you know?” 

your eyes snap up to his at his words. does he really mean them? his eyebrows are knitted in concern and he seems like he really does care. 

“it’s… it’s okay. i’m fine. i should be used to it by now, but i’m just so, so tired all of the time. i feel like everybody on this planet just wants to use me,” you sob. “everybody besides chaeyoung a-and now, maybe, you,” you admit, grabbing one of the hands that holds your cheek. he feels like he’s been electrocuted as your words resonate in his heart. he is using you. he is planning on throwing you away at his earliest convenience once he’s done with you. 

but he’s increasingly unsure if he wants to do that, anymore. with every day that you spend together, he finds himself wanting to soak up every part of you. he wants to know everything about you. your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, and, now, what makes you feel so sad all of the time. he wants to be the one who takes away all of your exhaustion. he wants to be the shoulder you can cry on. he realizes that he never wants to see you sad ever again, and, more than that, he realizes that he’s felt this way for a while. when he began to genuinely care about you, he doesn’t know for sure, but it may have been the moment you told him how to win chaeyoung over as if you never expected anyone to be kind to you for good reasons. he realizes that he’s wanted to prove you wrong and that you’re worth giving a fuck about ever since then. 

“sorry if that’s too much,” you say in lieu of his pensive silence, pulling away from his touch, but he pulls you into a tight hug before you can fully separate yourself from him. 

“don’t be sorry. i want to hear about these things, if it makes you feel better. i want my girlfriend to trust me,” he says softly. 

“your girlfriend?” you ask incredulously. 

“well, yeah? i mean, if you want to be, of course,” he says sheepishly. 

“of course i do!” you say excitedly. you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. your lips are soft and so, so warm. warmer than anything he’s ever felt before.

-

it’s a mere month before graduation, and you and beomgyu have been together for a few months now. every day is blissful. he convinces you to relax, and his mere presence is enough to soothe your nerves. the exhaustion that previously hung around you like a curse is pretty much gone and a spark of life has finally entered your countenance. he feels proud when he thinks that he helped put it there.

every time you’re overwhelmed at work, he seems to notice before you do, and he always stops by with a meal because he already knows you forget to eat when you’re stressed. by the same token, you reciprocate this sentiment by showing up to his apartment and helping him through some of his harder coursework with no complaint, even though your workload is considerably heavier. he resists, at first, but you insist on helping as much as you can and you tell him it makes you happy just to help him a fraction of how he’s helped you. 

you don’t realize that you’ve helped him just as much. you’ve made him into a better person, unconsciously or not. you’re so considerate of his feelings and always make him feel important no matter how busy you are. he’s never felt this way about anyone or anything before, but he’s so grateful you’ve shown him how much love has to offer. love. he never expected to find it in such an unconventional way, but he knows it when he feels it. 

-

heeseung, for his part, is pretty satisfied. after months of chasing, chaeyoung has finally agreed to go on a date with him. he has promised her a picnic and a night of stargazing, which she happily agreed to. when she tells you about her upcoming date with heeseung, you’re a little surprised. what are the chances that beomgyu’s friend knew what you had suggested to beomgyu when you thought he was interested in chaeyoung? but they’re friends. best friends, even. it’s not shocking to think that if heeseung expressed interest in dating chaeyoung, that beomgyu would share what he knows. you snuff the light of suspicion out with a vengeance. hasn’t beomgyu shown you how much he really cares about you? how could you doubt him like that? you’re a bad girlfriend for even entertaining that thought.

-

it’s another dreary day in the library for beomgyu. he just wishes you weren’t working so you could hang at his apartment and make out, but he knows you’re swamped with work these days, so it’s all just a fantasy. that doesn’t keep him from indulging in it, though. when heeseung pulls up a chair next to him, he audibly groans.

“what’s with the attitude?” heeseung playfully chastises. beomgyu doesn’t need to rely on his almost preternatural intuition to know that heeseung is over the moon right now.

“oh, i know. you’re thinking about your little girlfriend, aren’t you?” he teases. 

“so what if i am?” beomgyu snaps, a little too defensively.

“hey, man, i’m just kidding. you’ve done a great job on bagging her for me. my date with chaeyoung went great, by the way. thanks for asking.” beomgyu just rolls his eyes at heeseung’s obnoxiousness, which, if he recalls correctly, was one of chaeyoung’s turn-offs. 

“i’m glad it went well,” beomgyu says sarcastically, devoid of any sincerity.

“for paying your half of the rent for months, it better have! it was worth it, though. so, so worth it.” 

“what the fuck are you talking about?” a sudden voice cuts in from out of the blue. chaeyoung. oh no. 

“n-nothing,” heeseung says hastily, looking like a deer in headlights. beomgyu can only stare with widened eyes — too shocked to do anything else.

“bullshit. you said you paid his rent because he ‘bagged her’ for you. were you talking about who i think you’re talking about?” heeseung rushes to deny it, but she turns her hardened gaze to beomgyu.

“were you fucking talking about who i think you’re talking about?” chaeyoung repeats through gritted teeth. beomgyu feels his heart sinking to his stomach. his whole world has come crashing down around him and he feels like he could just die from the shame. he wishes he could deny it, but her eyes are teeming with a sense of knowing. 

“y-yes,” he says softly while breaking eye contact with her and looking at his hands, which he didn’t even know he was wringing. a sudden burst of pain on his cheek tears his gaze away from them, though, as chaeyoung slaps him square across the face.

“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? she trusted you, and you know how hard it is for her to do that. you’re fucking filthy,” she says in rage and disgust. the librarian has now come to investigate the disturbance, but chaeyoung quickly says she’s already on her way out. before she goes, though, she sends one last damning look at beomgyu and leaves her parting words. 

“just you fucking wait until i tell her about this, you son of a bitch.” 

-

beomgyu is anxious beyond words. he doesn’t know if he should call you, text you, or show up to your apartment groveling on his knees. he doesn’t have the time to do any of it, however, before he sees a text from you saying that you’re coming over. 

when you arrive, that same old tired look you always had before meeting him is there, and it has increased exponentially. gone is the vigor you two had fought so hard to restore. oh no.

he tries to greet you, but you just hold a hand up to stop him in his tracks. you take a seat on the couch and look so tense you could explode at any moment.

“chae already told me, but i want… i need to hear it from you. is it true?” you ask shakily. 

“baby, listen, i was—” 

“is. it. true?” you repeat impatiently. 

“... yes, but i—” 

“i see,” you say with a solemn nod and a tight-lipped smile. his mouth feels dry as he waits for you to elaborate, but after a long, long silence, he realizes that’s all you have to say in the face of his deceit. he wishes you would cry, or be angry and yell at him for lying to you. it’s infinitely worse, somehow, to see you accepting it as if it was a matter of course. and, to you, it is. of course he wouldn’t like you — let alone love you. of course it was all a sick, cosmic joke. that’s what you are. this is what you deserve, and you’re an idiot for expecting anything different from him or anyone else.

“well, i guess you’ve won the bet,” you sigh, rising from your seat and smoothing down your skirt. “congratulations.” 

his eyes are watery now, but you perceive it as the reaction of a child getting caught doing something he knew was wrong in the first place. you have accepted things with the type of resignation only a truly defeated person would have, and it breaks him more than he ever supposed anything could.

“don’t be sad,” you can’t help but add when you notice his upper lip trembling. “you can smile; i know you want to. now you won’t have to deal with me anymore. i’m sorry for wasting your time.” your words snatch him out of his entranced state and he’s rushing to get his next thoughts out with a desperation he can only describe as primal. 

“n-no, that’s not it at all! and don't be sorry! i… i’m the one who’s sorry. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean —” 

“it’s okay,” you cut in with a knowing smile, which shatters the last remnants of his heart. “i understand. i really, really do. i know you’re not a bad person. it’s my fault for taking this whole thing too seriously.” your smile is still there, but it has twisted into something truly ironic and teeming with disgust. not toward him, he realizes, but toward yourself. “i should’ve known better.” 

he’s rendered speechless once again, but you don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts before walking away, closing the door lightly behind you. what words can he say to you to undo what he’s done? he wishes he could dig out his heart so you’d understand his true intentions. they were ill at first, yes, but they’ve evolved into something different entirely. something so sincere and pure he doesn’t dare to show it to anyone other than you. and you’re so calm about this entire situation, it’s driving him mad. how could you think so lowly of yourself as to see this coming? how could you think his actions were anything less than appalling and cruel? and, oh god, what has he done?

-

you’re okay. you really, really are. living in the aftermath of what you had foolishly believed was love is painful, to say the very least, but there are worse things, after all. what those things could be, you can’t seem to think of at the moment, but you know they exist even if you don’t have the energy to ponder them at present. chaeyoung, as expected, is more loving than ever. she rarely leaves your side these days. she’s always been clingy, but there is a level of doting and care she reaches without complaint on her part. beomgyu, to his credit, has seemingly taken the hint and fucked off. he doesn’t show up to your shared class and you took the liberty of blocking him on everything you could possibly think of. even it he hadn’t gotten the memo, chaeyoung is by your side like a rabid dog and she will gladly bite if he approaches. you’re grateful for that, you guess. him essentially cutting himself out of your life has made pretending like he never existed much easier. there are still traces of him, though, and they haunt you viciously. 

-

there’s a party celebrating your impending graduation, and you would rather die than go, to be honest, but chaeyoung makes such a convincing argument that you can’t help but relent after hearing her drone on and on about how you deserve to have fun and let loose since your college years are ending and you have yet to fully put yourself out there in terms of student life. you will, in all likelihood (and with any hope), never see most of these people again, so will it kill you to just let go for once? on top of that, it will be a welcome distraction from your downward spiral that inevitably comes when you think of beomgyu. 

you don’t really know what you’re doing when it comes to dressing up besides the basics, but chaeyoung knows more than her fair share and is all too willing to doll you up in a way you previously thought was impossible. after her flitting hands while doing your makeup and careful choices in wardrobe, you barely recognize yourself. for once, you feel good. you feel confident. you even almost feel worthy of standing alongside a drop-dead gorgeous girl such as your best friend, so when you enter the door of the house party, you don’t feel as small as can be under the scrutinizing gazes of all the usual party goers. one familiar pair of eyes watches you in awe, though, even if you don’t notice. you’re much too engrossed in the atmosphere of pure fun to recognize anything else.

you’re not really one for dancing — far too awkward and uncoordinated to really try it — so you sit as comfortably as you can on the decidedly uncomfortable couch and sip on what must be your third drink this evening. you’re smiling in contentment at the sight of chaeyoung dancing with her new crush. if you can't be happy, you’ll be satisfied with her happiness, instead. this is how it should be, you think. this is how it always should’ve been. 

you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t even turn your head at the feeling of the couch sinking as a boy sits next to you. that is, until he clears his throat and you’re snapping your eyes up to meet his.

“i’m taehyun. i’ve never seen you around before,” he casually remarks. he’s really beautiful, like, fresh off the runway beautiful. you almost wonder if he’s talking to somebody else for a second, but his expectant eye contact with you tells you otherwise. you shyly introduce yourself and mumble something about parties not particularly being your scene.

“really?” he smiles. “that’s a shame. i wish i’d seen you before tonight.” you can’t help but blush. “i’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright.” you’re not so stupid as to fall for a man with honeyed words, at least not again, but you find yourself caring less and less about the repercussions as your head feels foggier and foggier. so what if this is a sick joke? you’re almost out of this hellish purgatory you call school life, anyway. even if taehyun doesn’t end up liking you, what’s the harm in indulging in a little fun while you can? you’re not going to put your heart on the line again — you’re too jaded for that — but maybe you can enjoy his company for what it is, no matter how fleeting it may be. so before you can think any better of it, you agree. 

or, at least, you try to, but your sentiment is cut short with a sharp tugging of your arm.

“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you hiss as he leads you to an unfortunate-smelling bathroom.

“i-i need to talk to you,” he replies sheepishly. 

“what’s there to talk about?” you ask with a sigh. “i’m not mad at you. i forgive you. so what else do you want from me?” you actually seem a little annoyed, which he has never seen before from you. it causes him to sputter and almost lose his train of thought.

“you know what i want to talk about…” he says meekly. 

“oh? the fact that you dated me and said you loved me because of a bet?” you can't help the bitterness that laces its way around the edges of your words.

“yes, it was for a bet, but then it wasn’t about that,  anymore. i really did fall for you. i… i love you.” 

“i don't believe you.”

“b-but i mean it! how can i make you trust me?” his voice is overrun with desperation, but you quirk your eyebrow at his words.

“you can't make me do anything. i don't know what you're getting out of this, maybe some sick satisfaction that you can pick me back up again at your leisure? maybe you just feel bad for me? whatever it is, i don't care anymore.”

“no! listen to me, i really do care about you! i know i hurt you, but let me be there for you. i… i'll prove to you how much i care. how much i love you.” you're quiet for a long, long time. an excruciatingly long time. you seem to consider every syllable he just uttered, but you don’t seem fazed by his sincere words at all, and he worries he's losing you for good. before he can stop himself, he gently cups your face in his hands and tenderly runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks. you don't push him away and, for that, he’s grateful.

“alright. alright, i do believe you. i believe you love and care about me,” you admit with a sigh. he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding in before he presses his forehead against yours. thank god you believe him. maybe you don’t trust him yet, but he’ll do everything in his power to earn it back.

“i believe you, but it’s not enough,” you say resolutely, grabbing his hands and prying them off of you. his heart sinks and he can’t help but feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

“i forgive you, i really, really do, but you can't treat people however you want and expect things to go back to the way they were just because you’re sorry. i can’t… i won’t accept that.” he winces and he makes no move to stop his tears from falling now, but he bites his lip to stop the whimpers.

“you know me. you know how hard it is for me to… to believe that i’m worth loving.” he flinches at your self-deprecating words and he wishes he could kiss your face and erase any doubts of your worthiness. you are the most lovable person in the world to him. he wants to shake you and demand that you see it, but what right does he have to do so? instead, all he can do is shake his head furiously in denial of your sentiments.

“and everything you said, everything you did, just makes me believe that i’m right about myself. even if you mean it now, i can't get over the fact that it was all a lie from the start. if you love and care about me like you say you do, don’t you think i deserve better than that? better than having to be reminded that the person i love the most in this world only chose me because he wanted to get his rent paid?”

“i’m… i’m so sorry,” he repeats with a whine. “i wish i could go back in time and redo everything.”

“but you can’t,” you say softly, and he whines again, like an animal. 

“i promise… i promise that i really love you, okay? and i’ll wait for as long as i have to for you to see that,” he says between sobs. you can’t help but feel sorry for him. you’ve seen beomgyu cry from stress, but never from the pure, unadulterated amount of pain he’s feeling as of now. you almost want to acquiesce and let him have his way, but you can’t do that. you don’t have much dignity to speak of, but even you can’t tolerate a betrayal this sizable. maybe, before you met him, you would have, but ironically enough, his presence has taught you that you should never compromise yourself like that for anyone. not even for the one you love the most.

“thank you, beomie,” you say softly, “but i don’t want you to wait for me. i want you to be happy, okay?” you ask as you stand on your tiptoes and press a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “and i’ll try to be happy, too.” without waiting for an answer, you leave the bathroom and shut the door behind you. 

“i don’t want to be happy if it’s not with you,” he mumbles bitterly, but you’re too far away to hear it.

notes pt. 2: is this cheesy? YES. do i care? ONLY A LITTLE BIT. anyway like i said lmk if u want a part two <3

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @zzhyuu @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @defnotleee @midwinterblizzard

*if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist or my taglist for the (maybe) upcoming next part, lmk!

[ficcerspam]

Tim has noticed something odd, about the Demon Brat.

Sometimes, the Demon Brat would look to his left, as if to start a conversation, or as if anticipating someone saying something, only to freeze. Just for a moment, a half second, because nobody was there, before looking away with painful expression. 

Months later, Tim decided to stand there, just to see what would happen. The brat didn’t look at him once, and Tim found that curious, and odd.

Another odd thing about his new, murderous brother, is that he refuses to look into the mirror. That’s not true, exactly: he would look in the mirror for basics, for necessities. 

Tim realized, months of observations later, that the brat didn’t look himself in the eyes. 

Strange. 

Tim had asked him, once, why he didn’t. As expected, all he got was a “It’s none of your business Drake.”

But that didn’t stop Tim from wondering. Tim is, if nothing else, curious to a fault and persistent to an illegal degree. 

And so the strangeness would continue, and Tim would wonder.  

The brat would look to his left, pause, and then look away. He would deftly avoid mirrors, and when asked why he would sneer and avoid those questions, too. 

Until he didn’t. 

Until he came back to the Cave battered and beaten, some dreary autumn day, the Demon Brat unusually sullen and quiet and off his game. He had sat through the lecture Bruce had given him, and sat through the quiet reaching out from Dick, and sat through the cajoling teasing meant to rile him up, to get him to say or do anything per the norm, with an unusual aplomb.

The brat apologized, said he was fine, and ignored the rest. He told Bruce he wouldn’t patrol tomorrow, and would stay home from school, because clearly he wasn’t feeling well. 

 It was like Damian wasn’t there, fully. 

So when Tim saw that the brat’s door was open, the next day, he peeked in. 

Of course he did. 

And there the brat was, sitting in front of the full length mirror he usually had covered with a cloth when it wasn’t in use, reaching up and staring directly into his own reflection’s eyes. 

“Demon Brat?” Tim asked, stepping in and concerned about the look in the other’s face. There was no answer. 

“Damian. What’s wrong.” Tim stood behind the boy, watching as Damian touched the corner of his own reflection’s eye. 

“The color’s wrong, Drake.” Damian finally said, matter of fact and almost broken, absent-minded. 

“What?” Tim asked, trying to see what he was talking about. Nothing was wrong, nothing was changed. Damian met his eyes through the mirror for a long moment, but Tim didn’t understand. 

“The color.” Damian reiterated, looking at his own reflection again. 

“The color? Of what?” Tim and Damian were never close, not really, but he was starting to feel like something was slipping away, in this moment. Damian dropped his hand, and finally looked away. 

Without answering, the boy got up and carefully draped a cloth over the mirror, ushering Tim out of his room silent as the dead. 

“Leave me be for today, Drake.” Tim reached, opened his mouth to try and say something, because something was wrong, but what? 

But Damian simply shut the door softly. 

The sound of the lock engaging felt strangely, and utterly, final in a Manor full of lockpicking detectives.

Tim laid a hand on the door, and mourned. 

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[thevirtualvalentine]

His favorite things 2 do w u !

ft: Atsumu Miya, Shōyō Hinata, Kozume Kenma, Ushijima Wakatoshi, & Kiyoomi Sakusa.

warning(s): tooth rotting domesticity, gn!reader + no pronouns used, nudity in kiyoomis (you shower together), nerd!shō (canon), autistic coded kags, established relationships. thrown in kenma bc I love nerds.

notes: hq has me in its cold slimy grip, sos. Divider by @dollywons !

Being a pro-athlete makes him oh so busy! He’s so grateful to have a honey at home who loves him.

ATSUMU MIYA … helping him redye his hair. Around every month and a half ‘Tsumu and you take on the task of making him a fake platinum blond. He can thank you for the correct mix of toners to rid him of that nauseating yellow hair.

While it may be about him, he’s watching you intently in the mirror. The way you take care of him and make him feel oh so handsome. He’s used to getting the job done himself, but he trusts you and wants you to be there for him in this small gesture.

During those 2 hours, the world is silent and it’s just you and him in your shared bathroom. You donning one of his old shirts and nothing else while you, “make him sparkle.” He really is a diamond in the ruff, in need of your polishing.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA… doing nail care together. While yes, it sounds peculiar, we all know how deeply Tobio cares about the state of his hands. They’re fundamental to his everyday life on and off the court. After watching him prep the night before a game by filing his nails, you asked him to let you help. “Here baby, let me,” you offered, taking his much larger palm in your own as you round out the shape.

It became a habit between you not long after, body doubling as you both take care of your hands or trading off doing each other's. It’s a simple thing really, but he can’t help the light smile that finds him in those moments. Tobio can’t explain in words why it makes him feel so loved.

But you know his true feelings as a quiet show functions as white noise in the background, his hand in yours prepping for yet another match. He appreciates the intimacy of silence together.

SHŌYŌ HINATA … watching One Piece together. Growing up, Shōyō didn’t have friends who engaged in his interests as deeply as he did. It took you 5 months into your relationship to realize he also liked the show because he was scared you might tease him.

It led to a deeper conversation about things you both liked and the two of you have been closer than ever. Engaging in each other’s hobbies even if you didn’t know what it was about.

Now, it’s a ritual you both do every Sunday when the new episode drops. It’s shared y/n & Shō time. A sacred pact of nerds that cannot be broken. He loves that you’ll share his love for life with him, even the nerdier things.

KOZUME KENMA … cooking dinner together. Even when he was playing volleyball in high school, Kozume did not care too deeply for his nutritional intake. Food was just food, a meal was another part of the day. Even with all the money he makes now, he's ultimately unfazed by high class food. Preferring those shitty frozen dinners he can make in the comfort of his apartment.

Then he met you on campus, and the day you cooked something for him he swore he would never eat anything again if it wasn’t made by you. Maybe that phrase, “made with love,” was true when it came to you.

Now he likes to help out, meal prepping here and there. He’s quite good at cutting up vegetables actually. He’ll watch or even stand behind you with his arms snaked around your waist at the stove observing.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA … work out. We all know volleyball is a big aspect of Ushi’s life. He’s constantly conditioning himself for the perfect physique. When he discovered that you had a similar passion for building and honing your body to its fullest capability, he was whipped.

He found it hard to be understood by others, but he really does just enjoy the simple things. Playing volleyball, working out, and coming home to you. It’s enjoyable to him to be able to do it with you and gives him greater motivation.

Every endurance run, you’re by his side and he certainly doesn’t mind altering his pace for you. It gets him a little worked up to see you sweating and out of breath though, but he’ll keep that to himself for now.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA … you guessed it, showering together. Because he grew up around sweaty boys playing volleyball all day, Kiyoomi knows not everyone is as concerned about their personal hygiene as he is. In a country full of Neanderthals, he wears the crown. But when he comes home from practice, there is only one thing he wants to do. Shower with you.

There’s something so intimate about you taking care of him in such a vulnerable space. He’s much bigger than you are, his broad shoulders from years of spiking looming over yours. Warm steam mixed with eucalyptus leaves fills his senses as you hum, scrubbing his body of any dirt from the outside world.

Your soft hands wash the tension from his body, your nails scrape against his scalp making him feel loved. He’ll never admit it but he says it’s because he likes to be clean, It’s truly because you’re the one cleaning him.

[ayochae]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐔𝐩| 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Synopsis: you damage the school bully's car, and now you have to repay her the way she likes.

Pairing: bully! aeri x student! fem reader

Genre: pretty rough smut ig

Themes: exhibitionism, biting, hair pulling, lots of cussing, name-calling, phone sex, fingering, cunnilingus, rough handling, and straight-up humiliation.

T/W: please read before continuing!! dubcon, heavy degrading, and bullying mentioned!

WC: 2.4k

a/n: the themes in this are on the darker side so please be aware before reading! disclaimer this is pure FICTION and not meant to be taken seriously! if you or anyone you know are in a similar situation please reach out and seek help (.づ◡﹏◡)づ. also if this is well received I might make a pt 2 to this :3

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It was the end of the school day, and you were glad to be going home. You were sick of enduring long days of studying and listening to boring lectures, often forgetting to pay attention. You made your way out with the crowd, finding your bike chained exactly as you left it this morning. It was never fun having to ride home, especially in the summer when the humidity was an absolute killer, often leaving you hot and bothered. 

You mounted your bike; it was a sunny afternoon, and the sun's rays were ricocheting off windows and car mirrors, blinding you at times. In an attempt to shield the light from your eyes, your arm was outstretched in front of your face. Consequently, it blocks the majority of your vision. Not the most favourable of conditions for someone riding through a crowded school car park. It would be the worst way to end your day if you were to crash right now. 

And of course, as soon as that thought crosses your mind, it all comes to fruition.

In a split second, your ass meets the rugged concrete. That's the only indication you need to know you’ve just crashed. You struggle to find your footing, shaken up from the event that just occurred. Your eyes hesitantly glaze over your surroundings, seeing that your bike has managed to dent a student's parked car. One look at the licence plate, and your heart sank. You couldn't have hit anyone else's car; of course, you just had to hit Aeri Uchinaga’s. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” you yell out in pure frustration, both hands on top of your head. Your outburst garners some attention; students watch as you cuss to your heart's content.

"Yo, that’s Aeri’s car she’s just fucked up…” a group of boys said amongst themselves. 

“I would think about running if I were you,” the boys laughed. 

“Who should think about running?” A shiver ran down your spine. That voice was the one thing you didn’t want to hear right now. You turned around and locked eyes with the brunette, her menacing features staring your way. Aeri made her way towards you, anxiety pulsing through your veins and leaving your heart racing. She pushed past you like you were nothing, eyeing her car up and down, assessing the damage. 

“Aeri I’m so sorry. Please give me a chance. I’ll pay you bac-” You started to get out an apology before she firmly shut you up. 

“Shut up, bitch,” she cut you off, venom in her tone as she spoke. At this point, people started to crowd around, everyone here to watch you meet your demise. You knew exactly what happened to people who did wrong by Aeri, so let’s just say you were pretty confident you were going to die today.

“Do you know how much that car costs?” She questioned, arms crossed along her chest as she stared daggers in your direction. 

“Um,” your voice wavered.

“More than you’d ever fucking know,” she cuts you off again, clearly not interested in anything you have to say. At this point, you accepted the fact that she was going to beat the ever-living shit out of you. But you were surprised when her fist didn’t meet your face; rather, it gripped your wrist with excessive force. She squeezed you tightly as she dragged you through the crowd. Students had their phones out to record as she pulled you through the swarm of bodies, dragging you back into the school’s main building. She wasted no time finding an empty classroom at the end of the hall, pushing you in, and slamming the door behind her. 

"Strip,” she demanded as you stared at her, dumbfounded at her sudden request. 

"Sorry, I’m not quite following...” you said, hoping that you must’ve misheard. 

“Are you dumb?” her head cocked to the side, glaring at you. 

“I can easily take you back out there and give the people what they want y/n” she added, walking towards you, feeling your breath hitch. You stood there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. Your mind was racing with all the possibilities; there was no way you got out of this unscathed. 

“I know you heard me slut, take your fucking clothes off” she spat, grabbing you firmly by the collar, pushing you hard against the desks behind you. Your body aching from the sudden contact, shaking you back to reality. 

And so you complied, the only thing you were able to do at that moment. Shaky hands travel to your blouse buttons, slowly unbuttoning as Aeri watches. Your pace angered her, growling in frustration as both of her hands grabbed either side of your shirt, ripping it open. The sound of buttons dropping to the floor as a pair of lips connect roughly with yours. Her weight pressed against you as warm hands travelled up your sides, finding your breasts. You quickly pull away from the kiss. A whimper escapes your mouth as her hands squeeze your cladded breasts firmly, discarding your shirt to the floor in the process.

"Aeri, I have to get home” was the only thing you could let out as she continued to fondle you. Not letting your excuses slide, she grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, bending you over the desk. Your face meets the surface hard and fast, letting out a groan from the immediate pain.

“Keep talking, and this is going to get a lot harder for you, sweetheart” she leant over to whisper in your ear, the pet name causing you to moan ever so slightly. She quickly worked on your skirt, pulling it down so you were in nothing but your undergarments. 

"Aeri please, we’re going to get caught,” you muttered, scared shitless to be found like this. 

"Tch, you can’t even follow a simple rule; you really are a dumb slut, aren’t you?” She scoffs, feeling her harsh gaze in the back of your head. 

“I think you're already forgetting that you owe me, y/n” she points out, her hands swiftly unclasping your bra as she speaks. 

“So how about you be a good little slut and listen?” She mocks, tightly gripping you by the hair, pulling you up to face her. Your eyes meet hers, feeling the heartbeat in between your legs. A wave of pain hits your senses as her hand slaps your ass so hard that it's sure to leave a mark. You whimper at the contact, your hips jolting from the sudden force. 

Her hands travel to your waistband, pulling your panties down to your ankles. She gets on her knees and rubs your wet folds from behind, coating her fingers with your slick. You moan from her touch, loving how it felt to have her play with your now-swollen cunt. Her slender fingers tease your entrance as you shake underneath her. Her hands grab your ass as she plunges her face into your pussy, eating you out from behind. Feeling her warm tongue roam along your folds, sucking and licking where she pleased. She planted long, warm stripes with her tongue, nudging your clit as she went. The repetitive action had you senselessly jutting your hips, begging for more friction. 

“Does my little bitch like that?” Aeri hummed, her face still buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Y-yes” you choked out, struggling to form your words amongst the pleasure. She continued teasing your clit, earning shaky moans from you in response. Giggling to herself when you got too loud. You could feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach, gripping the table in desperate support. You were getting close, letting profanities mindlessly slip from your mouth, feeling Aeri smile against your pussy in response.

And that’s when you felt her stop. 

She pulled away, smiling as she licked her slick-covered lips. Wiping the excess on the back of her hand. You shudder from the loss of contact, missing the way her tongue felt. 

“You thought I was gonna let you come that easily?” she teased, flipping you over so you would face her. She locked eyes with you and shook her head with a sarcastic pout on her lips. Trying to get a rise out of you. You knew she was an absolute bitch, but this just took it to a whole new level. 

“Suck,” she said while holding the same fingers she pleasured you with in front of your mouth. Her other hand firmly gripped your jaw, inciting you to open your mouth for her. And so you obliged. You took her fingers, sucking on them eagerly, tasting yourself in the process. Hands wrapped gingerly around hers as you continued to make work of your tongue. Her eyes locked with yours, her mouth sporting a shit-eating grin. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” She cooed mockingly, an eyebrow raised as she watched you suck on her digits. She pulls her fingers out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips to her coated fingertips. Lustful eyes watch the lewd scene unfold in front of you. 

She replaces her fingers with her lips, kissing you firmly again, giving you a complete taste of your release. Your arms are propping you up as she pushes her weight against yours, towering over you in the process. Her hand travelled back down between your thighs, rubbing your dripping cunt, teasing your entrance as she went. Her other hand gripped your inner thigh, keeping your legs open to allow her more room to work. 

You pulled away from the kiss. A breathy moan left your lips as you felt two fingers inserted inside. Your mouth is now ajar from the sudden penetration. Amusement spread across her features as she began pumping her fingers in and out of you, watching you twitch and whine under her. 

"F-fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back, feeling waves of pleasure wash over you. Aeri took this opportunity to attack your neck, biting down hard on the soft flesh. Yelping as teeth dug into your neck, pain shooting down your shoulder as she sucked and bit persistently. Her fingers were still at work, filthy sounds filling the room as she fucked you with more force. Plunging her fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, feeling you clench tight around her.

“That’s so fucking good,” you whine, feeling her smile as she continued leaving angry marks on your neck. Her thumb drew circles on your clit as she fucked you senseless. The desk banged against the wall as her fingers thrust in and out of your sopping pussy, the sounds sure to be heard by others. Your hips shamelessly buck at the tempo of her thrusts, getting closer and closer to your release. 

Until the sound of a ringing phone brought you back down to reality. 

You recognised that ringtone as your own, your eyes searching for the whereabouts of your device. Remembering that you left it in your skirt pocket, watching it vibrate on the floor beneath you. Without missing a beat, Aeri bends down and pulls it out with her unoccupied hand, the other still hard at work inside of you. 

“Nawww mummy’s calling,” Aeri teased, your heart dropping as you watched her handle your phone. 

“Aeri please don't answer that,” you beg, watching her thumb hover over the pick-up button. But of course, it was no use trying to persuade the likes of Aeri Uchinaga, because whatever she wants, she gets. And in this moment, she desperately wanted to ruin your life. 

You helplessly watched her answer the call, immediately putting you on speaker for your mother to hear. Your mother didn’t care for greetings; rather, she demanded your whereabouts and why you weren’t home yet. Your heart raced; it simply wouldn’t do you any favours being truthful at this moment, honesty is sure to get you killed. Lies began to spill from your mouth, hoping it was enough to get her off your case, but Aeri was having none of that. 

Her fingers managed to find a quicker pace, the desk hammering against the wall as she rocked you harder against her digits. Moans slipping out uncontrollably, your hand flying up in an attempt to muffle your sounds. Aeri glared in your direction, unimpressed with your endeavour to foil her plans. She placed the phone above you on the window sill, freeing her hand to trap both of yours, stopping you from muffling your sounds. 

Her fingers curled, hitting that sweet spot, making you squeal in delight. Your mother was sure to hear everything. Your face was heating up, embarrassed but impossibly turned on at the same time. Unfortunately, your mother wasn’t stupid; she was very much aware of what you were doing right now, and she hated everything about it. 

“Y/n get your ass home right this instance!” her voice echoed in anger. Aeri reached up, ending the phone call in one swift motion. You felt hot tears stream down your face, Aeri laughing at your current state, finding joy in breaking you like this. 

“Fuck you,” you let out, hating how powerless you were in this moment. Aeri just continued pushing her fingers deeper inside you, hitting all the right spots as she went. You were unable to choke back the moans, letting the lewd sounds fall out in a flurry. She was fucking your brains out, all frustration and anger dissipated as she curled her fingers inside you. The moans became more frequent and higher-pitched, throwing all self-respect out the window as you whined her name. 

"Mmffh, Aeri please…” you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows furrowed as you felt the knot begin to untie in the pit of your stomach. Her thumb pressing down on your clit and the final curl of her fingers were all you needed to start seeing stars. You shook violently as you came crashing down, her fingers moving inside you at a slow and steady pace, letting you ride it out. 

She removes her hand from your dripping folds and shoves her fingers inside your mouth, swirling them as you taste your sweet release. Her dark eyes locked with yours, her shameless grin not once faltering. You made sure to suck her fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as you release her slender digits. Her hand travels to your jaw, tracing your lips as she eyes you up and down. 

“Get on your knees and make that pretty mouth of yours useful.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 6

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

As unsurprised as you were when Faye shunned you, you’re even less put off by her sudden reappearance. She does this. There was a whole month in high school when suddenly she was too busy trying to fit in with the local Regina George and her minions. You know she only came back then because she had to work to impress them. 

You’re not insulted. You know who and what you are, even without her father reminding you. You reread the text, tempted to hit those three dots and tap gleefully press ‘block’. You’re still friends, even if she can be a shitty one. You care about her.  

‘Can we meet?’ 

You already have your response typed in; ‘where?’ You’ve been trying to send it for the last hour. Something keeps you from push your thumb against that arrow. Is it worth it this time? 

Before you can think too much, your phone vibrates again. Almost as if she can sense your doubt. ‘Please. It’s serious.’ 

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck. As if you don’t have enough to deal with. 

You send the text and grab your bag. The kids are already asleep, your mom’s here, probably sleeping too. You hurry to the door without a response. This is it. The last time. You’re going to tell Faye exactly that. Next time she can call her dad. You don’t need the trouble. Besides, she’s doing all this to piss him off, it has nothing to do with you. 

You put your shoes on and leave as quietly as you can, double checking the locks behind you. You stomp down the front walk as the streetlights shine down and head down towards the bus stop. Your phone shakes. What the hell? 

At least it’s close. You read the address again. You know it. Two blocks away on Wilmington; dealer district. This isn’t good. 

You put your chin down and set your eyes ahead of you. Don’t look at anyone, just keep going. You sling your purse around your body, keeping your hand on it. You have your phone firmly in the other. 

Wilmington. Even your mother has enough sense to warn you against going around there. You head down and count the numbers from the corner of your eye. You slow as you near the house in question. What do you do? Knock on the door? You don’t know if that’s a great idea. Looks like a flop house. 

You hear your name and a shadow ripples on the crooked porch. You look up as a dark figure staggers to  the top of the steps. Faye looks willowy and drawn out as the moonlight hits her skin. The skin around her eyes baggy and discolored and she’s wearing the same outfit she wore to the club. 

“What the hell?” You hiss as you march forward. She stumbles down the stairs and you barely catch her, “Faye?” 

“I’m sorry. I was scared,” she murmurs as she latches onto you, “you gotta help me.” 

She reeks, she’s shaking, and she’s slurring her words. 

“Are you high?” You whisper at you hold her at arm’s length. 

“Not anymore,” she sniffles, “please, my head is killing me.” 

“What the fuck?!” You barely keep from shrieking, “how-- why the fuck would you do that?” 

“That guy... we were just snorting a little and then... I don’t know. I can’t remember.” 

“Faye,” you whine, “are you out of your mind?” 

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t...” she shakes her head and her voice drifts off, her frazzled eyes dimming, “I don’t know...” 

She scratches her arm and you notice the scabbing there. You sigh and shake your head. You’re so tired of this. As if you don’t have enough to deal with at home with three siblings. Faye isn’t your problem, she won’t be after this. 

“Fine. I’ll take you home. Your dad can deal with you--” 

“No, please. You can’t,” she pleads and grabs you again, “I can’t-- He’ll kill me.” 

“Faye, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I don’t have anywhere else to take you.” 

“I’ll stay in your room--” 

“No,” you say bluntly, “I have work and my siblings can’t be around you like this.” 

“Why are you being so mean?” She whines. 

You grit your teeth and look around as you hear voices from unseen mouths. You exhale and grab her wrist, dragging her hand from your arm. 

“Let’s get out of here first,” you turn and tug her after you. “Fucking Wilmington? Wilmington?” 

“Please, don’t be mad,” she snivels, “my dad’s gonna lose it if he knows. I need you. I need you to be nice--” 

“I need you to stop fucking me around,” you snarl, “don’t you understand? Every dumb shit decision you make her brings down on me?” 

“Huh?” She staggers heavily in her dirty wedges. 

“Your fucking dad. Thinks he rules the whole damn world. And who is he gonna blame for this? You’re in my neighbourhood. You think I want to deal with him?” 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. 

“You’re not,” you insist, “this is the last fucking time.” 

“Please--” 

“No, Faye,” you spin on her as you turn off of Wilmington. You have to keep yourself from shoving her, instead letting her go and throwing up your hands. “You have everything. You get to go back to school, you get to go home to your nice little suburban castle, you get to have your dad pay for it all. I have to go work at the goddamn grocery store and watch my life spin down the fucking sewer. I get to lay awake at night and worry if my siblings are gonna end up over here or if my mom’s going to come home at all when I haven’t seen her in two weeks!” 

You ball your hands to fists, overwhelmed by the eruption of repressed emotions, “you get to smile and cry and get out of it all.” 

“I...” she breathes, “I... didn’t know--” 

“You never cared. Never listened,” you drops your arms and slump. “Go and live your life. Live it up in college, move somewhere nice, get married, do all that fun shit. I’ll stay. I don’t get that choice.” 

The roll of tires near as you stand in tense silence. Faye mopes and hangs her head, swaying and scratching, “can I just stay one night?” She whispers. 

You sigh again. 

You sense a car draw up to the curb. Great, some jackass thinks you’re a street walker. You’re ready to tell him to fuck off but swallow the sneer. You could still say so. 

Walter steps out on the other side of the car, “Faye,” he snarls. 

“See,” you turn to her again, “don’t you realise who he’s going to blame now?” You face the man’s broad shadow, “don’t worry, Mr. Marshall, I was just telling her to go home and never come back. You win. I quit.” 

“Both of you, get in,” he growls. 

You scoff and Faye cowers behind you, “daddy--” 

“Faye, just go,” you try to nudge her ahead of you, “I have to go home.” 

“I said both,” Walter stomps around and rips open the back door. “In.” 

“Here, she can go--” you urge Faye towards the backseat as she fights weakly.  

As you push her head down and she surrenders, curling onto the seat, you’re shoved from behind. You barely keep from hitting your brow on the metal and throw your arm back at Walter. He catches your wrist and twists your arm behind you. 

“It’s late. I’m on duty. I can’t leave you here,” he insists. 

“What do you care?” You hiss and fight him. 

“Don’t make me get the cuffs.” 

You recoil at his threat and fall inside the car. You turn back to sneer at him but his face in covered in black shadow. Your nostrils flare and you shake your head. You bite down on a million insults and pull your legs inside. 

Once he has Faye safe, you’ll figure a way out. 

[timbit-robin-art]

I saw your Mio doodle and now I wonder about a Light Music Club X-Men Edition.. Scott can be on drums he'd be so good at keeping time... whatever Ororo is on (because she'd slay at every instrument) she has to ALSO be on vocals because I believe that's just canon..

maybe Logan can be their roadie

Ah, K-On. My one weakness. I went a little overboard when picturing this, so whoops.

I imagine this being in a universe where there’s still mutants, but Xavier isn’t making them use their powers to fight. Instead, the institute is for learning how to control their powers/providing refuge for mutants who have nowhere else to go, and they go to a mutant/normal human mixed private school for normal education.

Here’s some of my ideas for the club members so far:

Ororo is the bass player and lead vocalist. She’s been inspired to be in a band ever since she lived on the streets as a little kid, where she saw a bass player performing live. Freshmen year of high school, she hears someone absolutely going ham on the drums, and finds Scott playing on his own. It took a while, but she finally convinced Scott to join her. She’s the heart and soul of the group, and main character along with Scott. I don’t see her living at the institute, though Xavier keeps the offer open. Instead, she may live with a 19/20 year old Gambit, who’s living off of the Guild’s money and trying to lay low.

Scott is the drum player. After Xavier picked him off of the streets, he got a bit lost in the mansion and discovered a drum set in the music room (I imagine it used to belong to Erik/Magnus). Xavier sees that the boy has natural rhythm, and decides to find him a teacher. Scott forms a middle school band with the O5, but they had a falling out, causing everyone to go their separate ways. However, Scott is still very passionate about the drums, which is why he eventually joins Ororo. He may be more pessimistic, but his passion for the drums is more than enough to keep him going.

Kurt is the pianist. He’s a transfer student from Germany and has always wanted to be a part of a band like Ororo. It was him that suggested the idea of forming an actual club, and he’s the big idealist/optimist of the group. I can see him not knowing too much on how to play piano, minus the basics he learned from his mother (she taught him how to play despite his three fingers), so when he moves into the institute, Xavier teaches him how to play better. Even though there are some people at school who treat him just as bad as the mobs from his home, he’s still willing to get out there and play with the group.

Hank is the guitarist. He used to be a part of the same group as Scott, but after everyone split a part, he stopped playing entirely. I can see him being intrigued by the talk of a “light music club,” but after seeing Scott was there, he wants nothing to do with it. Eventually, he joins a practice session after Ororo gets through to him, and he realizes just how much he misses playing. Scott and him have the friends-turned-hostile-turned-back-into-friends relationship. Unlike the other three O5 members, his love for music trumps any hostile feelings after the falling out, and he’s willing to give it another go.

Ah, but you can’t have a club without a faculty member as your sponsor;

Mr. Logan was the only available candidate for this. After a lot of begging (and promises that they’d wash his motorcycle every weekend), they eventually get him on board. He pretends to hate it, but it slowly becomes obvious that he has a soft spot for the group. He sees the passion they all have, and it reminds him of when he was younger (hmm… what if Logan was the bass player Ororo saw when she was younger…).

Of course, if we follow K-On, we must have a 5th member that joins later on. I have no idea who that could be. I think there’s a lot of fun ideas depending on who.

[theodorenmyth]

Draco x gn Reader x Theodore

So reader is muggleborn and they have a preference for horror movies which surprises the two boyfriends especially when the reader invites them during break from school to their home to binge watch horror movies and the guys think reader will be scared but on the contrary reader loves it. The guys also know because the reader has a thing for ghost stories (as in the ghosts that muggles know of anyway)

Night of Frights

Pairings : Draco Malfoy x GN! Reader x Theodore Nott

Summary : During a school break, you invite your boyfriends, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, to your muggle home for a horror movie marathon. Surprised by your love for ghost stories, the two initially skeptical boys soon find themselves caught up in the suspense and fun. As they experience classic muggle horror films and play a spooky game, they bond with you over shared scares and laughter. By the end of the night, their fears have turned into a new appreciation for your interests, and they look forward to future adventures together.

A/n : Enjoy, @riddlemethis-or-riddlemethat (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : nothing!

Word count : 2k+

The doorbell rings sharply, cutting through the quiet hum of your suburban home. Excitement bubbles within you as you rush to open it, revealing Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott standing on your doorstep. Their immaculate appearances contrast starkly with the cozy familiarity of your house.

“Hey!” you greet them with a wide grin. “Come in, come in.”

Draco’s eyes widen slightly as he steps inside, taking in the quaint décor and the soft light filtering through the curtains. “This is... nice,” he remarks, trying to hide his surprise.

Theo chuckles, nudging Draco. “What did you expect? Skulls and pentagrams?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, but I do have something just as thrilling planned for us tonight.” You lead them to the living room, where a stack of horror movies waits by the television.

Draco’s brow furrows as he eyes the DVDs. “Horror movies? Really?”

“Surprised?” you tease, setting up the first film. “I’ve got a thing for ghost stories, and I thought it’d be fun to introduce you two to some muggle classics.”

Theo smirks, settling onto the couch. “This should be interesting. I didn’t peg you for the horror-loving type.”

“Stick around, you might be surprised,” you reply, handing them each a bowl of popcorn.

As the opening credits of "The Exorcist" roll, Draco glances at you, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure about this? Won’t you get scared?”

You grin, shaking your head. “I’ve seen this a dozen times. It’s you two I’m worried about.”

The movie progresses, and you revel in the tense atmosphere, your heart racing not from fear but from excitement. Draco and Theo, on the other hand, seem less at ease. Draco's grip on your arm tightens with every eerie sound, and Theo’s eyes dart around the room, half-expecting something to leap out from the shadows.

When the film reaches its climax, a particularly terrifying scene makes Draco jump. He quickly glances at you, but you’re watching with rapt attention, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asks, incredulous.

“Absolutely,” you reply, laughing softly. “It’s fascinating how different it is from what we know at Hogwarts.”

Theo leans closer, curiosity piqued. “Tell us more about these ghost stories. How do they compare to the ones we know?”

“Well,” you begin, pausing the movie. “Muggle ghost stories are often about spirits who have unfinished business, or who were wronged in some way. They can be vengeful, but they’re also tragic. It’s all about the unknown and what happens after death.”

Draco shivers slightly. “Sounds a bit like the Grey Lady or Moaning Myrtle.”

“Exactly,” you nod. “But with a lot more imagination and a lot less reality.”

Theo chuckles. “I think I prefer Peeves’ pranks to this kind of horror.”

“Speaking of pranks,” you say, eyes twinkling, “I have a game we can play after the movie. It’s called ‘Bloody Mary.’”

Draco and Theo exchange wary glances. “What’s that?” Theo asks.

“It’s a muggle legend,” you explain. “You stand in front of a mirror in the dark and say ‘Bloody Mary’ three times. Supposedly, her ghost appears and—”

“Nope, absolutely not,” Draco interrupts, shaking his head vehemently. “I draw the line at summoning spirits.”

You laugh, patting his arm. “Don’t worry, it’s just a game. But if it’s too much, we can skip it.”

Theo smirks, nudging Draco. “Scared, Malfoy?”

“Cautious,” Draco retorts, though his eyes betray his curiosity.

After the movie ends, you switch off the TV and light a few candles, casting flickering shadows on the walls. “Ready for Bloody Mary?” you ask, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Draco hesitates, but Theo stands, pulling him up. “Come on, it’s just a bit of fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You lead them to the bathroom, the mirror reflecting the candlelight eerily. “Alright,” you say, positioning them in front of the mirror. “On three, we say her name together.”

“One,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Two… three.”

“Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” you all chant in unison.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, the flickering candlelight casts strange shapes across the mirror, and Draco’s grip on your hand tightens. You stifle a giggle, enjoying the suspense.

Suddenly, there’s a loud knock on the bathroom door, and Draco jumps, nearly knocking over the candle. “What was that?”

You burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. “Just my dad. He’s probably wondering why we’re all crammed in here.”

The door opens, and your dad pokes his head in, looking bemused. “Everything alright in here?”

“Yeah, Dad,” you reply, still laughing. “Just introducing my friends to a muggle legend.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, just don’t scare them too much. Dinner will be ready soon.”

As he leaves, Draco lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Merlin’s beard, you really had me going there.”

You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I told you, it’s all just fun and games. No real ghosts here.”

Theo laughs, wrapping an arm around both you and Draco. “I have to admit, that was exhilarating. Who knew muggles could come up with such spooky tales?”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” you say, leading them back to the living room. “There’s a whole world of muggle horror out there, and I’m happy to share it with you.”

As you settle back onto the couch, another movie ready to play, Draco leans in, his expression softer. “I think I’m starting to see why you like this so much. It’s a different kind of thrill.”

You smile, feeling a warm sense of contentment. “Exactly. It’s all about stepping into another world, even if just for a little while.”

Theo nods, his curiosity still piqued. “What’s next on the list?”

You hold up the next DVD, "A Nightmare on Elm Street", and Draco groans good-naturedly. “I have a feeling I’m not going to get much sleep tonight.”

“That’s the spirit!” you exclaim, pressing play. “And trust me, this one’s a classic.”

As the movie begins, you snuggle between Draco and Theo, feeling a comforting sense of belonging. Despite their initial skepticism, they’re fully immersed in the experience now, reacting to every jump scare and creepy scene with a mix of fear and fascination.

Halfway through the movie, you pause it to make some hot chocolate. Theo follows you into the kitchen, watching as you expertly whip up the drinks. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” he asks, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit, stirring the cocoa. “It’s nice to share something I love with you guys.”

Theo smiles, taking the mugs from you. “We’re glad to be a part of it.”

Back in the living room, Draco has rearranged the blankets into a fort-like structure. “Thought we could use some extra protection,” he jokes, his eyes twinkling.

You laugh, handing him a mug. “Good thinking. We’ll need it for the final movie of the night.”

As the night wears on, the three of you move from one horror classic to another, the fear turning into a shared exhilaration. By the time you’re on the last movie, "Poltergeist", the atmosphere is one of cozy camaraderie.

“This one’s about a haunted house,” you explain as the opening credits roll. “The family moves into a new home, only to find it’s built on a burial ground.”

Draco shudders dramatically and immediately reached out for your arm. “Lovely. Just what I wanted to hear before bedtime.”

Theo chuckles, pulling you closer. “I have to admit, it’s kind of fun being scared together.”

“Exactly,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s the shared experience that makes it all worth it.”

As the movie progresses, the scares become more intense, but you notice that Draco and Theo are handling it better. Draco even makes a few snarky comments, breaking the tension and making you all laugh.

When the movie finally ends, you stretch and yawn. “That was fun. Thanks for indulging my horror obsession.”

Draco smiles, his usual cool demeanor softened. “Anytime. Though I think I’ll be seeing ghosts in my dreams tonight.”

Theo grins, nudging him playfully. “At least you’ll have us to protect you.”

You laugh, feeling a warm sense of happiness as you look at your boyfriends. “Yeah, I think we’ll all sleep a little better knowing we’re together.”

As you all head upstairs to your room, Draco pauses at the foot of the stairs. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of enjoyed tonight.”

You smile, giving him a quick kiss. “Me too. It was perfect.”

Theo wraps an arm around both of you, his voice soft. “Here’s to many more nights like this.”

You nod, feeling content as you climb into bed, the three of you nestled together. The quiet night outside contrasts with the whirlwind of excitement and emotion from earlier. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think that sharing your love for horror movies has brought you even closer.

In the dimly lit room, Draco’s voice breaks the silence. “You know, I’ve been thinking about those ghost stories you mentioned. Muggle ones, I mean. They’re not so different from ours, are they?”

“Not really,” you reply sleepily. “Just different ways of telling them.”

Theo’s voice, though tired, carries a hint of intrigue. “Do you think any of them are real?”

“Who knows?” you mumble, half-asleep. “That’s part of the fun.”

Draco chuckles softly, the sound soothing. “I suppose so. Still, I’d rather deal with Peeves any day.”

Theo laughs quietly, his arm tightening around you. “I agree. But I have to admit, this was a good way to spend the night.”

“Definitely,” you murmur, feeling warmth and safety in their presence. “Thanks for being open to it.”

“Always,” Draco whispers, his voice a comforting lullaby.

Theo’s voice is the last thing you hear before sleep takes you completely. “Sweet dreams, love.”

As you close your eyes, the night’s events play back in your mind like a comforting reel. You know that no matter how many horror movies you watch, nothing will ever compare to the feeling of being surrounded by the people you care about most.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

In the morning, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains and the smell of breakfast wafting from the kitchen. Draco and Theo are still asleep, their breaths even and faces peaceful.

You quietly slip out of bed and head downstairs, finding your mom making pancakes. She looks up and smiles. “Morning. How did your friends enjoy the horror marathon?”

“They loved it,” you reply, helping set the table. “Thanks for letting them stay over.”

“Of course,” she says, flipping a pancake. “They’re welcome anytime.”

As you finish setting the table, Draco and Theo stumble sleepily into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of breakfast. Draco yawns, running a hand through his messy hair. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he says, sitting down at the table. “No ghosts haunted my dreams.”

Theo laughs, helping himself to a pancake. “Same here. Though I did dream about that Bloody Mary game. Thanks for that.”

You grin, sitting down beside them. “Anytime. Maybe next time, we can try some other muggle activities.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “Other activities?”

“Yeah,” you say, your eyes twinkling. “Like muggle sports, or visiting a theme park.”

Theo’s eyes light up. “A theme park? That sounds fun.”

Draco looks intrigued despite himself. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

You smile, feeling a warm sense of anticipation. “It’s a date then.”

As you all dig into breakfast, you feel a sense of contentment and excitement for the future. There’s a whole world out there to explore, and you’re thrilled to share it with Draco and Theo. And as you sit together, laughing and planning your next adventure, you know that this is just the beginning of many more nights of frights, delights, and everything in between.

[buddierecs]

firefighter/normal job buddie fics

these fics have one of them as firefighters and the other with a normal job as per the request :) this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

call you home by: ashavahishta "5 times eddie told the firefam about buck and 1 time they actually met him" word count: 6k rating: general audience important tags: 5+1 things, different first meeting au, married!buddie, fluff we fell in love dancing kizomba by destimushi "after tragedy strikes close to home, firefighter eddie diaz moves him and his son, christopher, to LA where they can start fresh." word count: 125k rating: explicit important tags: cooking instructor!buck, bdsm, dom!eddie diaz, sub!evan buckley, dom/sub biology and we can stay all day by: trippedandfell "buck's a zoologist. eddie's pretty sure he's in love." word count: 3.3k rating: general audience important tags: alternative universe, zoologist!buck

what is love for $2000? by: fayevian "one night when eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). with the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of twitter, they devise a plan to get evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into eddie's dms. it works surprisingly well." word count: 17k rating: mature important tags: multimedia, texting, humor, frottage i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by: aficatyourfingerstips, brewrosemilk "eddie is an MMA fighter and buck thirsts on twitter" word count: 10k rating: explicit important tags: celebrity au, social media, texting, sexting stupid people by: brewrosemilk "new in los angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. a way to keep things from becoming too complicated. it works. for a while." word count: 160k rating: explicit important tags: different first meetings au, sex worker!evan buckley, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, multimedia, blow jobs, rough sex, praise kink, come slut!evan buckely, light dom!sub, phone sex, riding if i lay here, would you life with me (forget the word) by: browney3dgirl6 "the one where eddie’s in the army, shannon gives up her rights to chris, and eddie needs a babysitter. good thing lena knows buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until eddie gets back. eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything." word count: 90k rating: explicit important tags: different first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, slow burn, idiots in love, literal sleeping together, long distance relationship, soft!buddie, eventual smut i'm cold but you light the fire within me by: beulaugh "buck shows up for career day at eddie's school, and both of them struggle to rein in their attraction." word count: 22k rating: general audience important tags: different first meetings au, teacher!eddie, first kiss, careers day frequent flyer by whileyoursleeping "the one where eddie is a firefighter, buck isn't, and eddie finds himself rescuing buck from increasingly sticky situations. sometimes literally." word count: 13k rating: mature important tags: mild hurt/comfort, buck has bad luck, fluff

smoke and ashes brushed off with ink by princessfbi "tattoo artist!eddie diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo" word count: 18k important tags: eddie diaz takes care of evan buckley, non-sexual submission, praise kink, ptsd, art therapy

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 30th

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1. Ok this might be a shot in the dark. But do you know of a fic where basically it’s an arranged marriage (kind of) between lan zhan and trans (ftm) wei ying. It believe it is based on a reddit thread of a gay guy who got into an arranged marriage with a woman, but they actually are a trans man. Anyways…the reddit posts are deleted by now. But I remember reading this fic a couple years back and I can’t find it anywhere. Either it’s been deleted or hopefully someone else is able to find it 😭

FOUND? Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach by Khashana (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, fake married, Sort Of, Rule 63, Trans Woman WWX, Partial Cisswap, implied background/societal homo/transphobia, But nothing overt, background LXC/Qin Su also in a marriage of convenience way, gender euphoria, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with your spouse, based on that one reddit post, Light Angst, Light Pining, this fic is soft mostly) I think #1 might be this one, although wwx is a trans woman in it (it's a wlw wangxian AU) rather than a trans man

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2. Hi!! I cant remember if I already sent this or just thought really hard about it 😪 Im looking for a modern AU fic where WWX is dx'd ADHD and he and LWJ slowly start a relationship. The scene I remember most clearly is there being fireworks and it send LWJ into a meltdown. Ether just before or after the meltdown he found out LXC and LQR have been trying to get him diagnosed with Autism.

Xiao Xingchen is an adult psych who specalizes in neurodivergence iirc, and WWX helps make LWJ feel more okay w possibly being neurodiverse by talking about his experience w ADHD and Xiao Xingchen.

🙇‍♀️ thank you! @la-voce-to-me

FOUND? together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen, wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub, Brief LWJ/Others, Past WWX/Other(s)) sounds a lot like the happenings in chapter 8!

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3. hey admins! i'm looking for a fic where wwx is from the modern world back and somehow goes back in time to the cloud recesses and spends some time there, and towards the end of the fic lwj goes back to the modern with wwx. (i also remember that wwx and lwj goes back and forth often visiting each others home) thanks! <3

FOUND? Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

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4. This for fic finder. Its an old fic. Modern au focused on junior quartet. I dont know if the fic is several fic or in one fic. Junior quartet is in a club where they make a magazine (sorry i forgot the word both in my language and in english). They have an access to a school forum. LJY found an old forum talking about wangxian. Like the people in that forum failed to make wangxian happen in the past. If i remember correctly, they tried to matchmake wangxian. They ask LWJ to accompany them to yunmeng. In yunmeng, there are big festival happened there and they meet the jiang family in second floor of the restaurant to watch the festival from there. I think the jiangs is a respectable family that many people know them. So long story short, they manage to matchmake wangxian. I dont know if LJY release the news to that old forum or someone did. Just that LJY have an inkling the account that helped them is NHS. I dont know if this is important but LJY username has connection to chicken. I think thats all. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Operation Old Men by Chiharu (Not Rated, 37k, WangXIan, JL & LSZ & LJY, JYL/JZX, Modern, Boarding School, Single Parents, Everyone Is Alive, Matchmaking, Family Dynamics, Hospitals, Meet the Family, Family Vacation, Weddings, School Reunion, Happy Ending)

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5. this for ficfinder! i need help looking for a time travel fic wherein established wangxian travel back to their teen years. iirc wwx and lwj writes to each other in secret and wwx invents talismans to give to the jiang sect so that he can repay his debts and leave the clan when he is at a certain age. lwj also leaves (??). i think they become rogue cultivators tgt. im pretty sure i have this downloaded but i cant find it from hundreds of fics bc i cant rmbr the name 😭

FOUND? Trials of Time by Muggle_Diary (E, 32k, wangxian, major character death, underage, time travel, not jiang friendly, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, butterfly effect)

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6. Hello!! So i think the fic got deleted but all i can remember was wangxian had mythical creature eggs? Like they had a dragon,tiger,snake&turqoise and phoenix and they can talk telepathically at first then they can shift to humans later on!Thank you again so much!!!!

FOUND? For #6 with telepathic creatures, I haven't read the fic, but could it be that magical marriage ribbons series?

FOUND? #6 is My Immortal. I can't do the link on I'm my phone. It has the mythical beasts.

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7. Hii, I'm looking for a fic in which lan zhan goes to a party with lan xichen and then keeps going to the same house where the party is at many times and hangs out with wei ying on the basement sofa

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8. hii!! i recently read a fanfic where wei wuxian can't sleep because he gets horrible nightmares, there's one particular scene where the juniors are practically dragging him into cloud recesses, and he's falling asleep whilst walking and they meet with Lan wangji. if you could help me find it, that would be super great !! @spaaarkie

FOUND? hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

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9. I thought I had subscribed to this fic but I guess not... Looking for a WIP in which WWX is ambushed in Yiling, but he has A-Yuan with him so he's extra desperate in trying to fight the attackers off. There might be fire involved? Either the title, the description or the tags have some reference to "hysterical strength" (maybe! not 100% sure about that one!). Thank you. 🖤❤️ @linderel

FOUND! Hysterical Strength by covalentbonds (Not rated, 3k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Inspired by a Bollywood movie scene, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies, Parent WWX)

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10. hi!! i'm looking for a fic i read about a year ago(?) on ao3, where during the cloud recesses study arc (i think?) lqr and the other teachers notice that wwx's basic education is lacking and wwx says it's because yzy doesn't let him join jc's lessons because wwx is supposed to be a right hand man and his education is therefore less important, so the lan elders and scholars all team up to give him remedial lessons; i think there's also a part where they build a case against the jiang sect because the sect scholars failed their responsibility to teach their disciples equally. the fic holding shreds by barisan reminds me of it a little bit, but instead of yzy's physical abuse of wwx the one i'm looking for is all about the emotional abuse and education inequality

FOUND?🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) in this one, Xichen is speculating that WWXs education was stunted, especially in sect etiquette, deliberately by mme yu.

FOUND?🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad) in this one the lan sect does the scholar case thing where they accuse jiang sect of failing their duties by neglecting to educate wei ying.

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11. hi, i'm looking for a fic which i found on twitter but im sure links to AO3 — basically everyone in the universe is some sort of animal (wwx is a fox, lwj is a dragon?) and they're classified by their mating cycles (whether they mate for life or seasonally). wwx and lwj gets engaged but lwj calls it off as wwx is a fox and therefore mates seasonally vs his for-life situation. wwx gets sad about it and then they find out wwx actually can mate for life! i used to find it easily before but for some reason no matter what i search, it just won't come up and i don't think i was logged into ao3 at the time i read it either. hope someone remembers it as well, thanks!

FOUND? what you have tamed by lianhua_lianzi, Senforza (E, 94k, WangXian, Animal Traits, misunderstandings, Courting Rituals, Pining, Lan family dynamics, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Wangxian break up but get back together, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Unresolved Sexual Tension, unintentional and eventually resolved “gaslighting”, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX)

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12. Hi I’m trying to find a fic where jiang Cheng is being forced to get married/find an heir. I remember that a member of YunmengJiang approached him with a list of members of the sect that would leave if he didn’t get an heir. I think it was mentioned that people were okay with him not having getting married since they assumed Jin Ling would inherit and Jin Guangyao would have another child but once his crimes were revealed they started to pressure him.

I know it wasn’t a Jiang cheng/lan Xichen or jiang cheng/nie Huaisang

FOUND? Karma by such_stuff_as_dreams_are_made_on (Not Rated, 2k, JC & OCs, Post-Canon, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst, Minor WangXian, Not JC Friendly)

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13. I’m trying to find this fic where Wei Ying is looking for spouse for some reason and he starts asking everyone in Cloud Recesses but Lan Zhan even ask LXC to be his partner right in front of LWJ

If you have an idea about what I’m talking about thank you!!

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14. so theres this fic in which jiang cheng and wei wuxian sit in a boat in jiang cheng's memories and wei wuxian sings a song that he altered slightly. im pretty sure it was a reconcilliation fic but im not sure but jc was a bit emotional. i can't find it, please help!

related to the previous ask, what i described is also only a scene from that fic and probably not what the entire fic is about. i only remember that one scene. @theartisticdoofus

FOUND? sing to the clouds in summerby stiltonbasket (G, 28k, JC & WWX, JC & JL, wangxian, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, 13k words of JC figuring out that LSZ is his nephew, ft. LXC and NHS the overprotective uncles, and LWJ giving JC death glares, Family Secrets, Reconciliation, Sad JC, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Podfic Available) the song is in chapter 4

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15. Dear FicFinder Team, here I am again with only vibes and one scene. It was a WIP CQL post-canon fic, set during WWX's wanderings. At some point he exorcises a ghost in a tower (not one of the watchtower fics tho) and the last scene was WWX on his way back, kneeling in the grass to make offerings to his shijie and finally letting himself cry about her death. Maybe there were food descriptions too, I read this very early on and cannot find it in my history. It was exquisitely written too. @kinoumenthe

FOUND? the earth remembered me by remux (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, POV WWX, Post-Canon, Emotional Edging, Letters, emotional support strangers, Original Character(s), lwj's quiet devotion)

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16. Do you know the name for a fic where WWX is invisible (for some reason) and is in LWJ room (for some reason) and WWX watches LWJ hump a pillow but then LWJ notices that someone is in the room with him yada yada they have sex i forget when it gets revealed that it’s WWX

FOUND? Mak Siccar by therealandraste (E, 20k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Misunderstandings, Pining, Happy Ending, Paperman smut - only god can judge me, Original Character Death(s)) the details don't exactly fit but

FOUND? Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, WangXian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

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17. hello I'm looking for this twitter threadfic written by cerbykerby where wwx is a mermaid captured and brought in for studying by scientist lwj and others, and they eventually become mates. i've tried looking through their account for it but the fic is old and the search is way too far down, and i can't find the full fic. pls help out thanks!

FOUND? this is the unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby, I think

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18. Hi! First time requesting something like this, but I really need help finding this one fanfic. It’s a incomplete wangxian fanfic and the summary of what I remember was that when WWX wakes up in MXY’s body after thirteen years, people are actually praising YL WWX because somehow (I cant remember how) the truth behind his actions and why he did what he did in the first place. JC faces some hate from the cultivation world, JL doesn’t hate WWX, and LWJ is extremely protective of WWX. Hope all this information helps!!! @nikki-g-m

Could #18 be that fic where a painter/theater guy did an interview with drunk wwx during the burial mounds arc and then it got published after his death so that when he resurrects its's all settled already (?). I dont remember the name either but maybe someone else will

FOUND? 💖 The Ballad of Hanguang-Jun and The Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 40k, WangXian, ChengQing, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Arc, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Humor, musical theater?, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Crack treated seriously) The commenter on 18 was thinking of The ballad of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch, though idk if this is the fic OP wants

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19. literally just reading a random wangxian fic when I I remembered this one fic I read a while ago. I can’t really remember a lot of details but from what I remember Wei ying is the cloud recess for whatever reason and he get the silencing spell out on him and he panicked and starts scratching and clawing at his throat and everybody’s watching horrified like please y’all help me remember 😭 @saintzx

FOUND?🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 56k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad) The clawing is because he's desperate to defend JC against LQR's (rightful) admonishing, after JYL told him he should've tried harder after being silenced on a previous occasion defending JC

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20. Hello

Love your blog!

A) I'm looking for a fic where wwx was raised by WRH, but it is introduced with him being the one to raze Cloud Recess and starting ti flirt with a prisoner LWJ who's very much " bro, wtf" in his inner monologue.

He's bff w Xye Yang and at one point thinks of doing lwj favors

B) Modern au where wwx and lwj had been married, adopted LSZ and then divorced due to someone either framing wwx or LWJs fam pressuring him to it. Wwx still has visitation rights and all, and at one point lwj buys them a house as an apology, but wwx is less than cash money above it, bcs lwj didn't truly fix the mistrust or whatever the reason for their breakup was @midnightlighthowlite

20B)

FOUND? 🔒 Life as a House by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy)

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21. Hello there, I’m not sure if this is a fic finder or an in the mood for, because I’m looking for a fic and more like that.

So you know how theres this TikTok Sound of someone called Nick who asks for the WLAN Password and its I Love You Nick and Nick is in a lot of denial about being lovers even though their anniversary is coming up?

I found a fic that was basically WY and LZ in a relationship, and WY/LZ (but more likely WY) didn’t realise that they were anything more than friends, and it was very funny.

More comedic than anything else. But I cannot for the life of me find it, and everytime I try and search for it, only the sad version shows up.

Please send help, I need to read this fluff….I crave it. @desperation-is-my-middle-name

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[yoonivy]

so wrong, it's right; part 1. (patrick z. & art d.)

pairing. ex-boyfriend!patrick zweig x f!reader x stepbrother!art donaldson

genre. SMUT!! comedy, slight angst.

A ski trip with old friends sounds like a fun time, right? When your ex-boyfriend (who you hate but somehow always end up in bed with) and your stepbrother (who you are harboring not-so-secret feelings for) tag along at the last minute, you have a feeling it won’t be an uneventful weekend. But fun? Debatable. That remains to be seen.

warnings. art is oc's stepbrother so stepcest. THERE'S ONLY ONE BED :O! slight somno, assisted masturbation, fingerfucking, cumplay, dirty talk. there will be mmf threesome in the last chapter! so if you don't like any of that, don't read!

author’s note. this is a rewrite of an older fic of mine for a different fandom (bts), so if you think you've read it before, you probably have. but i love the story so much that i just wanted to breathe new life to it so now it's an artrick x reader fic!!

word count. 17k+

01 | 02 | 03 (finale)

----

Coming back home for the holidays has a lot of major perks. Although the university you attend is an 8-hour drive away, you never hesitate to make the trip back home. Yes, that means even when the weather gets really horrible – like blizzards and hurricane warnings level of horrible - and it causes major backup on the highways that you feel like you might die from a panic attack before a terrible crash might even happen… It’s all worth it! You get to see your fawn British shorthair cat - Muffin - who you missed so dearly (even though you are not the one she is surely missing), taste your mom’s home cooked meals again, and catch up with family and your best friends from high school.

“And you also get to see your insanely hot stepbrother, don’t forget that!” Rachel sing-songs from the backseat of Hannah’s car. Hannah giggles and nods her agreement as she drives slowly down the slippery streets of the neighborhood you all grew up in, but in the shotgun seat of the car, you whip your head from Hannah to Rachel with a fierce glare.

“Just because the two of you still have boners for Art, doesn’t mean I do too! I stopped thinking he’s hot the moment my mom and his dad started dating!”

Rachel squints her eyes at you, surely thinking of some infuriating comeback. “What about that summer break before we all left for college, didn’t yo—“

In a snap, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn all the way around so that you are sat on your knees and could easily wrap an arm around Rachel’s neck while your other hand clamps tightly over her blood-red painted lips.

“Don’t repeat it!” You screech. If Rachel could scream, she would have been, but only a muffled mmmmphhhhhmmmpphh can be heard from her. Lucky for her, Hannah was screaming plenty enough for the both of them. The car swerves from side to side because of all the commotion happening inside it.

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU! I DON’T WANT TO DIE BEFORE JACOB COULD SEE HOW HOT I AM NOW AS A RESULT OF MY AMAZING NOSE JOB!”

Hannah’s desperate pleas resonate with you. She has been vying for Jacob Elordi’s attention since freshman year of high school and this weekend, she finally has a chance to do so. You part from Rachel, but not without smearing her lipstick stain that was on the palm of your hand on her black sweater first. She sticks her tongue out playfully at you and you do the same back. Then you both go back to acting as if nothing happened, though poor Hannah is still a bit rattled.

“You’ve always been hot, pre-nose job and after nose job,” you tell Hannah as you buckle your seatbelt again and Hannah gets her driving under control. Rachel chimes in her agreement.

“Thank you,” Hannah says as she flashes you with a grateful smile, but then it quickly turns into a frown. “But what about summer break? Are you two keeping secrets from me?!”

“No!” Both you and Rachel reply, heads shaking.

Rachel explains further, “You probably won’t remember, our last sleepover before the summer of senior year was over? When we drank like 5 bottles of wine and you started crying about Jacob… Again… Well, ____ confessed something as well but you fell asleep during her little…” A warning glare from you causes Rachel to giggle, “- story time. But I guess it’s not my secret to tell…”

“It definitely isn’t,” you snap just as Hannah lets out a long, whining ‘aaaaawwww….’.

“Please tell me, ____! Please,” Hannah frowns deeply as she looks over at you, eyes big and wide and pathetic, “I hate being left out.”

It’s hard to say no to Hannah, even though she’s the oldest in the group she was like the baby as well. She’s just so awkward and adorable and… Ugh, you can’t believe you’re going to rehash this terrible, terrible story again.

“Okay, fine. But eyes on the road. And don’t fucking judge me.”

----

Summer ‘06

Summers in Ohio have always been hot and muggy, but that summer had to be the worst. August especially had been hotter than Satan’s ass crack and to make matters worse, the only working AC in your mom’s and Art’s dad’s house (AKA your home growing up) was the one in the living room. But your mom and Art’s dad had fully occupied that room the entire summer, watching all the seasons of Grey’s Anatomy because it’s your mom’s favorite show and she wanted to introduce Mr. Donaldson to it. So you spent most of your time out of the house, going to the familiar places you loved before your first year of college at AMDA in New York City. You mostly hung out with Rachel and Hannah, although sometimes another childhood friend of yours, Manny, would tag along. But you “shared” him (and Art) with your ex-boyfriend, Patrick (who you didn’t end things amicably with) so Manny had been MIA since Patrick came back home from his grandparents at the end of July. It was fine with you because Manny is a bit of a scrub and you were running out of money to spend. Hence why at the half-end of August, you started staying home instead of going out.

Luckily, it’s been hot and humid all summer long, which meant you could finally take advantage of the above ground swimming pool that Art’s dad had installed during the spring. 

The water in the pool was nice and cold that afternoon. When you had fully submerged yourself in it, you found it perfect for the blistering hot day.

You spent an hour swimming back and forth the length of the pool by yourself. Once you tire yourself out, you start to float on your back, catching your breath as you thought about inviting your friends over for an impromptu pool party.

Maybe… Maybe later… You thought as you let your eyelids close. That could wait, it’s only 4 in the afternoon. What you needed was to relax for a bit before getting out of the pool and calling your friends.

5 minutes must have passed when the vision behind your eyelids darkens as if dark clouds had covered up the sun. Your eyes slowly open, brows knitted in confusion. Had the weather report lied when they predicted it wouldn't rain that day?

When your eyes fully open, you see that it wasn’t rain clouds at all. It was your stepbrother, Art, standing on the wooden deck of the pool, a grin on his face as he stared down at you from behind his black wayfarer sunglasses.  A cool “hey” came out of his mouth, but you, on the other hand, were anything but. Startled by his appearance, you flop and splash around clumsily into standing position.

You could hear him snickering under his breath so you threw him a glare once your feet were grounded on the bottom of the pool. As you wiped away the droplets of water clinging onto your face with both your hands, you whined out, “Art?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark navy blue swim shorts.

“It’s fine,” You said, though you eyed him suspiciously because he still had that grin on his face. But your attention focused on the towel draped over one side of his shoulders instead and he noticed you noticing it.

“Mind if I come in?”

You shook your head, looking around at the surprisingly big pool as your arms waved back and forth in the water, making ripples on the surface, “Go ahead, there’s plenty of room.”

A thanks could be heard coming from Art but was hard to hear because he had already turned away to throw his towel close to where you had dropped off your things near the outer edge of the deck. The next to go was his backwards white snapback, allowing his blond hair to flow in the light breeze, then his sunglasses and slippers joined his pile.

You knew that was the time you should turn away, especially when his fingers start to toy with the hem of the white t-shirt he was wearing. But like the thirsty dumbass you are, you kept your eyes on him, even when the sliver of his light treasure trail began to come into view. Inch by every inch, more of his pale, freckled and slightly defined body was exposed, and every second, you felt hotter even though you were inside the cold water. You were so focused on his body that you didn’t notice that he had already pulled off his shirt and had seen the way you licked your lips at the sight of him. It’s only when he threw the shirt to the side and cleared his throat that you looked up to see his eyes on you.

Knowing you had been caught, you turn away as your body starts to burn with mortification. You don’t see the satisfied smirk on his face because you had already started to submerge your whole being into the water, silently praying that your death by drowning would be as painless as possible.

You had your eyes closed and cheeks puffed with air, ready to see the light, when you felt something tap your nose. Of course you knew who it was, but still, when you open your eyes, you hop back, startled as you let bubbles form in the water from the air you let out through your mouth. Art smiled at you as best as he could when his cheeks were puffed up cutely as well, pointing up for you to go to the surface. After nodding, you both swim up together.

When you resurfaced from the water, the first thing you saw was a wet Art running his hands through his hair, looking so cool and so hot at the same time.  

“I didn’t realize it was this deep,” Art said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah, it’s at least 10 feet deep.”

Art grinned at you, his clear, blue eyes playful as he asked, “You wanna have a competition?”

“What kind of competition?” You asked cautiously yet curiously.

“A race,” Art said while hopping backward to one end of the pool and pointing to the other. “From this end to over there.”

“Why are you already swimming over there like I already agreed to it?” You asked while crossing your arms and Art laughed because of how feisty you sounded. “What does the winner even get?”

“A favor.”

“A favor? What sort of favor?”

“Any sort of favor…” A sly smirk spreading on his face when he added, “Whatever your heart desires.”

His words shot straight to your core as you take a hard swallow. He probably did not even realize his effect on you, but you do, much to the internal battle to not feel anything for him.

Maybe if you made a joke, he would not be able to tell what your heart really desired at that very moment. “So let’s say someone forgot that it’s your dad’s birthday in a few days and didn’t get a gift… Would that person be able to steal the other person's gift?”

Perfect! A question that’s also a reminder to yourself why a certain line should not be crossed.

With his arms resting on the edge of the pool, he shrugged, “Yeah, sure… So you up for it?”

Making your way over to him, you nod. “Alright… But your gift better be good!”

“It is… But who said you’re going to win?” Art questioned when you were beside him, clearly amused by your confidence by the grin he was wearing.

With your stance ready to begin the race at any second, you stared straight ahead as you boasted, “I took swimming lessons for a while in elementary school and was even told I could do lifeguarding training if I wanted to…” You let out a smug puff of air and then tipped your head to the side, glancing at him, “I think I can handle this.”

“Huh… Wow…” Art muttered in awe as you nod arrogantly towards him, chin held high and eyes shut. You felt good for a few seconds, until he dropped the bomb, “Well you should know that before I started focusing on tennis, I was also training at an Olympic level swimming team.”

“Wait, you what?!” Your eyes snapped open but Art ignored your questioning look, starting the countdown to begin the race.

“Go!” He yelled after counting down from three and the race began. He took the lead, and even if he had not told you about that little fact about him that had you all muddled up, you would still be dead last. Art was fast and agile in the water; for every centimeter you gain, he tripled that.

Art was already at the finish line for at least seven seconds before you reached him.

“Real nice. Making up a competition you knew you would win,” You said slightly out of breath as you cling onto the edge of the pool, feigning anger with the glare you shoot at him.

“Hey! Neither of us was at a disadvantage! You were supposed to be a lifeguard, remember?” Art reminded you of your dumbass hubris while snickering.

“That was in 7th grade and I never even took the training!” You whined knowing that whatever you say, you owe Art a favor now. Huffing, you begrudgingly mumbled, “So what do you want?”

Art seemed to be thinking hard about it, mouth turning down in concentration. So you waited, chin resting on your arms as you let air out to flap your lips. While doing this, you missed the way his stare lingers on your lips, licking the water off his own. A cliché scenario of asking for a kiss before you both leave for college as the favor running through his head. But he knew he couldn’t – shouldn’t – especially not when your parents were so close, just a backyard sliding door away. Not to mention his best friend was your ex-boyfriend. So he snapped out of his thoughts, turning around to rest his arms on the edge as well, his elbow bumping against yours to make you look towards him. When you did, he grinned as he asked, “Can I think about it?”

You sighed dramatically, “I guess so… Even though you didn’t win it fair and square…”

While Art chuckled, that was when you felt something amiss. Your hand shot up to touch your collarbone, only to find the necklace you always wore was not around your neck.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, twisting and turning on the spot to see if it was floating anywhere around you.

“What happened?” Art’s face is concerned, losing all hints of playfulness.

You wade slowly around the water, eyes continually searching for the golden chain with the heart pendant. “My necklace fell off.”

“Fuck…” his own eyes now scanning the pool as well. “It’s gold, right?”

“Yeah, with a heart.”

Together and in silence, you searched the water for the missing jewelry. You had the left side of the pool while Art took on the right side. Your necklace was a delicate little thing and so with every passing minute, you deflate, resigning yourself to never finding it.

“I don’t think we’re going to find it,” you called out to Art after the search had breached thirty minutes. “Let’s just go back—“

Just when you were about to call it quits, a twinkle at the bottom of the pool caught your eyes. With an overexcited ‘Nevermind, I found it!’, you get closer to the corner where it was. You sink down to the bottom, vision blurry and stinging from the chlorine, but you had to get it somehow – it holds a very important meaning to you. Reaching out, your fingers touch the bottom of the pool but the necklace seemed to be wedged between a crevice on the floor. You try to poke it out but no attempts avail.

Out of air, you swim back up. Art was waiting close by and you shook your head sadly to his questioning stare. “It’s stuck in this small space at the bottom. I can’t get it out…”

You were so focused on staring down at the necklace at the bottom of the pool that you hadn’t noticed that Art had swum up behind you. It was only when he had placed his hands on either side of your hips that you finally felt his presence. To look at where the necklace was, he pressed his chest against your back in a way that could be considered too close, but you welcomed it, even leaning back slightly to get even closer. He peered over your shoulder, his mouth close to your ear, the air that he breathed tickling the outer shell. He had had your whole body quivering, under his spell as he muttered in a raspy, slow voice, “Here, let me try.”

You nod in a daze while he gently pulled you to the side so he could take a shot at getting the necklace. But not without letting his hands trail lazily down from your hips to the sides of your upper thigh before he took them off you as if he did not want to let go. And even though it was Art that submerged himself in the water a second later, you were the one more out of breath between the two of you.

You woke up the following day at half past noon and found yourself all alone in the house.

On a note that your mom left for you on the fridge, she wrote that she and Art’s dad are going on a day trip to a lavender farm somewhere for his birthday and that they’ll be back some time in the evening. She also relayed the information that Art had gone out with his friends, so you could have the leftovers from last night.

That was a relief because as you were reading the note, your mouth was already stuffed full with the noodles that you found in a container inside the fridge.

Like the rest of the people in your household, you too had plans for that day, and so you made your way back to your room after you finished your late breakfast. The girls wanted to eat out one last time before Hannah heads to Belgium for University the next morning.

As you got ready, you kept your bedroom door open to get the AC circulation into your room. It was still so freaking hot that you were bouncing around in your room in nothing but a white crop top and a lacy pale pink underwear.

Your goal was to finish getting ready in less than an hour so you could leave your scorching house sooner. But in the middle of doing your no make-up make-up routine, as you were gliding on a layer of shimmery bronze eyeshadow onto your lids, the door to your room creaks open further.

Looking down, you saw Muffin enter your room, heading straight to your bed. A freshly done eyebrow of yours quirked up because she had something hanging from her mouth, a piece of fabric of some sort. You followed her to investigate further.

Muffin was already up on your bed when you got to her, the unidentified fabric snug beneath her.

“What do you have there, huh?” You asked as you reached under her to pull the fabric. She just meowed when you grabbed it, clearly too lazy to fight for it back. You shook it out in front of you and found that you were holding a piece of clothing – a white polo shirt with a black Adidas logo on the side to be exact. The same one Art was wearing the day prior.

“Ew, you little weirdo,” You narrowed your eyes judgmentally at your cat when you identified what she had brought with her. “Art’s only been gone for… What? 5 hours? And you’re already hoarding his dirty clothes like treasure?”

The only answer you got was another meow before Muffin jumped off the bed and made her way out of the room. Probably to get another one of Art’s things to keep safe with her.

“Now what am I going to do with this?” You mumbled to yourself as you stared at the t-shirt you still had in your hand. Put it back in Art’s laundry hamper at that very moment or later, when you were done getting ready? You chose the latter; about to place it back down on your bed but you caught a whiff of the pleasant smell on the t-shirt. You held up the fabric to your nose and breathe in, smelling nothing but Art’s usual scent – a nice woodsy, saffron smell, with a hint of mint from when he probably wiped his mouth with the shirt after brushing his teeth last night.

Your eyelids had flutter shut as you shivered in place, feeling the heat building down below. The smell brought you back to yesterday afternoon. How he was so close to you, the way he gently touched your waist, how he whispered in your ear in that panty-dropping voice of his…

When you opened your eyes, you quickly looked around. Even though you knew you were alone in your house, you just had to double check for prying eyes for what you were going to do next.

Clearly, you lacked self-restraint and were no better than your cat, because the next thing you know, you were pulling off your own tiny top to drown your figure with Art’s t-shirt.

Then you crawled onto your bed – but wait! Not before hurriedly grabbing your beloved GIGI 2 Lelo vibrator from the bottom of your suitcase, buried underneath all the things that you are bringing to Uni. 

Once you had everything you needed – which was your still clearly vivid memories of the day before and the vibrator you had not touched in more than a week – you made yourself comfortable on your bed, laying down on your back and parting your thighs.

It was entirely too easy to get into the mood while thinking about Art. If you had any shame left, you’d be at least a little bit embarrassed about how wet you were becoming. But you didn’t, so as one of your hand slipped under Art’s shirt to travel all over your body, pinching your nipples until they hardened underneath the weight of the fabric; the other hand pressed the button on the vibrator, causing the toy to come to life with its humming vibrations.

You let the vibrator rest against your inner thigh as the fingers that were tweaking your nipples ghost down your skin, leaving goosebumps on its trail. You had to feel first, feel how wet you were just thinking about Art had made you, feel how much you wanted more – wanted him, his fingers on you instead of just your own. When you first touched the dampness of your arousal sticking onto your skimpy panties, you whimpered something that sounded a lot like his name.

Before you brought the vibrator any closer to your throbbing and wet center, you turned your head to check the digital clock on the bedside table.

30 minutes until you had to meet your friends.

Pulling Art’s t-shirt up to cover your nose and breathing in deeply, the buzzing toy in your hand now firmly against your clit, you moaned out loud, thinking you could work with that.

----

Present

“So that’s how you lost your necklace!” Hannah exclaims as her fingers touch the gold heart hanging around her neck that has the word “forever” engraved on it. Rachel looks down at her own that reads “best”. The “bitches” that pulled it all together still missing. You never did get the necklace from the bottom of the pool. To this day, it’s still stuck in that tiny crevice. As you thought regrettably about that, Hannah shrieks in the most judgemental and accusatory voice ever, “You were canoodling with your brother!”

“STEPBROTHER!”

“Blegh!” Rachel chimes in, sticking her tongue out in mock disgust. “And touching herself while thinking about him and while wearing his dirty underwear? A sin! I’m surprised you haven’t been smite by lightning yet!”

“It was his shirt!” You defend yourself, vehemently shaking your head. “A shirt, not his underwear!”

Hannah giggles. “Like that’s any better, ____”

You pout, slumping in your chair miserably. You can’t even argue back… She’s right.

“I thought I said don’t fucking judge me…” you grumble as you narrow your eyes at your so-called “best friends”. “And weren’t you the ones that told me that it didn’t matter if my mom was dating Art’s dad, I could still ask out Art because I liked him before they even met?”

And that was the honest truth. You knew Art way before your mom and his dad even laid eyes on each other. Heck, you two were the reason why they even met in the first place – at the opening night of your high school’s production of Beauty and the Beast, where you (a sophomore at the time) played the lead role of Belle, and Art (who was also a sophomore) was part of the AV Club that oversaw all the behind-the-scenes tech and sound boarding for the musical. A club that he joined to stack up his application for university.

The play was also the reason you got close to Art. Before the play, you didn’t even know he existed – since he was in a specialized tennis program, he had different classes than you. 

But once practice started for the play, during your lunch breaks and after school for a whole semester, you were working with Art for many hours a week. At first, the two of you barely interacted. Maybe you caught him looking at you once or twice but that was all. However, as opening night approached, Art suddenly started talking to you more. Then he began giving you – and only you – little pick-me-ups after practices like a bottle of water or a chocolate bar (and sometimes you would stay a little while longer at school to share it with him). Soon he tagged along to cast and crew outings that Jacob - who was playing the Beast - invited him to when before, Art would usually decline.

If you were an absolute idiot, you wouldn’t think he went to those outings because of you.

But you’re not an idiot, and you knew he went because of you.

It was so obvious; he was so obvious. He always found a way to get closer to you, always tried to make you laugh, paid attention to you in a way that it seemed like you were the only one in the room, and was just so genuinely interested in whatever you had to say. You found it cute, really cute. You just found Art cute in general. So cute in fact that you told yourself that after the musical ended, and if he still hadn’t asked you out, you would ask him out yourself – and you never, ever do that! Even your friends were rooting for you to do it because it was so unlike you.

“Yeah, we did encourage you to ask him out… But that was before your mom married his dad!”

Too bad your mom just had to sit beside Mr. Donaldson that opening night and hit it off with him…

You groan loudly, sulking to yourself about what could have been. Maybe you and Art would be dating seriously by now – engaged even - or maybe it would have been just one date and that was that. You will never know now. 

What you do know is becoming friends with Art came with one particular con. His best friend Patrick Zweig being that singular disadvantage. 

But that is a whole other story.

“I’m just kidding,” Rachel coos as she reaches forward to pinch your cheek. “I don’t think you’re a little freak for wanting to screw your step brother’s brains out!”

You grunt, swatting her hand off you.

“It’s totally cool… Like Clueless!” Hannah says, mentioning the 1995 cult classic teen movie where the main character ends up with her step-brother.  “Didn’t everyone and their mothers like Cher and Josh together? And unlike them, there’s no predatory age gap between you and Art!”

She makes a good point… But still…

You sigh and shake your head, there’s no use in dwelling on the past.

“Let’s just stop talking about it. I think Art’s dating someone now anyway. Some girl named Molly Gordon or whatever—” you totally did not stalk her Instagram after your mom told, nope, not at all! 

“He’s not even coming home because he’s spending Christmas with her,” you tell them what your mom had told you a few days ago.

“Wow, really? Must be serious then,” Hannah remarks.

“I guess so…” You catch yourself frowning deeply at that and you know you shouldn’t. So you quickly change the subject, “Anyway, who else is coming skiing with us?”

Rachel turns on her phone to read through the group chat created last night by Paul Mescal, a friend of yours and the one who basically planned the spontaneous ski trip that’s happening in just two days. “Jacob… duh… Manny, Daniel, Daisy, and Amandla… Oh, and Daisy’s boyfriend.”

No mention of your ex-boyfriend. He is probably visiting Art (forcing his company on Art and his girlfriend more like) or still trying to make it in his failing pro tennis career. Either way, that’s exactly what you needed to hear to bring a smile back to your face.

---

“I’m hoooome!” You call out when you enter the front door, stomping your feet on the mat below you to get the snow off your boots. “Hannah and Rachel are here too!”

Behind you, Hannah closes the door while Rachel yells after you, “Helloooo!”

From somewhere far inside your house, you hear your mom shout hello back and you’re sure she’s probably making her way through the house to greet the three of you. “Are you girls hungry?!”

“We just ate!” you answer back, but at the same time, Rachel asks, “What’s the food?!”

Hannah giggles at that, while you, on the other hand, narrow your eyes jokingly at your best friend as she and your mom have a back and forth shouting conversation about the meal your mom made for dinner.

Boots off and neatly placed on the shoe rack, you unzip your coat as you head to the living room just a few feet away. With your friends trailing behind, you take the lead, calling for Muffin as well. It’s odd, since coming home five days ago, she would usually wait for you by the door.

“Muffin?” You call for her again and still no sight of the cat.

It’s almost as if —

“Muuuuffin—oh…” You freeze as soon as you step foot in the living room, because what do you know, your suspicion was right… The little cheater was there, comfortably purring as she lays on Art’s belly, who was lounging across the couch, his head resting on his arm.

Wait — why was he here?!  

When he turns his head away from looking at the television to look at you, there’s a smirk on his face as he discreetly – or maybe, not so discreetly – trails his gaze up and down your body before it settles back into your eyes, “Hey.”

That’s when you realize you were basically sticking your chest out towards him. Not intentionally, you were just in the process of taking off your coat. Burning in more ways than one from head to toe, you straighten up, coat still on and now even hugged tighter around your body. Art tries to hide his amusement by licking his lips to get rid of his smirk and greeting your friends, “Hey Rachel. Hannah.”

The girls are as surprised as you were, both their mouths hanging at the sight of him. If you turn back, you might have even seen Rachel drooling a little bit. You can’t even blame them because god… Art is looking really good.

He bulked up a bit judging by his thicker-looking thighs, plus the usual sexiness he exudes seems to have multiplied by a ten-fold –

Damn it… He makes it so hard for you to not think about him like that!

“Art! Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Rachel exclaims after she sucks in her drool, making Art chuckle as he sits up with Muffin in his arms. She then nudges you and asks with a mischievous tone in her voice, “Right, ____?”

Due to all your attention focused solely on Art, you barely even heard her teasing. Instead, you ask him a question of your own, “What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be—“

“Girls! Pretty girls!” Your mom cries, barging into the room, her arms open wide. Once she’s in front of you and your friends, she closes her arms around as best as she could around the three of you, whisking you all away to the direction of the kitchen as she coos to Rachel and Hannah, “I miss your pretty faces so much! Come, let’s get you something to eat!”

In the kitchen, once your mom unwraps her arm from pretty much strangling your neck, you see that your stepfather is sitting at the table. He lifts his head up when you all enter to greet a friendly hello – which your friends say hello as well - before he looks back down on the iPad he was scrolling through Facebook on, stopping to laugh a dad laugh at a meme from at least 2 years ago.

When you tear your eyes away from him and back to your mom, you see her glaring at you while her gaze diverts to the door every few seconds as she whispers harshly, “Don’t ask Art why he’s home… His girlfriend broke up with him!”

In the midst of processing the news, your stomach flips with excitement, causing you to sound a tad bit hysterical when you whisper back, “H-how was I supposed to know that?! I just found out he was even dating a few days ago!”

At that, your mom’s face softens, looking apologetically as she wraps her arms around you again, guiding your head to lay on her chest. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just— …” You pull away just as she sniffs. “I feel so bad for Art. Who would break up with someone during the holidays?! They flew to her parents’ house together, she introduced him to her family, and then what? She realized she doesn’t want him anymore? She even made him pay for his own ticket to go back home!”

“That’s so heartless,” Hannah murmurs, eyes already glassy with tears.

“Yeah, what a bitch!” Rachel comments.

“You took the words right out my mouth,” your mom says to her, nodding in agreement. Before you could groan and remind your mom that she probably doesn’t know the whole story, she calls your name to get your attention first. She has that too sweet smile on her face that you have also adopted when you want something. You were hesitant when you silently acknowledged her to go on.

She starts slow, “____… I know you have plans to go skiing with your friends and I know you haven’t seen some of them in a long time…” You raise a single brow, knowing that there’s a but coming… “But…” her eyes widened, full of hope, “Would you be willing to stay home instead? Keep Art company?”

There’s no doubt that your friends are at least attempting not to snicker behind you, and Rachel’s surprisingly doing a swell job at not bursting out a suggestive comment like, ‘Are you sure you want ____ to keep Art company?’ But you, yourself, could only let out a long uhhh… as a small part of you actually toys with the idea to stay. Make him feel better and all that… Though nothing sexual crosses your mind! (Or at least not that much…)

Before your irrationality wins out, Mr. Donaldson steps in, “_____ doesn’t have to do that!” He turns to you, causing you to jolt because you might have been thinking something not PG – not even PG-13 – about his son. You blame Cuffing Season, because you could usually tame your risqué thoughts when you shouldn’t be having them.

Fortunately, mind reading is not a thing, and Mr. Donaldson just beams, “Don’t worry about Art, he’ll be fine. Have fun with your friends!”

After you answer a small and nervous ‘ok’, your mom deflates in disappointment, and that should have been the end of that. But then Rachel pipes up, “He could come with us? He’s basically part of the group, anyway,” then under her breath, she murmurs, “When Zweig’s not around.”

“Really?” Hope re-ignited, your mom perks up. She looks to Rachel and Hannah first, who were both nodding enthusiastically, then back to you, “Can you take Art with you, ____? I’ll pay for both of your accommodations!”

Now that’s an offer you can’t refuse. After your holiday shopping, this ski trip will probably put you close to debt.

“I mean, sure. I really don’t mind…” But in the end, the decision is not really up to you.  “Only if Art wants to go though.”

“Go where?”

All eyes turn to the entryway of the kitchen, where Art was standing, brows drawn closely together and pouty lips even poutier because of confusion. And with Muffin in his arms, he looks downright adorable.

“_____ and her friends are going skiing and she wanted to invite you!” Your mom tells him as if it was your idea. You inhale, blinking slowly as you stare blankly ahead, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face. It wouldn’t be a proper holiday at home if your mother doesn’t embarrass you at least once!

“Oh? Are you guys going with Jacob and them?” After he gets a confirmation, Art hums. “He invited me to that…” Then he looks at you, “I, uh, didn’t know you were going.”

You point a thumb back at your friends, “They convinced me to go today.”

Art nods slowly at this, remembering he had already turned down Jacob’s invitation. But now, knowing you were going, well… “If you’re cool with me coming… It sounds like it could be fun.”

“Oh, she’s cool with you coming,” Rachel whispers, laughing quietly to herself, but then lets out a much louder OOF a second later, when Hannah – the only one who heard her – successfully elbows her in the stomach.

Oblivious to what’s going on behind you, you grin at Art. “Yeah, it’s cool. It’ll be fun!”

“Sounds good.” Art returns the sentiment with a quirk on the corner of his lips. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you say, weaker than you meant it to because you were too caught up in Art’s deep stare.

Misreading the atmosphere, your mom beams between you and her step-son, completely overjoyed that you’ll be spending time together, get closer, and do all the things that you and Art couldn’t do because you both moved away for University before the two of you could really get close. 

And oh boy, is she right�� Though probably not in the way she wanted.

—---

Saturday arrives and you are up even before the sun rises, lugging a suitcase to the back of Hannah’s car to head to the ski resort that is two hours and fifteen minutes north-west from Gahanna. You were still so tired, but your friends wanted to make the most of the weekend, so losing a few hours of your precious vacation sleep was a sacrifice you had to make.

You were, however, able to get some shut-eye in the car. Well, as much as you could with Rachel and Amandla there singing along to the early 2000s mixtape the former made. Though it does not last long, they get unbearably loud when Hannah catches up to the only car on the long dreary road with you. In the backseat beside you, Rachel rolls down the window and the two stick out their heads to begin screaming, “YOU GOT ME FEELIN’ HELLA GOOD, SO I’M GONNA KEEP ON DANCING!”

In the other car, Daniel rolls down the driver seat window to stick his middle finger out. Jacob can be heard laughing and Art probably was as well, but you can’t hear or see him from where you were sitting.

To retaliate, Amandla lifts up her sweater to press her bralette covered boobs against the passenger seat window. As everyone in the car you are in, including yourself, scream shrilly at her antics, all Daniel shouts back is, “Nothing I haven’t seen before, babe!”

The boys pull ahead to turn into the public and busier road leading straight to the resort, Amandla sits back down – boobs away – and grins to the side at you and the other girls, “I think this weekend’s going to be fun… The old crew’s back together…  Gonna do what we do best…”

Which was wreak major havoc wherever you guys go. You can’t even count how many places kicked your group out for being just terrible, little shits. Yeah, you were that group of loud teenagers that everyone side-eyes and wish would just shut up or leave. But you’re sure it’s different now. You are all grown up and more mature…

“I don’t think Daisy knows what we’re getting her boyfriend into…” Amandla finishes.

“Eh…” Rachel shrugs. “I’m not worried about him.”

“You haven’t met Ewan though,” Amandla reminds her. “He is even more sweet and fragile than Hannah, and she could barely handle half the things our group gets into.” To the princess-like blonde, Amandla says, “No offense, babe. You know I love you.”

“No offense taken!” Hannah squeaks out.

“Maybe he’ll surprise us… Plus, this means we won’t get a rehash of Daisy and Paul’s usual drama,” you say with a laugh. That earns you a side-eye from all your friends.

“That’s pretty bold of you to say, _____,” Rachel snickers. “At least Paul and Daisy can be civil to each other now. He was the one that invited her after all…”

“And not to mention, Daisy and Paul only had one big break up… Like, yeah, it was exhausting, but after a few months, things settled down and it was done. You and Patrick on the other hand…” Amandla trails off, sighing deeply before she starts again, head bopping left and right, “On and off, on and off, on and off…”

Rachel and Hannah join in, the three of them making a tune while simultaneously laughing.

Maybe you walked right into that one but a scowl still makes its way on your face, your arms crossing petulantly with a huff.

“Okay, I’m the first to admit that my history with Patrick was… messy, to say the least. But we too, are… Civil to each other now.”

Rachel snorts at that, “You and Patrick can’t even be in the same room without going off on each other.”

You ignore her to continue in your defense, “The on and off relationship we had was left behind in high school!”

“Our trip to Vegas begs to differ…” Amandla murmurs. In a span of a week, you and Patrick got together and broke up exactly 12 times. You don’t quite remember how the two of you manage that but whatever… That’s in the past!

“I don’t fuck with him anymore, he doesn’t fuck with me… We are exclusively not fucking with each other, and that’s just the honest truth!”

“Need I remind you of my last birthday party?” Hannah questions with a shiver, remembering her 21st birthday when she had to throw out her brand new bed sheets that her aunt gifted her the very next day.

Again, what your friends say comes into one ear and goes out the other. Holding your head high and above it all, you say, “And if he was coming on this trip, we would have been fine. It would have been drama-free! I’d actually be happy to see him because we’re good now. More than good. We’re —”

---

“Great… Just fucking great!” You groan while glaring at the boy who is messing around with Paul and Manny at the outer edge of the parking lot, all already in their snowboarding gear. A grimace twists upon your face when you see him throw his head back, laughing hard. That big smile causing an adverse reaction to your heart, speeding up to a point that’s not considered normal. “What the fuck is he doing here?!”

After grabbing the last suitcase out of the trunk and slamming it shut, Rachel grins towards you. “I thought you said you’d be happy to see him?”

“That was 20 minutes ago!” You remind her, shrilly. “When I thought he wasn’t coming!”

As if he knew people were talking about him, Patrick glances your way. Despite the cigarette hanging from his lips, a grin spreads at the sight of you, raising one of his arms that were crossed and twiddles his fingers as a form of a wave, his eyebrows raising twice. The two boys that were with him look over as well, though they greet Daniel, Jacob, and Art instead - who were farther up ahead than you and the girls, already close to them. 

From this far, you don’t see how Art and Patrick barely acknowledge each other. 

“Hmm… Will this be a drama-free weekend?” Amandla asks out loud jokingly. “Find out more at 10 PM, EST!”

“___ did say they could be civil to each other now…” Hannah says, throwing a look your way. “I guess we’ll see!”

You make a face back, but answer with an arrogant, “You will see… how right I am!”

The only response you got was their laughter which was the only one warranted because your overconfidence doesn’t last long. With your feet and luggage dragging against the gravel of the parking lot, you unenthusiastically follow the girls towards the guys.

When you get to them, they’re in the middle of a conversation about the brand new half-pipe (now the biggest one in North America) at the resort, plus the grand re-opening of the Skier’s Village 15 minutes away, where there’s a Raising Cane’s, Dunkin Donuts, and a few clothing stores opened now.

“That’s why it’s super packed here. It’s like a tourist area now…” Paul states as he looks around at all the people walking about. “Remember the last time we came here? There was barely anyo- Oh, hey!” He grins when he notices you and the other girls, stopping his train of thought to lean forward and give each of you a warm hug. “Man, I’m so happy to see you guys! I honestly didn’t think anyone would come because of how last minute this was!”

“Yeah, well… I could only take so much of my mother nagging me about when I’m going to settle down and give her grandkids,” Rachel says with an exasperated sigh.

“Yikes!” Manny exclaims. “She needs to cut you some slack…” Rachel nods in agreement while pouting, but then Manny continues, “It’s not easy to find a guy who’s willing to sacrifice himself to be with you!”

“I can murder you with my bare hands, Manny Jacinto!” Rachel warns, though she is pretty non-threatening when her baby blue mitten-clad hands rise to point at Manny.

“And I wish you…” Manny winks at her, “… an ounce of luck.”

Manny shrieks a second later when Rachel charges for him, head first like an angry bull.

“I miss this,” Paul chuckles while shaking his head.

Everyone’s eyes are on the two idiots running around. As you laugh under your breath, you also shiver visibly from the cold. Unbeknownst to you, both Art and Patrick see this and frown. But they catch each other doing so, grimacing at the other. 

Patrick speaks up first, beating your stepbrother to the punch, “Let’s head inside so you guys can get checked in. We were gonna check out the village, but we’ll wait for you and we could all go together before heading to the slopes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jacob says through a yawn. “I could really use some coffee right now…”

“Me too!” Hannah pipes up after him, and he acknowledges her with a tired grin that probably has your best friend internally combusting.

After that, everyone makes their way into the ski lodge, with Rachel and Manny following a couple minutes later when they realize that you were all gone.

Inside, the lobby of the lodge is packed like Paul had said. Every open area was filled with groups getting ready to head out and a long line was formed at the front desk for people waiting to check in. As your group splits up, with the ones you traveled with heading to the back of the line while Paul and Manny run to the couch that just became free, Patrick wrenches you aside by the door.

With eyebrows raised and eyes to the ceiling, you heave a sigh before you look into his eyes and cluck, “Yes?”

“Look… I just want to apologize for not calling after what happened at Hannah’s birthday-“

“Is this why you came? To apologize for something I don’t even care about?” You cut him off with a glare, omit adding any more to your last question. “Because if I remember correctly, you hated coming here.”

“What? No!” Patrick quickly states. “I had no idea you were even going to be here!”

You don’t know if you believed him because Art knew. And if Art knows, Patrick knows.

“Art didn’t tell you?” You ask with squinted eyes of skepticism.

Patrick’s brows draw in confusion for a quick second, then he scoffs and shakes his head as if in disbelief. “No… Art didn’t tell me.”

His answer gives you a pause since it was such a strange reaction. But you know how to spot Patrick’s bullshit by now that you can tell when he is lying. Right now, he looks like he genuinely didn’t know. Art was probably too tired to update him last night.

But still suspicious, you eye Patrick carefully as you say, “Well, that makes two of us… I didn’t know you were coming either.”

“I’m just here to help Paul…” Patrick says. “You should have seen him last night. Crying pathetically over his Guinness because he doesn’t think he can handle seeing Daisy with her new boyfriend… I promised to be his wingman, help him get over her by finding some nice girls here.”

“Finding girls, huh? Well, you are good at that,” you chirp, faking enthusiasm with a big grin. “Though Paul should try his luck getting help from someone else. Nice girls aren’t really your forte. You do know that Paul isn’t really a one-night stand sort of guy, right? Or the type to sleep with his ex-girlfriend without telling her he’s actually dating someone else.”

Patrick closes his eyes as he frowns, nodding bitterly to himself, ashamed of his past indiscretion. He truly hadn’t meant to do what he did at Hannah’s party. He had changed, or at least he thought he did, but the moment he saw you… God, you were like his kryptonite. It’s the worst excuse but it’s the only one he’s got.

When Patrick opens his eyes again, he says, “If it makes you feel better, I told Taylor and she dumped me…”

“It’s what you deserve… but it doesn’t make me feel any better,” you tell him truthfully. To realize you had a hand in making someone else feel like how Patrick made you feel throughout the years you were together made you sick to your stomach.

“But maybe if you hadn’t blocked me on every social media, you would have known about her.”

You gape at him, appalled at his bold statement. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?!”

“No, that’s not-“ Patrick groans as he rubs his forehead. “It’s my fault… I’m sorry, I really am. I just…” He worries his bottom lip for a second and you feel a pang of… something in your stomach. Despite whatever you tell yourself, it’s obvious that Patrick still has somewhat of a hold on you. “I just want us to be cool again. Start over and be friends. We used to be good friends, remember?”

Patrick looks so genuinely sincere at that moment, with his brows drawn together and pretty hazel eyes so sad that you almost balk and forgive him on the spot. But you knew it would be stupid to.  

“I can’t…” You begin slowly, throat dry, and flicker of hurt flashes on Patrick’s features. “I mean, I can’t forgive you for everything… but… I am willing to start over…”

Because Patrick’s right, you two used to be good friends. Before feelings got in the way and messed everything up. And maybe that’s why things between the two of you always went wrong. Whenever you and Patrick fight and break up, you’ll ignore each other for a few weeks but then the next thing you know, the two of you jump right back into another doomed attempt of a romantic relationship with each other.

Maybe that’s what the two of you have been doing wrong all along. Maybe this time, it could be different.

Patrick’s back straightens as a smile slowly lifts his lips. Firmly, you add, “As friends.”

“Alright, that’s more than I hoped for,” He chuckles, his hand lifting towards you. “So… Friends?”

You nod, about to touch his palm with your own until he quips with his signature lopsided grin, “No take backs, right?”

Your eyes narrow, stopping yourself from touching him at the last second. “Don’t make me regret this, Zweig.”

“You won’t,” He promises, and so you grip his hand and shake it.

When you let go, you felt eyes on you. You turn to see your friends not-so-discreetly watching from the line. You wave at them causing Patrick to check as well. He laughs and waves too just as Rachel, Hannah, and Amandla all look away in different directions, pretending they had not been spying.

With a satisfied grin, you laugh to yourself, realizing that you had just proved them wrong when they thought you couldn’t be civil with Patrick.

You only stop grinning when you shiver involuntarily again because a group of teenagers opened the door to go out, letting the cold wind blast inside. Then you feel someone tugging up the zipper of your coat and you look towards Patrick. He looks so concentrated while he moves away your hair so it won’t get caught in the zipper.

Once he’s satisfied with his work, he peers up at your face and sees the taken aback expression on it. That’s when he quickly takes his hand off you like he had just touched hot coals and stuffs it into his pocket.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks flaring red with embarrassment. He is so used to doing little things like that for you while you were dating that it didn’t even occur to him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I noticed you’re shivering a lot…” he explains. I don’t want you to get sick, was what he really wanted to say but instead, he looks away to act cool. “You should really wear warmer clothes, _____.”

Already feeling like an overstuffed teddy bear with your five layers on, you roll your eyes jokingly as you huff. “Thanks for the advice.”

Hopefully this newfound friendship between you and your ex-boyfriend doesn’t come and bite you in the ass.

---

“This is me,” Daniel says with a grin when the elevator door opens on the fourth floor. When he gets off, he waves goodbye to the only two left on the lift, you and Art, exclaiming a see ya! before the door closes.

Once the elevator stops on the fifth, both you and Art get out. Since your mom booked the rooms for both of you, your rooms must be close to each other. Looking around, you find the sign that points you in the direction of rooms 5010-5020, with your own being 5018, so you head left with Art behind you following along.

“What room are you looking for?” You ask him just as you pass 5014, knowing yours is near.

Peering at every door he passes, Art answers absentmindedly, “Room 5-0–“ You stop in front of your door, just as Art looks up and grins at the one you were at, “18, it’s this one.”

Your brows furrow as your head shakes slightly in confusion.

“Wait… Are you sure it’s 5018?” You ask slowly, showing him your card. “Because this is my room.”

“Uh… What?” Art utters, glancing down at the keycard in his hand as his face mirrors your own. He reads over his card then looks back up at you. “Shit, they probably messed up.”

You press your keycard on the sensor and it lights up green with the sound of the door unlocking. Opening the door, you gesture for Art to come inside as you say, “Let’s check with the front desk.”

He nods and you head in together with your suitcases. A quick phone call should clear up all the misunderstanding.

20 minutes and a conversation with a front desk attendant then one with your mother and another with the front desk later, it seems that it was a misunderstanding. A miscommunication between your mom and the lodge when she made the reservations. So instead of booking two rooms, she got only one… With one queen-sized bed.

There’s good news and bad news.

The bad is that since the lodge is in full vacancy, they can’t get another room for you or Art. The good news is that you will be the first they call when something opens up. Plus, the hotel provided two gift cards of $50 to the stores at the Skier’s Village for all the trouble.

Luckily, a quick text to Hannah fixes all your problems. She’s ecstatic to share a room with you all weekend.

“Sorry about all this,” Art apologizes after everything is settled, sitting on the edge of the bed while putting on another pair of thermal socks.

On the floor, you stop rummaging through your suitcase for your gloves to shrug at him. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but you should get the room, I could ask —“

“It’s all good,” you shake your head with a smile. “Hannah’s already really excited. She already planned for us to do some new facemask she brought and watch 13 Going On 30… Again…”

When you giggle at that, Art finds himself chuckling too, a sweet smile gracing his face.

Finding the pair of gloves, you close up your suitcase and stand up.

“I’ll just get this later, is that okay?” You ask him, glancing at your case. “I don’t want to make everyone wait even more…”

“Yeah, of course,” Art says, standing up as well, boots on and ready to go.

“Thanks,” you smile at him before heading to the door first.

“Oh, ____, wait!” Art calls, and you stop to turn back to him. He walks to you, holding out the electric blue wool hat he had been wearing earlier. “Wear this,” he looks at the one on your head and frowns, “The one you’re wearing is too thin.”

“What about you?” you question in concern.

“I have another in my pocket,” Art says with a shrug. He doesn’t but he’s sure he can get something decent at the Village with the gift card. Probably nothing as warm and high quality as his favorite blue hat, but he’d rather you wear it than him.

“You sure?” You ask again.

He grins. “I’m sure.”

“Okay…” You sing-song as you pull off your beanie and place it on the counter beside the two of you. This morning, when you first saw the ridiculously chunky hat on Art’s head, you had a giggle to yourself. But it grew on you and now, you actually think it’s kind of cute, but maybe that’s because of who was wearing it.

Before you could get the hat from him, Art chooses to put on you himself. He does it gingerly, pulling it over your head carefully as to not mess up your hair.

“Looks better on you than me anyway,” Art states as he looks over you after the hat is comfortably on your head. With his hands still cupping your face, his thumb tenderly caresses your cheek as he asks softly, “It’s warmer now, isn’t it?”

You could only answer with a nod. Your ears are burning hotly, and you don’t know if it’s because of Art’s hat or from his gaze.

—---

The upgrade to the Village was tremendous, you could hardly remember how it used to look like but you know it sure didn’t look this. Cobblestoned streets, pretty white light globes hanging on the wires from street lamps to street lamps, restaurants that have lines forming around the block even though it’s only 10 in the morning, and there’s even a fucking Loewe boutique now!

Though it’s really hard to enjoy everything when every step of the way, Rachel is quietly teasing you about wearing Art’s hat. She has so many questions, and none of them you answer, so she gets a bit huffy about that and the fact that you were rooming with Hannah instead of using the golden opportunity that was bestowed upon you to stay in the room with Art. You tell her that if you hadn’t gone, he would have roomed with Patrick instead. She sulks about that for a bit until you tell her that you’ll buy her something at the next place you all go into if she stops pouting. That puts a smile on her face quickly and all’s forgotten.

Your group stops by the cafe for a bit, and you treat your friends with the gift card you got, getting into the holiday spirit. In the time you were in there, Daisy finally arrives with her boyfriend, Ewan. He’s nice and gets on with everyone well, but there’s a small part of you that’s still a bit sad about Paul and Daisy not working out. They were literally the antithesis to yours and Patrick’s relationship – so when they broke up, you thought about how if they couldn’t make it, then no one can. But you suppose even seemingly perfect relationships can also have problems. Plus looking at her now, Daisy seems really happy with Ewan; and although Paul can’t completely mask his sadness, he is being respectful towards them.

In a way, you’re glad Patrick was there. You’re sure that if he wasn’t, Paul would totally be 100% emo right now. Patrick is already working overtime on his wingman duty, which isn’t only getting girls for Paul but also doing stupid things to put a smile on his friend’s face. Which is… Sweet… A trait that you’ve always liked about Patrick, that he always tries to lift the mood of the people around him.

But, yeah… He did already help get 2 numbers for Paul – the barista at the cafe and a cute girl window shopping in front of the Nike store. At this point, it really shouldn’t surprise you how good Patrick is at picking up girls, though at least he’s doing it for something good now.

After Manny has a brilliant idea to do a last minute Secret Santa session tomorrow night, you all look around the shops for a while to find a gift for the person you picked from the wooden stirring sticks that Hannah wrote the names on.

You got Jacob, and knowing what you know about his habit of listening to music while sleeping, you buy a pair of earphones in case another of his breaks. While buying some snacks for tomorrow night at the convenience store, Rachel drones on and on about how you should have got him a box of condoms instead since it seems like him and a certain girl were actually hitting off during the time at the café, suggestively raising her eyebrows up and down at a blushing Hannah. Then Rachel grabs three boxes of protection anyway and throws it into the basket she was carrying, shrugging and defending that it’s a good gift idea when you and Hannah stare at her dumbfounded. You really hope she isn’t your Secret Santa.

---

“How many?” The ski lift attendant asks when your group comes forward.

“Uh… 7,” Manny answers but looks around to double check; counting himself, you, Rachel, Patrick, Daisy, Ewan, and Art. The others who had brought their own equipment went ahead to the hills already while the ones in this group were renting stuff out.

The attendant nods and points to the red gondola lift coming and says, “Go ahead and watch your step. Might be a tight fit but you could all go in there.”

Once the lift slowly comes around to the platform, you all quickly get on because it will never fully stop, all the while thanking the attendant. When everyone gets in, he securely closes the door and tells you all to have a good day.

The attendant was right about it being a tight fit. With everyone’s choice of skis or snowboards piled in the corner, you guys were like a bunch of sardines in a can in there. You, being one of the last ones to get on, didn’t get a spot to sit on either of the two cushioned benches inside the lift.

“Oh, it says you have to sit!” Daisy says to you and Ewan, pointing at the safety sticker attached to one of the many windows. At that, she stands up to let her boyfriend take her spot so she can sit on his lap instead.

You look around, trying to find a small space you can fit yourself into before the lift makes its way out of the platform and you become the reason you and your friends end up being in a freak accident Final Destination style, but your search stops when you find the mischievous face of Rachel instead.  You shake your head at her in warning when you see her eyes flicker between you and Art, already leaning forward to probably push you onto his lap.

But then someone else beats her to it first. Someone who is almost as meddling as Rachel but as equally irritating. Manny giggles before pushing you towards his friend –  who also happens to be your ex, “Hey asshole, help ____ out!”

As you fall forward with a small yelp, your hands clutch tightly onto the puffy coat material on Patrick’s chest and the other on his shoulder, while his arms swiftly wrap around your waist, securing you a place on his lap. He glares at Manny, but his hold tightens around you, “Dude, what the fuck? She could have gotten hurt!”

On the other side of Patrick, Rachel furiously mouths a fuck you at Manny. With no sign of regret or even a slight concern for your safety, Manny just puts his hand over his mouth and giggles again, answering both of them with an, “Oopsie!”

Patrick sighs and then grins up at you apologetically, “You okay?”

“Yup!” You squeak quickly, trying not to blush as your mind flashes to all the many times you’ve been in the same position on Patrick’s lap – but with far fewer layers of clothing. You instantly remember it because it was his favorite position… How he would pull your hair back so he could scatter marks all over your neck to your chest with his mouth, roughly grab your ass and smack it as much as he pleased until it is raw and burning and bruised, and the way he would always call you his good little slut for being able to take all of daddy’s cock…  

The image in your head became far too much that you shakily try to get up as you mumble a sorry towards him. He frowns as he looks over your expression, only to bite back a smirk when he recognizes that half-lidded faraway look in your eyes, his grip keeping you in place.

While everyone else gets distracted by the beautiful winter wonderland scenery outside the window, Patrick leans in closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek.

“If you’re thinking about things that will ruin this friendship, you better stop,” Patrick growls in warning in a voice so low that only you could hear, but there’s also something there that indicates he doesn’t mean what he had said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say coolly, though you are anything but when you feel something firming up against your backside. You almost whimper out loud because of how thick and long it felt even through the confines of his snowboarding pants.

God, you miss it. Patrick’s dick is pretty much 95% of the reason you always come running back to him.

And he knows that very well.

Patrick shifts around so his length could comfortably rest along your clothed center, and you were only wearing water-proof and thermal tights-like pants so you felt everything.

A ragged breath escapes you, causing Patrick to lightly brush his smirking mouth against your cheek as he mutters, “Good girl.”

Quietly fuming in the corner, Art watches the whole thing with a palpable look of pure envy on his face.

---

Even before you became Art’s stepsister, you were supposed to be off limits to Patrick.

As Art’s best friend, Patrick was the first to know about the blond’s crush on you. After seeing you play Rizzo in the Grease Musical that their school put on during Freshman year, you were all Art could dream and talk about. At the time, Patrick was so encouraging about it. He was even the one who suggested Art to join the AV club so he could get closer to you, knowing that you had a passion for musical theater. It was the only way to do so. With their specialized schedule for their tennis program, Art’s chance of sharing any class with you was less than 5%. Art also didn’t have any talent for acting, singing, or dance; so signing up for the drama club would just embarrass him. So the AV club was the safest bet.

Surprisingly, it actually worked. Because of the club, Art worked on the musical you were the main star of, and he managed to get closer to you. Close enough that he was confident enough to think that he had a chance. So he promised himself that after the last show, he would ask you out.

But then his dad met your mom, and everything went downhill from there. 

So as his group of friends and yours merged together, Art had to take a step back and treat you like just a friend. 

And that’s when Patrick swooped in and took you for himself. 

It had started because of a drunken mistake at a party, and Patrick was actually so remorseful that he had promised a very angry Art that it won’t ever happen again. But then Art’s dad proposed to your mom, and at that point, Art couldn’t justify his “dibs” on you. You weren’t his, and you weren’t an object, and it’s pretty clear to see that you developed some sort of feelings for Patrick after that one night stand. So Art gave Patrick his blessing even if it killed him inside to do so.

For a while, Patrick had tried to not show off his relationship with you so blatantly in front of Art out of respect for Art's “past” feelings for you. But you were too irresistible that sometimes he would forget that he invited Art over to his dorm room, and Art would walk in to find you and Patrick heatedly making out on the twin sized bed, with Patrick’s hand groping your breast, drawing noises from you that Art wished were because of him instead of the leech sucking your mouth dry.

By now, everyone has witnessed the long and messy history of yours and Patrick’s on-and-off relationship which makes Art secretly hate him even more.  

If he had been in Patrick’s place, Art would have cherished you and would have never broken your heart over and over again, let alone even once. Patrick probably doesn’t even know how lucky he is to be given so many chances from you because he didn’t deserve any of them.

Patrick didn’t deserve you at all, you deserve someone better. And that somebody should be Art.

But not him him, Art thinks, because that’s wrong seeing he is now your stepbrother and all… Just someone like him.

It will be wrong to try to pursue you now, so he won’t.

But it still pisses him off. Especially after seeing what happened on the lift, once again wishing he was in Patrick’s place instead and he fucking hates that he’s so jealous of that asshole. Still. Over and over again. With you, and then Tashi, and now you again. 

Though perhaps trying to one-up every snowboard trick Patrick does isn’t the best course of action to prove that Patrick isn’t all that and that there are better guys out there. (Like him, but once again, not really him.) It’s the dumbest thing Art has ever done, but he only figures that out when he falls flat on his back after attempting to do a frontside rodeo.

His back hurts like shit and Patrick had the audacity to look all worried when he asks Art if he’s okay. And despite Art’s protest, he even carries Art to one of the rest stations scattered throughout the park. What a prick.

Fortunately, you tag along. Your genuine concern for Art really helps ease the pain and somewhat allows him to tolerate Patrick’s mere presence. Though it would have been a hell of a lot better if Patrick wasn’t in the equation at all.

“Can we talk?” Patrick asks, when the two find themselves alone in the rest station when you leave to get something warm for Art to drink at a food stall nearby. Art tried to tell you it’s fine but you insisted that some hot cocoa will make him feel better. 

Staring out the window and refusing to look at his ex-best friend, Art replies flatly, “We have nothing to talk about, Patrick.”

Pressing his lips together, Patrick feels his eyes start to sting, his gaze getting slightly blurry with wetness. It’s been fucking years since Tashi’s accident, and Art is still acting like Patrick was the one who purposely broke her knee. If Art broke his back today, Patrick surmises that he’ll find a way to blame Patrick for that as well. “Are you really going to be like this the whole weekend?”

“Yes,” Art replies without hesitating. “Now fuck off.”

Patrick shakes his head in disbelief, stares at Art for a moment longer, then heads to the door. But before he fucks off, he stops to throw over his shoulder, “I hope you feel better soon, Art.”

When Patrick steps out, that is when Art finally glances his way. But he was already gone.

—---

“I’m really, really sorry ______! Should I just cancel? I feel so bad—“

“No!” You screech into your phone, catching the attention of the family of five in the elevator with you. “If you do that, I will kill you in your sleep, Hannah.”

You give a friendly smile to the wide-eyed little girl and the mom when they move away from you slightly, the mother’s arms wrapping protectively around her daughter tightly.

“But—“

“No, buts!” You cut your best friend off yet again because you know if you don’t, she’ll be true to her words and cancel the date Jacob asked her out on that afternoon at the slopes. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I’m sure Rachel will let me stay with her…” As you suggest that, you’re already thinking of some good blackmail material you have on Rachel because she would surely take a lot of convincing since she wants you to stay in the same room as Art. Attention back on your conversation with Hannah, you grin when you tell her, “Go have fun! You’ve been waiting for this moment for like years and years!”

“I know!” She squeals excitedly. “I can’t even believe it’s actually happening!”

“And we didn’t even have to do anything! You did it all by yourself!” You sniff proudly, clutching your heart as you step out the elevator on the fifth floor. “My baby is growing up.”

“I’m older than you, _____,” Hannah reminds you with a giggle, then she sighs dreamily. “I can’t believe I was always so scared and shy to go near him before. He’s so easy to talk to.”

“You better tell me everything as soon as the date is over,” you say and she hums an of course. “And don’t forget to bring protection!”

“___!” Hannah screams, then for a moment she falls silent until a few seconds later, she adds quietly, “Rachel already gave me one of the boxes she bought… Don’t worry…”

“Wow…” is all you could say as you laugh together. When you reach the door of room 5018, Hannah says her goodbye, needing her time left before Jacob arrives to finish getting ready for the date. Hanging up, you knock on the door and call Art’s name. Hearing his answer to come in, you use your card to enter the room.

Stepping inside, your eyes find Art sitting on the bed with one leg folded and the other laying straight, his back resting on the headboard. The television is on, marathoning the usual holiday movies that they show every year. Art tears his gaze away from Buddy and Zooey Deschanel singing in the showers to see you raising the plastic bag full of things he needed to help his back pain.

You walk over to the bed and dump the contents of the bag on it, and he leans over with a slight wince to grab the bottle of Tylenol, “Thanks, this will really help.”

While yanking your scarf off, you frown, “Does it still hurt?”

He shakes his head and grins, “No, not as much as before.”

“Well, that’s good to hear… But if anything changes… Tell me, okay?”

He nods and mouths an okay, finding your concern for him so adorable. He had told you before you left to trek into the cold afternoon to get the things now scattered on the bed that you didn’t have to, but you insisted to anyway. It was sweet of you, he thought as he watches you turn your gaze to the TV with a smile on your face, you are sweet.

“I love this movie,” you say out loud.

“I’ve never seen it before.”

“Really?!” And when he nods, your mouth falls open. “I’ll let you watch it in peace then,” you take your phone out of your pocket. “I have to make a quick call anyway-“ You point to the washroom. “I’ll just make it in there, okay? I’m not, you know, doing anything else if I take a long time.”

“Uh…” Art had to laugh. “Sure.”

“I’m serious, it’s just a phone call!” you say as you walk to the washroom. “Not number two or anything like that – Okay, I’ll just shut up now.”

Closing the door behind you, you smack your forehead for your stupid mouth. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have a chance with Art because you’ve ruined it plenty of times already, he probably does really see you as a dumb little sister now.

Shaking your head, you call Rachel. She picks up after the third ring.

“Hewwo?”

You resist the urge to tell her to shut up because you needed her to go along with whatever you were going to ask her during this call and in order to do that, you have to be sickly sweet and praise her until she will do anything you say. It’s like a weird platonic foreplay, and in the end, you will get what you want.

“Hello beautiful…” you purr, making her giggle.

“Oooh, baby… and to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“Well… You must have heard that one of our own has… gone to town to paint it red with a certain man that I’ve heard rumors about…” You begin.

“Mhm… Yes, yes, I have…” Rachel answers haughtily, in a terrible posh accent. “That he is hung like a horse, yes… I hope our dear friend will be able to survive the night.”

You choke back a laugh – pounding a fist on your chest - to continue the weird roleplay. “Yes, I do too… So, I was thinking… We should have our own fun too! We could call up room service-“

She gasps, “Room service! Fun!”

“Yes, order some chocolate covered strawberries and sparkling wine, paint each other’s toenails, give each other massages… Doesn’t that sound swell?”

“Mmm… Mmmm… Mmm… Yes, yes, it does…”

You grin. Hook, line, and… “And I’ll pay for everything.”

“Oh… Oh my god?! R-really?!”

“Yes, really.”

She shrieks with excitement, sounding suspiciously like she’s having an orgasm at the thought.

Sinker, baby!

“So what do you say? Shall I come over now?”

“What? Come over? No, I’m sorry… I-I’m kind of – fuck – busy tonight.”

“What the fuck, Rachel?! What could you possibly be doing tonight?”

Guess you have to do Plan B. The B stands for blackmail and boy, do you have a good one —

“She’s doing me.”

What…

“Or I guess, more accurately… Oh, fuck, baby…”

The…

“I-I’m – uhnn- doing her.”

Fuck?!

“MANNY?!” You scream. “YOU GET AWAY FROM MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT NOW!”

He chuckles deeply, “Or what?”

“Or—“ You couldn’t think when you could hear your best friend’s moans of pleasure in your ear. You groan as you mumble, “Just give her back the phone.”

After Manny laughs again, you hear slight rustling as the phone gets passed back to Rachel.

“H-hewwo?” Rachel answers again, this time sounding meeker.

“Frankly, I am disgusted…” you tell her harshly. Even though Manny is one of your best friends this has got to be the grossest thing you’ve ever found out in your life. Rachel has already stooped so low that no blackmail of yours could even top this.

“I’m sowwy– Oh my god, daddy…!”

This girl has no shame.

“REPENT FOR YOUR SINS!” You shout before hanging up the phone quickly. Your whole body shudders, having the urge to throw out your phone and take a thousand showers or maybe more effectively, get a lobotomy so you can forget about everything you just heard in the past 2 minutes.

Running a hand through your hair, you sigh as you put down the lid of the toilet to sit down and think about your other options since Rachel is definitely out now. You don’t want to intrude Daisy and Ewan’s couple time, so that’s a bust. Amandla is out barhopping with Paul, Patrick, and Daniel at the Village; and will most probably take someone home tonight so that’s also a no-go. So now, you have… nothing.

With a resigned huff of air out your mouth, you stand up with a clap of your hands on your thighs, ready to tell Art about the bad news. When you open the door, his furrowed stare of concern was already on you as he asks, “Hey, what’s wrong? I heard a lot of shouting.”

“Oh, nothing! That was just…” You trail off, not wanting to get into it, so you just smile instead. Except maybe you shouldn’t because of the news you were about to bring him. “Listen… You know how Hannah and Jacob are going out tonight?”

He nods so you continue, “Well because of that, I, uh… don’t really have a place to stay tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, that was Rachel I just got off the phone with and she’s also… preoccupied tonight. And I could call Amandla but I—“

“Just stay here.”

“Really?” You ask, perking up. “Is that okay?”

Art shrugs, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Then he looks off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it alright if I stay here too? I think all the other rooms are full except Jacob’s… And well… if his date with Hannah goes well…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” You say quickly. You point to the chair and ottoman close by the window. “I was thinking of making that my bed so it’s all good.”

“What?” Art sits up now, shaking his head. “No, no, I’ll sleep there tonight. You take the bed.”

“But your back—“

“Is fine, I told you.”

“But—“

“Take the bed, ___,” he insists, standing up from it. With a kind grin, Art beckons you over to the mattress with a tilt of his head. “You’ve already done so much for me today so this is the least I could do.”

With a defeated sigh, you walk over the bed, running your fingers over the comfy white comforter once you are beside it. You look over the size of the bed and you realize something. Nervously, you suggest it, “We could, um, both fit on this bed, you know…”

His mouth gapes slightly open then closed like a startled fish, finishing his lack of response with a hard swallow. You take his silence as a bad sign so you quickly say as you wave your arms a bit too much, “I mean, if I stay on this on this side of the bed-“ you gesture to the side closest to you, then point to the other farther side, “-and you stay on that side of the bed, there will be plenty of space in the middle and we won’t even be near each other at all! And we’ll both be comfortable and your back won’t be sore tomorrow morning — and like, what if you injure your back more? I don’t want to be the reason your tennis career ends before it’s really started! —  but if it’s a stupid idea th—“

“It’s a good idea,” Art manages to say finally. Your wide eyes stare at him, mouth still open from your hurried speech but no words come out. He sits on the bed and looks around, “It is a pretty big bed… I don’t see why we can’t sleep on it together…” He stretches his back a bit by arching his chest out, “And my back is still pretty sore…”

You keep staring as you bite your lip, feeling yourself heat up because of two things; excitement that this is actually happening and shame for being so excited that this is actually happening.

He pats his hand on one side of the bed and turns to look at you, “So this is my side?”

When you nod, he smirks, standing up. “Alright, I’ll get ready for bed then…” Then he stops in front of his suitcase, and looks over at you again, “Unless you want to go first?”

Awkwardly laughing, you shake your head. “No, go ahead!”

After a flash of his smile and small thanks, Art heads to the washroom with a change of pajamas. Once he is out of the room, you collapse on the bed, clutching onto your rapidly beating heart as you mouth holy shit to yourself over and over again. Because, holy shit… This is actually happening!

Then you tell yourself to get a grip because this is nothing to get excited over. The two of you are just sharing a bed, that’s all.

---

In the middle of the third movie of the holiday marathon, Home Alone, you fall asleep on the far right side of the bed with the comfy comforter wrapped around your body. It was nice laughing with Art during Elf and crying with him throughout Love, Actually (yeah, you saw him shed a few happy tears in the end, though he swears he hadn’t) but by the time Macaulay Culkin started making his booby traps, you were out like a light. Art looks over when he hears you snoring softly, smiling to himself before turning off the TV and making himself cozy on the left side of the bed, having only the extra thin sheet to cover himself. But if you are warm then he is fine. A few minutes later, he drifts off to sleep as well.

Sometime later, the hotel must have turned up the heating due to complaints because you awaken slightly. Drenched in sweat and mildly uncomfortable, you push the blanket off your body before falling asleep again.

But it might be because of that that you become restless, twisting and turning through the night that the next time your eyes open again, it is still dark. 

What time is it?

Groaning tiredly, you move your arm to try and find your phone on the bedside table you left it on, only to realize you couldn’t reach it from where you are. Shit, you must have moved to the center of the bed.

As you are about to move and crawl back to your side like a spineless zombie, you feel something stirring behind you, pressing itself against your backside as a huff of air from a slight snore tickles the nape of your neck. You freeze, heart beating fast. And if you weren’t awake before, you are fully awake now when a warm hand lands over your hip, touching more skin than you remember having exposed. So you peer down at yourself, and you nearly choke up, because what you see could fucking rival a Playboy magazine centerfold.

In the midst of pushing away the blanket earlier, your half-asleep mind must have also been irritated with the pajama pants you were wearing because right now, with your step-brother’s hand on your hips, you were only wearing your black mesh polka-dot panties. And not only that! Your shirt did that thing it always does while you sleep, which is to ride up your body until it’s only covering ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, basically not doing its job at all, so you have your tits out for the whole world to see!

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you are fully in panic mode.

If Art wakes up and finds you like this, he’s going to think you’re a pervert and sexual predator because you were the one who suggested that the two of you could sleep on the same bed and now you are the one who left your side of agreed upon space to press your half-naked body onto him when some time ago, he remembers you were fully fucking clothed. This doesn’t look good for you at all. This is really bad!

Oh my god, he’s going to tell his dad and then they’ll both tell your mom and then your whole family is going to hate you and then jail might be in the cards for you and then —

Art shifts again and you feel something firm grind against your ass. He groggily groans something that sounds suspiciously like your name, his grip on your hip tightening enough to draw a slight whimper from you. You swallow, mouth opening as your throat goes dry because he keeps grinding leisurely, presumably still asleep though you’re not really sure… You just know that every move he makes causes your panty to get wetter and you don’t want him to stop.

He does stop, a minute later, jolting awake and instantly freezing when he takes in his surroundings and what was happening. He stares at where his erection is pressed against your ass, only the thin layers of both your underwear keeping them apart, then his eyes travel up your bare back all the way to where your shirt was bunched up around your armpits.

Fuck… Did he do this?

Art curses under his breath, feeling ashamed as his hand on your waist loosens to tear himself away from you…

But the pretty hand that gently falls on top of his, stops him. It closes around him, making his grip tighten on your body again.

“___?” He whispers weakly. “Are you awake?”

Did you want him to stay put or is this a sleepwalking-like situation? He waits for the answer with bated breath, heartbeat accelerating.

“Yeah…” you whisper just as quietly that he had to strain to hear it even though the room was dead silent. He can feel and hear his heart pounding even in his ears when you start to guide his hand up your body, stopping just at the underside of your breast. There is a hitch in your breathing that makes Art think that you’ve decided against what you were really planning to take him. So he takes the final step cautiously, and with your hand still on his, he moves further up to grope your tender breast.

By the way you moan softly, you seem to like how he is touching you just as much as he likes touching you. Grinning lazily, he leans in closer, pressing his mouth on your shoulder with a light kiss as he asks, “Do you like this, ____?”

You were already nodding helplessly, but he adds more sensation by tweaking your nipple with his thumb and forefinger until you're bucking back into him, grinding once again on his hard cock. He hisses, stirring nearer. With a gasp, your hand moves from his hand to the back of his head as soon as his teeth nip at the skin on your neck, his tongue darting out to taste when you pull him closer.

Eyes closing, you sigh as you let his mouth work its magic on one of the most sensitive parts of you. You were loving it so much, getting so hazy with every mark he makes, that you hadn’t noticed his hand leaving your chest to slowly ghost down your stomach, his fingertips fleetingly spreading to touch every part of you he could on the way down.

It’s only when his thumb hooks under the waistband of your underwear and his mouth lifts off you with a wet pop that you realize how close he is to your throbbing center, the palm of his hand feeling so hot to the touch.

“I want to touch you,” he drawls, still sounding so tired yet also so horny. Just the tone alone makes you shiver, feeling yourself get wetter. He is playing with the cute, little ribbon on the front of your underwear teasingly as he asks, “Can I touch you?”

You look over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. Even though your sight hasn’t fully adjusted to the dark, you can already see how fucked out he looks. Heavy-lidded bedroom eyes burning you straight to the core.

A simple and shy nod was all you needed to give him for Art to use the finger that had been pressing on the ribbon to instead swipe a feel up your slit, groaning to himself once he touches the sticky, wet patch seeping through the fabric of your tiny underwear.

As he continues to slide two of his fingertips up and down your slit, sometimes stopping at your clit to give it more attention, he is rendered speechless by how drenched you are. The sounds of his heavy breathing that’s now matching with yours fill the still room instead. He thinks that the little noises you were making sounded a lot better than anything he has to say anyway.

What Art didn’t know is that you were trying to suppress the sounds, biting down hard on your lip to keep quiet, because even though you were loving every second of it, there is still a small part of you that feels guilty for the moral implications of it all. He is still your step brother after all, and you are letting him touch you intimately in a room that your mother has paid for in hopes that the two of you would get closer - as siblings, not lovers. So how fucked up is that?

But it is easy to forget all of that – no, not really forget, but forcibly push all those thoughts to the back of your mind with little to no shame when Art’s nimble fingers bring you closer and closer to coming for him.

While you squirm and whimper from his ministration, he slips his other arm under you to grab at your chest again, already missing the feeling of it in his hand. You feel unbelievably pleasant to touch, soft and smooth, even better than he had imagined. And you smell sweet too, he thinks as he buries his nose into your hair with a low whine after a particularly rough movement of your dry humping against him. He could come untouched from all of this alone, but he wanted you to come first.

“Spread your legs for me,” you do what he says without even a millisecond of hesitation, putting your leg over his to spread yourself open like he wanted. Anticipation courses through your veins, building higher with every passing moment. And yeah, maybe what the two of you were already doing before was tip-toeing over the lines of wrong, but when Art pulls your underwear to the side so your bare cunt is finally exposed for him to see – sopping wet because of him and for him only – that was the moment you both knew that this was the point of no return.

It most certainly is a really fucking morally terrible situation in almost every way, but neither of you cared anymore.

So at last completely giving into his immoral desires – the ones he had locked up tight and thought to have thrown away the keys the day your parents’ had said I do - Art slips a finger inside you, hissing in want when he feels your hot, velvet walls clench tightly around just his single digit. You are quivering already, so sensitive, and he loves that, coaxing more of your little mewls of more and please and - what gets him the most - his name with every pump of his finger in and out of you.

You start moving against him again when he adds another finger, either to get yourself to come soon or to help get him off too. Whichever it was, Art’s not complaining. To be able to feel your searing body heat pressed against him, thrusting his fingers so fast into your pussy that you are sobbing his name, kiss any part of your that his mouth lands on, and have your juices leaking down his hands was what most of his fantasies for so many years consisted of, and now he is able to live it… So yeah, he’s not complaining at all. In fact, he’s enjoying every second of it.

“I-I’m so – hnn – clo –” You gasp, back arching when he curls his fingers, pressing at that spot that has you seeing stars. Your hand closes around his wrist, the one that was flicking so hard back and forth to bring you closer to your pleasure, while your other hand grasps as the sheets of the bed. “Oh—Art!”

“Come on, baby…” Art rasps, sounding so debauched, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow circles. The hand that had been teasing your nipples the entire time moves up to grab the side of your face to get you to look at him. Now eye to eye, your wide ones staring into Art’s tender yet wicked gaze, Art commands in a drawl, “Come for your big brother.”

So you do, letting go to let the overwhelming sensation take over your whole body, from your hazy head to your toes that curl from the pleasure. As you tighten even more than he thought was possible around his fingers and drench him more with your cum, Art leans to capture your slightly parted mouth with his own.

You moan into the kiss and his tongue slips inside your mouth. Though it is still hard to think, not fully all together there yet in your mind, you think this kiss might be better than coming.

Might be.

Grabbing his hair from the back of his head, you pull him closer to kiss him deeper and he smiles against your mouth.

Once your orgasm subsides, you come to the conclusion that it’s all amazing. The way he kisses, how he touches, his fingers… All you need to know now is his cock, how it tastes and how it feels inside you.

But the way your heavy eyelids blinks slowly is not lost on Art when he breaks away from the kiss. With one last tender kiss on your lips, he slips his fingers out of your pussy and says with a warm smile, “How about we get some sleep?”

“Huh?” Confusion sets on your face when you hear this. You sit up slightly on your elbows and look towards his erection that is still straining behind his boxers. “But you haven’t cummed yet. Let me do something for you. Suck you off or…” You trail off, blinking languidly, forgetting what you were going to suggest because of how tired you are.

Art grins, finding it adorable that you are trying so hard to stay away just so he could cum too.

“No, it’s fine… I’ll just jerk off, I’ll be done in a second anyway,” Art admits, laughing.

That makes you pout. Your hand goes to squeeze his thigh as your eyelashes flutter in feign innocence, purring, “But, I wanna help… Big brother.”

You’ve never called Art that before, ever. Not even once. Because first of all, he was only a couple months older than you, and second, what the fuck?

But remembering how he used it earlier when he made you come, you thought you’d try it out. It should have made you cringe and laugh out loud at how ridiculous this all was but it didn’t. It actually made you feel a bit aroused calling him that. Maybe it is because of all the years that you’ve called Patrick ‘Daddy’ during sex that it didn’t seem all that bad to call Art ‘big brother’ now… But you have to admit, this is much more wrong. But why does it feel so right?

Art seems to think so too. A guttural groan escapes him as his cock twitches. How could he refuse that?

“Okay, let’s compromise,” Art begins, sitting up on his knees. Your eyes hungrily take in his bulge with a lick of your lips, too sleep deprived to care how cock hungry you must have looked. “I’ll jerk off like I said—“ You look away from his dick to pout up again at him, “And all you have to do is let me cum on your back?”

You like the idea, but you open your mouth to suggest another one. Before you could, Art leans down to your level until your noses are only inches apart to say, “I would rather that you’re well rested for tomorrow, sweetheart. If I let you suck me off tonight, you’ll never get any sleep… And don’t you think that when I make your poor pussy cum over and over and over again, it will feel so much better when you’re not close to dozing off every couple seconds?”

With a hard swallow, you nod in full agreement.

“Glad you can see it my way,” Art smirks, fondly pushing your hair back behind your ear before pressing a quick kiss on your lips again. Then with his hands on your shoulders, he guides you to turn over, “Now be a good girl and let your stepbrother come on you.”

You hum in content at his command, pushing your underwear down your legs and off before laying down on your stomach. When you spread your legs apart to show your glistening pussy, allowing Art to have more visual stimulation than just your ass, he lets out a shallow breath, staring once again in awe at how gorgeous you are. He then straddles his legs on either side of you, pushes his underwear just down enough that his hard cock pops out, then reaches down to gather some of your cum still smeared all over your cunt to use as lubrication. You whimper at his touch, looking back over your shoulders only to groan needily because of how nice his cock looks.

His eyes look over at every part of you as he fists at his cock, smearing a mixture of your cum and his pre-cum along his length to help him work faster. He starts with your pretty face, thinks about coming all over it, thinks about you choking on his cock with tears in your eyes. Then his eyes travel down to your back, thinks about holding on your waist while he drills into you, thinks about pressing a hand down the dip of your back so you’ll arch your ass higher for him as he eats you out, thinks about you screaming from overstimulation —

Before he could even have the pleasure to fantasize about your perfect ass or tight cunt, he comes hard with a low, drawn-out groan. For a few seconds, he is tensely stunned, hips jerking in stilted movement as he ejaculates in three streaks of white across your back. So overcome with pleasure and exhaustion, he just falls forward after his cock has softened and emptied out completely, though in the nick of time, he catches himself with a hand pushing down on the mattress to keep him up instead of crashing onto you. He mumbles a sorry and then a thank you, you answer it with a slow kiss.

When the two of you part, Art sits up again, planning to get a towel to clean you up. But he freezes when you reach a hand back. All his attention is on you as you gather up as much of his cum as you can. Then with it coating two fingers, you stuff it inside yourself with a ragged whimper and a low whine, your face falling into the pillow.

Art lays down, spooning you again. Closely, he growls a very pleased ‘dirty girl’ against your ear, causing you to shiver in content. You fall asleep with a smile on your face as his fingers join yours inside your hot walls.

[yuurei20]

Epel Facts Part 22: Epel and Vil (pt1)

Vil and Epel meet for the first time before the school’s opening ceremonies have even begun, with Epel deciding that he is going to leave an impression on his new schoolmates via violence in order to make sure that he doesn’t get bullied like he was back home. 

Vil orders Epel to button up the collar of his robes immediately upon meeting him, while Epel’s first impression of Vil is of a feeble, girly person that he wants nothing to do with.

Vil compliments Epel’s physical beauty once he gets a closer look at him and Epel takes immediate offense, calling Vil weak and girly to his face (in a line that was rewritten for EN).

It seems that in the world of Twst Epel’s beauty may rival Vil’s: during Halloween, campus visitors see him and talk about having discovered the next top model.

Vil tells Epel, “The way you dress, the way you act…even the way you think is utterly devoid of any sensibility” and Epel challenges him to a fight, which Epel promptly loses.

Vil explains, “in this school, the rule is that the weak obey the strong…since you lost, you will do as I say.” Epel fears that Vil is going to take his money or make him into an errand boy, but instead Vil orders him to button up his robes, righten his belt, comb his hair and speak more politely (in a line that was rewritten on EN, but goes much deeper than simply a change in accent.)

Epel explains that he has never beaten Vil once despite challenging him every day, and has been stuck doing what he says since, as Vil has said Epel can only act as he wishes once he is capable of taking him in a fight.

Vil’s orders include but are not limited to table manners, speech patterns, participating in Film Club activities, wiping down windows, wearing a frilly shirt with his school uniform and tying his necktie in a bow, not getting into fights, fixing his posture, reading a book a week, becoming strong, and stretching properly.

When he learns about Vargas Camp Epel responds, “No matter how bad Coach Vargas gets, he can’t be more demanding than Vil.”

Vil also has Epel carve an apple for him so that he can “try one at its most beautiful.”

Vil does not seem to be above corporal punishment, tugging on Epel’s ear, pulling at his hair, smacking him in the back and gripping onto his head to emphasize his points.

[andillneverbethesame]

hey! Could you write anything with James Potter based off the black dog by Taylor? This song has been killing me for the last weeks and I love your writing!! If not that’s okay! Have a nice day 🤗🤗

THE BLACK DOG

❥ james potter x reader

❥ warnings: cheating, smut...

❥word count: 2k

❥ a/n: i love this song sm

my ts masterlists pt 1 pt 2

"where were you?" you asked him as soon as he got home. it was two in the morning, three hours past the time he promised to come back.

he doesn't evn bother to give you a "hello" kiss on the top of your head like he used to. he doesn't even look at you. it's been like this for a while now.

"at the black dog. with the boys," he said. short answer. like always.

you knew he was at the black dog. he always forgot to turn his location off. but you also share yours with all of 'the boys': sirius black, remus lupin and peter pettigrew and you knew very well they weren't at the black dog.

so if he wasn't with them, who was he with?

the answer is a pretty ginger girl with green eyes who used to go to the same school with you and james.

lily evans.

she was someone you've always felt insecure of because of her past with james. the two of them dated for about a year and broke up just about half a year before you and james started going out.

he always reassured you and even lily told you there's nothing but friendship between them and you believed them.

you wouldn't believe them now.

"interesting," you mumbled, trying your best not to start shouting at him.

"what?" he stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned around to face you.

you shook your head and laid your head on the pillow.

james got into your shared bed about half an hour later. you could hear him sigh a couple of times and also pace around your bathroom before he decided to go and lie down with his back facing you.

"goodnight, i love you," you whispered loud enough for him to hear but. . .

he said nothing back.

--------------------------------------------------

when you and james broke up, a few weeks later, it felt like the end of the world.

this break up wasn't as dramatic as in all the movies and books. james came home from merlin knows where and said, "i can't do this anymore."

you knew what he meant. he couldn't continue pretending you two were going to be fine, he even stopped calling a lunatic whenever you brought lily up. he couldn't continue coming back home, wishing someone else was waiting for him and then pretending it's her lying next to him in bed. he couldn't continue pretending that you're both not dying inside.

when james told you that, you only nodded, whispering, "okay". there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do. all was already said and done. you were exhausted fighting for the both of you. the ship was sinking and you were going down with it.

james seemed to be surprised when you didn't start yelling at him or crying and begging him to stay. you watched his confusion. he looked as if he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"alright, then." he went upstairs and packed his things. well, not really, he was already packed. you saw his black bag stuffed with his clothes under your bed about a week ago and decided not to wonder how long it was there.

when he came back down, he saw you had not moved from the spot on your sofa.

"okay, um, well. . ." he paused. "i'm going."

you nodded, your face emotionless as you stared at the wall, not sparing him a glance.

you heard him place something on the kitchen table and judging by the sound, you figured out it was his keys to this flat.

"i'm sorry, it ended like this. i wish i could change things, but i can't. i'm really sorry." he waited for your reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to, scared you'll break down. he didn't deserve to see you cry, not anymore. it surprised you that for the first time, he apologized and sounded genuine, making the situation a thousand times harder for you.

his steps faded into the hallway. the door opened, and then closed. and after that, you finally allowed yourself to let it out.

--------------------------------------------------

despite the fact this heartbreak and the break up in general wasn't unexpected and your heart has been shattered for the past few months, you couldn't bring yourself to move on, or at least try to, and the only thing you did was grieving.

you didn't think it was fair. you tried your best to save the relationship, killing yourself in the process and yet, james was the only one leaving unscathed, his heart untouched as if the love you two once shared meant nothing to him.

you could imagine him and lily doing the thing you two used to do, too. you'd bet all your money they went out to dinner every other night, probably to black dog, or they'd have a night in with all their friends.

speaking of friends, remus was the one who checked up on you the most. he showed up at your flat at least three times a week with a different big chocolate bar every time and you two would spend time talking. you opened to remus about a lot of things, but you doubted you would ever open up up the way you did to james.

"he accidentally called lily by your name, the other day." he told you one thursday evening.

"´huh? did he. . ."

"yeah. . . me, james and sirius were out and passed a floral shop. james stopped and said, "would you wait for me, lads? i gotta buy some flowers for y/n." he didn't even realise he misspoke. and then, he came out with a bouquet of peonies even though lily told him she likes daffodils."

you almost choke on your chocolate when you heard he bought peonies. they were yours favourite.

"yeah. i told him and he just nervously laughed and went back for daffodils. . . by the way he still didn't tell his parents you two aren't together anymore so whenever mia calls and asks about you, james straight up lies to her."

you frowned at the memories of his parents. you loved them and you were going to miss them so much.

"does lily know?" you asked. not that it was any of your business. you were just curious.

"yeah. it upsets her, but she doesn't really say anything about it." he paused and sadly smiled at you. "we really miss you around, y/n. even though we all like lily, everyone is pissed at james for hurting you. even sirius. he'd come to visit too, but he's afraid james could find out."

"i get he's afraid, but james hasn't got a saying in who sirius hangs out with. just as i hadn't got a saying in who james shags," you joked. but remus didn't find that funny. "tell sirius and peter i miss them too. and that they can come around anytime they want."

"will do."

silence prevailed between you two. but it wasn't awkward. it was actually pretty comfortable.

"y/n?" remus broke it.

"yeah?"

"you'll be okay, right?"

you nodded, although if you were honest, you weren't really sure.

"i will be. i have to be."

--------------------------------------------------

in that same very moment, about five miles south, in lily evans's flat, was a couple in a heated moment.

the girl's bright red lipstick was all over his face and neck, all their clothes were already long forgotten on the cold bathroom floor as lily turned on the shower, the hot drops soaking up their bodies immediately.

james's hands traveled from lily's face to her chest, then waist, and then her ass and thighs. she whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it like a starved man.

and just then, a memory hit him hard. this has happened before. not with lily, but with you.

as james pretended not to be lost in his head while pleasuring lily with his fingers and lips, he could not stop thinking about you.

what the fuck is wrong with you? he asked himself. lily moaned his name out loud and dugged her nails into his skin. you barely think of her for whole two weeks and now you can't get her out of your mind? why now?

lily's body was shaking in the same way yours was, her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide opened with her eyes closed shut. james's mind betrayed him. he couldn't stop wishing this was you.

did you hate him? he wondered. you had to. he hated himself in that moment for what he did to you.

he wondered how you were doing. he knew remus came to visit you quite often but he never felt brave enough to ask him about you.

"james!" lily screamed as her eyes rolled back to the back of her head, snapping the boy out of his thoughts as she let her body fall into his arms.

"wow," she breathed out after a moment of silence. she glanced at james and asked, poiting at his cock, "do you want me to—"

"no," he cut her off, smiling nervously. "that's okay."

he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom completely, leaving lily standing there utterly confused.

--------------------------------------------------

six weeks since james walked out of that door and it felt like yesterday. you still missed him the same. you still hoped that he would realize his mistake and come back crawling to you, begging for your forgivness. you still missed him even though him being around was mentally draining.

you felt him everywhere in this flat. after all, you chose it together. he was everywhere. when you came home, even when you left it. you felt him in your bed and behind you in the bathroom. you felt him in your heart, soul and bones and you couldn't get him out.

"i wanna sell this flat," you told remus. "everything reminds me of james way too much. i can't do this."

"i understand. i hard alice and frank longbottom are looking for a flat. maybe you could buy alice's. do you want her number?"

"yeah, sure."

just as you were about to call alice, your phone started ringing and his picture appeared on the screen with the name "jamie ♡". you realized you still didn't change his name.

remus saw the shocked expression on your face. "what's wrong?"

ignoring him. you took a deep breath and tapped the light green button.

"hi." you heard him say, sounding almost relieved that you didn't hang up.

"hi."

"i'm sorry," he blurted out.

you sighed. "you already said that."

"i know but i really mean it. i'm sorry for how i treated you. i'm sorry that i was unfaithful, i'm sorry i called you a lunatic when you brought lily up, even though you were completely right about everything. i'm sorry for how cold, distant and rude i was for the last months of our relationship. you didn't deserve any of it. and i'm sorry."

wow. you waited for him to say that for so long.

"i-" you were speechless. "thank you, james, for your apology, i appreciate it. you are right, i didn't deserve any of it. not when i left no stone unturned while you didn't even lift a finger." he stayed quiet, knowing well you were right. "look, james, i'll forget you one day. i'll forget all of it, all of the lies and the pain. but i could never forgive you. what you did was humiliating and cruel. i never felt more unloved and worthless. i'll never forgive you for making me feel like that about myself."

"i'm really sorry," you heard him whisper.

"right now, i could say that i wish you all the best and that i hope you and lily will live happily ever after. but i'm not a liar, not like you. i really hope it's shitty wherever you are. i really hope it's shitty in the black dog.