#Those ones are CONSISTENTLY the most expensive
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It really is fascinating that SO MUCH of what's spread about Jason via word of mouth apparently came from opposite world
The other Bats keep trying to reach out and connect with Jason and he keeps pushing them away? He grumbles and pretends to hate every bit of affection they try to show him? Absolutely not! Jason is constantly trying to reach out to them and is so down to receive/give a hug that Damian successfully used it against him in combat. Like, yes, half of Jason's bonding attempts were saw traps, but being bad at connecting with people does not mean he isn't consistently the one trying and the one reaching out and the one getting rejected.
Jason loves joking about his death? The other Bats walk on eggshells around the topic for fear of upsetting each other or him? Haha nope! Not unless we're talking exclusively about the Gotham Knights video game! Jason avoids talking about it at all, because it upsets him. Meanwhile the other bats are perfectly comfortable joking about his death to his face at his expense. Like some of those jokes have been cruel. It was only before he came back that they hesitated to say anything about Jason for fear that it would upset Bruce.
Dick and the others call him nicknames like 'Little Wing' that he finds embarrassing? Nuh uh! Jason is the one who loves giving the other Bats little affectionate nicknames. Jason is cheerfully calling him Dickie-Bird and it's making Dick's eye twitch.
Jason used to hate Tim? False! Jason has basically always liked Tim, meanwhile Tim used to loathe Jason so much that I've seen serious Tim analysis say it feels out of character.
Jason holds grudges forever and ever and ever? No. Jason forgives extremely easily. Like. Unhealthy easily. Here's a small sample of some things he forgave immediately without even being given an apology: being lured to his death, being drugged and implanted with a torture brain chip, being arrested and thrown in prison, being beaten bloody and thrown out of his home and city, having his throat slit and left to die. Not being avenged is kinda it in terms of grudges, and after UtRH, I'm not even sure if he still holds that one!
Idk, like sometimes one of the bats will be sympathetic to him? (Tim in Night Terrors and RHatO and one or two other things. Stephanie and Babs in Man Who Stopped Laughing, the alternate universes of Gotham Knights and Three Jokers) But pre-flashpoint and even most of the time now, the rest of the Bats are downright nasty to him.
It's so jarring too, because you'll be in Jason's head and he's going "yeah, this is Tim, The Best of Us, and my favorite :3" and then you swap to Tim who thinks of him and he's like "yeah, that's Jason, he's an asshole but at least his brute strength is useful on the rare occasions you can get his crazy, stupid, reckless, incompetent ass to listen to reason", and it's like that with almost every character! Even Duke, who has the least screen time so far and the fewest reasons to conflict with Jason, has apparently already racked up a compilation post worth of insulting him!
I think if you ignored everything pre-flashpoint and worked very hard at cherry picking and pretended that they were laughing with him and not at him, then maaaaayyyyyybe you could come up with a selection of comics to support Opposite World Jason being real? But on the whole I think there's far more weight on the side of the rest of the Bats just really not liking the guy, and treating him more akin to a Supervillain they have a temporary alliance with than someone who they actually enjoy being around.
All the haters have done is conclude that the other characters' attitude towards him is justified. *shrug*
(also a personal buggaboo of mine that isn't a relationship thing at all: people keep claiming that Morrison wrote Jason at his most violent and that is patently false! Morrison wrote Jason way less violent than Winnick who came back in like "Hey! Stop ignoring his crimes, we worked very hard on those!! >:P" and promptly had Jason slaughter nearly a hundred people at once)
The thing is that Jason haters get his relationships with the other bats much better than people who like Jason but are generally Batfam fans.
Those characters do not like Jason, they will always throw him under the bus when needed. He's the convenient scapegoat and it's easy to just put him aside because they don't need to inconvenience themselves with his presence there.
Also, whether or not you see them as a nuclear family, they do not support the member of the family that is just a bit harder to deal with - and no one is obligated to, but the thing is that, at the end of the day, the other bats will be there for each other, but they won't for Jason, because that would be just a bit harder.
(also, before anyone says "but they tried to reach out" - no, they didn't, not in any way that would be understood as such).
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revenantghost · 1 year ago
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I feel so bad for the folks who bought those figures at $500 a pop in the last year or so, but also I deeply understand because those guys are banger
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 years ago
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What markers do you use and what kind paper? The textures are so Delicious
Very basic paper, actually! I find I overthink when using expensive stuff and it makes my sketches worse.
As for markers, I use Copics! Not that this is an endorsement (my first set were a very nice gift), but I have really liked using alcohol based markers over water based ones; lovely texture, good blending, and less streaking. However, the price can be *brutal*, and you can very easily get by with other markers + pencil crayons.
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autumnrory · 2 months ago
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i went ahead and put my newer books in their respective places as well so now the dvds are kind of ruined but they already had to be stacked anyway and i KNOW there are books on my shelf i won't want anymore once i reread them it's just a matter of doing it
but yeah my collection has grown quite a bit between enjoying the shopaholic and shadow and bone series and then filling in everything i was missing in just a couple years plus other random books here and there like i WILL get it down (the dream would be just for a time to have everything on my one big shelf but ya know who can say if that's feasible) but yeah right now between presents and book fairs or just getting things for myself it's definitely increased a lot in a pretty short amount of time
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quantum1mmortality · 4 months ago
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Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3
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Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing
!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!
Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else
Not proofread
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Sfw
I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.
I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.
When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.
Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool
If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3
He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.
He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."
After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.
He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had 😭😭 (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)
Nsfw
Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.
He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.
He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.
So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.
He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance
He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.
Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.
Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.
I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them 🙏🙏🙏🙏 sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.
The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.
Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
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A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng
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celestial-sphere-press · 2 months ago
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Book Decoration: AKA All The Ways I Don't Use a Cricut
(this post is for people who don't want to buy an expensive cutting tool, or for those that do have an expensive cutting tool that would like to mix things up a little)
1. Print That Shit
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If you're already printing your own textblocks, an easy step for titles is to print them. Above is a title printed onto an "obi" of decorative paper. I measured out where I wanted things on the finished book and laid it out in Affinity, then printed it on a full sheet & trimmed it down to wrap around the book. A more simple method is to print & glue on the label into a slight indent in the cover (to protect it). A third option is to do the spine in bookcloth, while you print on paper for the cover and then glue that paper onto the boards (this usually looks even better when it is a three-piece bradel bind).
2. Foil Quill / Heat Pens
The heat pen is one of my go-to tools, but it can be a bit touchy about materials. The most popular version is the We R Memory Keepers' Foil Quill (which is one of the most ergonomic), but other pens exist that can get you to a higher heat temp, finer lines, or more consistent foil. For example, I have a pen created by a local Japanese bookbinding studio that fares way better on leathers than the WRMK quill & with a finer tip, but it's hell to control. Best results in general are on paper or smooth bookcloth (starched linen, arrestox, colibri - even duo will work but its less solid). The fuzzier a bookcloth is, the less your foil quill wants to deal with it. This means the heat n bond method of making bookcloth does not play nice with a heat pen usually, but there are two solutions: 1) use this tutorial on paste + acrylic medium coated bookcloth instead that will get you a perfect surface for the heat pen, or 2) use the pen on paper & then glue onto the cloth. I did a video tutorial for both foil quill use and this type of homemade bookcloth for @renegadeguild Binderary in 2023.
You get the most consistent results by tracing through a printed template that is taped in place, as I do in the video above.
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3. Paint That Shit
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Acrylic paints will do you fine! The above is free-handed with a circle template, because I wanted that vibe. If you need straight lines that won't seep, lay them down with tape first & then paint over it first with a clear Acrylic medium, then your color. Same goes for stencils. Two more examples of painted bookcloth:
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4. IT'S GOT LAYERS
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By using layers of thinner boards, you can create interesting depths & contrasts on your cover. You can also make cutouts that peep through to the decorative paper behind. The most important part to this technique is the order in which each edge is wrapped. To get a good wrapped inside edge, you will split the turn in into tabs to get them to conform to a curve. You can also layer multiple colors of bookcloth without multiple layers of board, as seen below left, so long as you mind your cut edges for fraying.
5. Inlaid... anything
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Mirrors! Marbled paper! I saw someone do a pretty metal bookmark once! The key is creating a little home for it to live in, which is pretty similar to the above layering method. On one layer you cut the shape, & glue that layer onto the bottom solid board before covering. You can do the top layer as an entire 1 mm board (like I did for the mirrors) or a sheet of cardstock, like I would use for inlaid paper.
6. Decorative Paper
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Decorative paper is always helpful & adds to the paper hoard... & its effects can be layers with other techniques, as below. Marbles, chiyogami, momi, or prints & maps of all kinds can be great additions. Some papers may need a protective coating (such as wax or a sealer).
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7. Stamps (with optional linocut)
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While I've not used many more regular rubber stamps, I do know some who have, successfully! And I've used one once or twice with embossing powder (see photo 3 up, the gold anchor on the little pamphlet bind). What also works is to carve your own linocut or stamp, & then use block printing ink to ink it onto your fabric (as i did above). A bit time intensive, but it was nice how easily reproducible it was, and I liked the effect I got for this particular bind.
These methods are not exhaustive, just ones I've used, and there are of course many others. I haven't gone too into detail on any of these for the sake of length (& post photo limits) but feel free to ask about more specifics. Usually I'm using them in combination with other options.
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stevie-petey · 13 days ago
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lonely hearts club
You kiss her forehead and pull Steve up from the couch, putting your jacket on and tossing him his. “Our Valentine’s day wouldn’t be the same without someone crying or throwing up. We’re going. Dinner can wait.” Steve wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s right. This is just tradition for us. A sacred thing we look forward to every year.” “You two confuse me so much.” Nancy laughs wetly, overwhelmed by your kindness.  “We get that a lot.” Steve kisses your temple. “C’mon, angelface. The lesbians need us.”
Summary: ten valentines days with steve. some years it's romantic, some years it's heartbreaking, but for better or worse, he's your forever valentine.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of vomit, pregnancy, cheating (steve doesnt cheat)
Words: 11.9k
Before you swing in: happy valentines day !! is this a day late ? sure. but we're going to ignore that ! heres a cute little fic of valentines day with steve throughout the years. joe touring really influenced this because i made steve a rockstar but honestly it fit tbh. anyways, hope you enjoy !
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Somehow it’s always Steve who you spend Valentine’s day with.
In high school it’s because of academic obligations. You’re student body president and Steve is the president of the key club. Each year when February rolls around, the two of you are responsible for hanging pink streamers in the gym and selling enough tickets to afford a decent DJ.
Thanks to the infectious Valentine’s day yearning for love and potential makeouts under the bleachers, the Lonely Hearts dance always manages to draw in a crowd. That, and Steve promises that anyone who buys a ticket is guaranteed a dance with him.
It’s gross and highly exploitative. And also quite brilliant. 
You never cash in your ticket, though. While Steve spends the night spinning around girls dressed in pinks and reds and whites, you’re manning the punch bowl to make sure no one spikes it.
Each year, Steve finds a way to sneak gin into the cherry liquid behind your back.
“I’d stop serving little Benny there that punch of yours.” Steve slides next to you, dressed in all black with a rose pinned to his ribbed vest. He reeks, a terrible concoction of every perfume worn by the girls he’s spent all night with. 
Benny, a small, frail fourteen year old with eyes too big for his comically small glasses, hiccups. His hand is extended towards you, empty cup waiting for more. His face is flushed and he sways ever so slightly.
You sigh. “How much gin did you pour in this time, Harrington?”
“An entire bottle.”
“I hate you, you know.”
Steve laughs. “Not my fault that you never catch me.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you glare at him. “I still hate you.” Then, remembering that a severely intoxicated Benny is still waiting for his drink, you gently tap the kid’s arm. “Why don’t you go sit in a corner, buddy?”
Benny hiccups again and stumbles away. Steve snickers, but his laughter turns into a yelp of pain when you kick him in the shin. “Don’t you have girls to dance with?”
“Not if you keep kicking me like that,” he winces, rubbing his quickly bruising injury. “Jesus, are those heels made of steel?”
“Why are you still talking to me?”
“Can’t a guy talk to his most consistent girl?” 
A snort masks the reddening of your cheeks. “Real flattering, Harrington.”
“I’m serious!” Steve nudges his shoulder against yours. He’s smiling wide at you, charming as ever. “You realize this is like, our third year spending Valentine’s day together, right?”
You roll your eyes. “We’re only spending it together for a school dance.”
“Still makes you my longest running Valentine, Y/N.” He winks, smug, and you want to stain his pretty face with the cherry red of the punch before you. He’s close to you now, close enough that you can smell his expensive cologne under all the perfume that taints it.
Suddenly your mouth goes dry. You look up at him and find that he’s already staring down at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t shy away from the proximity that only seems to be growing smaller and smaller between you.
“Steve!” Heather Morgan stomps over, the ruffles of her lilac dress swishing with her forceful steps. She stops in front of you and him, though she doesn’t bother to acknowledge you. “I thought I was guaranteed a dance?”
Three Valentine’s days with Steve Harrington, countless prom committee meetings and club organization conferences, shared lunch periods and classes, all have led to the intimate knowledge of the lines of his face and how every miniscule twinge of muscle reveals everything he’s feeling.
The forced smile that he gives Heather, eyebrows drawn together and eyes dim, is nothing like the bright and overwhelming smile he gave you only moments ago.
“You’re absolutely right.” Steve holds his hand out to the girl and walks towards her. “With all the hard work Y/N put into this dance, it’d be a shame if I let it go to waste and not abide by my promise.”
Your cheeks burn at the indirect compliment and Heather simply rolls her eyes. She yanks Steve’s arm and he gives you one last weary, yet shy and gentle, smile that’s etched alongside his freckles and moles. 
After graduating and moving to Chicago for college, you figure that maybe your first Valentine’s day in a big city will be spent with someone who doesn’t get freshmen drunk and dance with demanding girls. 
Then, your first week in intro to philosophy, you meet Oliver. 
He enters five minutes late, out of breath and frantic, and blindly throws himself into the first seat he finds. In his rush, he doesn’t see you until he’s thrown his jacket off and hears your quiet, “ouch.”
“Oh, my god.” His blue eyes are wide as he stares at you in horror, taking in the scene before him. He’s completely thrown his jacket on top of you. “I-I am so sorry!”
His British accent nearly sends your brain reeling. Oliver is tall, his black hair makes his skin appear almost luminescent, and there’s a dimple in his cheek that softens the harshness of his accented vowels. 
“It’s fine,” you shrug the jacket off, too shy to say much else. He’s arguably the most perfect man you’ve ever met and it’s eight in the morning and you’re not quite sure if this is a dream. “Just… caught me by surprise?”
“Christ, I’m genuinely so sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I-I overslept and I only just switched into this class quite literally twelve hours ago and–”
“Top row,” your professor clears her throat, glaring at you and Oliver. “Is Aristotle really so interesting to you that you decide to interrupt my class in glee?”
You’re beet red, frozen in shame and fear, but Oliver simply laughs and ducks in head. “My apologies, Miss. Please, continue.”
Even the professor is charmed by his accent, and she shakes her head with a slight chuckle. She carries on with the lecture and Oliver is quiet next to you. You don’t speak for the rest of class, but during the last five minutes, a note slides across your desk.
Coffee? 
– Oliver (the dunce who threw his jacket on you)
A second coffee date follows the first. Then a third. A fourth. A fifth and sixth until they slowly turn into dinner dates. Sneaking into each other’s apartments when your roommates aren’t home. Kissing as you lazily study together in bed. 
Late January comes and you think that you’ve finally, finally, found someone to spend Valentine’s day with. Someone real and yours and lovely. 
Oliver tells you to meet him at his apartment at 7:30 for dinner. He’s promised you homemade roast, a recipe from his mother. Valentine’s day will be a quiet dinner with only candlelight as your company. No streamers or spiked punch; it’s everything you could’ve ever wanted.
“The potatoes need a few more minutes, then we can eat.” Oliver kisses your forehead as he wipes his hands with a towel. The kitchen is warm, the smell of herbs and garlic infiltrate the air. On the counter the beef is resting, its aroma enough to make your mouth water.
You take a sip of wine. “Thank god.”
“Hungry, are we?”
“A home cooked meal by my hot boyfriend?” You raise your glass. “Of course I’m hungry!”
Oliver laughs, kissing you again. “Well, good thing I have all night to feed you–”
The front door slams, startling the two of you, and someone calls out, “Sorry! Sorry, please ignore me!”
Your fingers tighten around the stem of your wine glass hearing their voice.
Oliver groans, “one second, babe.” He leaves your side, but you don’t follow, too afraid to face what’s waiting for you on the other side of the wall.
“I thought I told you I had the apartment tonight?” You hear Oliver hiss at the intruder.
“You did! I just-I kinda left my guitar here and Robin will kill me if I–”
“Hurry up!”
“What, your date can’t wait five seconds?” A laugh, pleased with his own joke. You close your eyes, imagining the scrunch of his nose and tilt of his lips; you haven’t forgotten the details of his face, even after months of not seeing him. 
Oliver mumbles something and you strain your ears to listen. He sounds upset, anxious, arguing with the other person in the room, and something akin to unease creeps into your stomach. 
“Relax, man. Just go finish that bizarre British dinner for Bianca.”
Silence. 
You set down the wineglass and finally walk into the living room. The click of your heels is the only evidence of life within the apartment. Oliver stands near the door. His eyes are closed, he doesn’t want to face you just yet.
Steve’s back is turned to you. His posture is relaxed, natural. He isn’t aware of what he’s just undone. 
“Long time no see, Harrington.” Your arms are crossed, shielding yourself from what’s to come. Your voice sounds more confident than you feel. “I guess you’re the roommate I never got to meet.”
He spins around quickly, almost falling over, recognizing your voice immediately. His childish stumbling tells you that he almost doesn’t want to believe it. When Steve’s eyes land on you, they soften, warm brown filling with fondness once more. 
“Y/N!” 
Steve steps forward as if to hug you, but then seems to remember where he is, what he had previously been talking about with Oliver. He stops, the fondness in his eyes diminishing to confusion, then slowly to anger. 
“You’re… not Bianca.” 
“Evidently not.” Your laugh is bitter. 
Steve narrows his eyes at Oliver. “What the hell, man? You told me you were dating some chic named Bianca.” He points a bewildered finger at you. “This is Y/N.”
“In my defense,” Oliver sighs tiredly, clapping his hands together in a defeated manner. “I didn’t think you’d know either one of them, so. This is just brilliant.”
“Are you dating them both?” Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. If you weren’t on the brink of crying and throwing up, you’d laugh at his poor state of shock. 
“That’s how cheating works, Steve.” You say weakly.
Oliver tries to say something, but he’s drowned out by Steve’s yelling. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Steve–” He tries again.
“No! I-I was unknowingly an accomplice in your cheating?”
“I did try to hide them both from you–”
“You’re such a jackass! I thought the British were supposed to be posh and all that-that bloody bullshit!”
You touch the back of Steve’s elbow. You’re mortified and embarrassed and you really want to cry right now. No words come out. Your mouth won’t open. All you can do is hope that your touch is enough.
Immediately Steve stops yelling. He tugs you against his chest, understanding everything the touch meant. He doesn’t care that it’s been six months since he’s seen you or that you were never particularly close in the first place. He wipes the tears that have started to fall from your eyes with a tenderness you didn’t know was innate within him. 
“I’m taking you home,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Go get your things, alright?”
Weak and numb, you do as you’re told.
“Y/N, wait–” Oliver tries to reach out for you.
Steve steps between you. The look on his face is violent, almost frightening. You’ve never seen him like this. “Don’t.”
Oliver stumbles back. It’s enough of a distraction for you to quickly grab your purse and keys, vision blurry from tears as your body shakes. Every nerve, every fiber of your skeletal body is screaming at you to run. 
When you’re ready, Steve uses his body to prevent Oliver from looking at you. His hands are gentle as he guides you to his car. He whispers reassurances, rubs circles into your back, and allows you to cry the entire way home. 
It doesn’t surprise you when Steve doesn’t leave after parking in front of your apartment. It also doesn’t surprise you when he walks you to your door and lets himself in. 
“Stay here,” he all but shoves you onto the couch before making his way to your kitchen. He walks through the apartment as if he’s done so his entire life. “I’ll be right back.”
“What are you–”
“Less talking, more crying!”
You curl yourself into a small ball, too tired to argue with Steve. While you have no idea what the hell he’s doing, you’re relieved that your roommate, Jane, is out with her boyfriend for the night.
At least someone is having a happy Valentine’s day.
Steve returns with two pints of ice cream and spoons. He’s already opened one of them and hands it to you as he plops onto the couch. “Figured you’d have a stash.”
The ice cream he hands you is your favorite flavor. You don’t remember ever telling him this. “How did you–”
“This is our fourth Valentine’s day in a row, Y/N,” Steve pokes your side. “When are you gonna stop questioning my loyalty to our sacred tradition?”
Mouth cold from ice cream and face hot from crying, Steve manages to pull a laugh out of you. It’s feeble and small and more of a grimace than something joyous, but it’s more than you ever thought was possible.
Steve laughs with you, knocking his own pint of ice cream against yours. “To Valentine's day, angelface.”
“To Valentine’s day,” you sniff, laughing again. The moment is bizarre and not at all how you envisioned spending the day, but somehow it’s wonderful and reminiscent of the years before. There’s only one thing missing. “I miss the pink streamers.”
“I’ll hang some up next year.” Steve promises, winking at you as he always seems to do, falling back in familiarity. 
You rest your head against the couch, warm, and hum thoughtfully. Steve always keeps his promises, and you can almost envision the messily strewn up streamers and tacky holiday decorations he would find and insist on using. The apartment would be full of light and warmth, and the thought makes you smile.  
“I’d like that.”
– 
Inexplicably, Steve becomes your best friend.
He all but declares Oliver dead to him and refuses to step foot in their apartment unless it’s to eat or sleep. He cuts off all contact with the guy without even blinking. You try telling Steve that he doesn’t have to jeopardize his relationship with his roommate and he scoffs at you.
“I’m giving that motherfucker the coldest shoulder known to man, Y/N. Whether you like it or not.”
And there isn’t anything else to talk about, really. 
Slowly Steve starts spending all his time at your apartment to avoid his, and you find yourself actually enjoying his company. He doesn’t stray far from your room and he always brings over extra napkins from the restaurant he works at, saving you an extra five dollars a week in household supplies.
Plus, Steve introduces you to his coworker Robin, and she’s so enthralling and chaotic and vibrant that it’s only natural that when she becomes your best friend, Steve does, too. 
Spring semester ends and Jane announces that she’s moving out to live with her boyfriend come summer. The first person you call is Steve. He moves in a week later. 
“Have you looked over the sheet music yet?” Robin has her legs tossed over your lap as the two of you sit on the couch. Steve sits on the floor, leaning his head against the couch, his hair tickling the bare skin of your leg. 
You’re watching some movie that Steve had been dying to see. It’s Valentine’s day and he’s begged you to let him watch some cheesy romance movie he saw an ad for. He claims it’s to get into the holiday spirit, but you know it’s because he has a crush on Patrick Swayze.
Robin tagged along because she has a crush on Jennifer Grey.
“Hey, doofus!” She throws popcorn at Steve’s head when he doesn’t respond to her question. 
“Can you at least aim for my face?” He flicks the popcorn out of his hair, cringing. “The butter makes my hair feel gross.”
You ruffle the locks, shaking his head in the process and he swats you away, albeit without any cruelty or malice. “Could be from all that hairspray you drown it in.”
“I’m with Y/N on this one,” Robin leans forward, invading Steve’s space with ease. “Anyways, did you read the music or not? Kelly wants your opinion before our gig tonight.”
“Why does she care what I think?”
“Because you’re the lead singer?” Robin looks at you. “Do you think all that hairspray has rotted his brain?”
You shrug. “Probably.”
Steve flips the both of you off and you giggle together at his annoyance. Ever since meeting Robin, making Steve’s life as miserable as possible has become your favorite thing to do together. 
Robin then asks again about the song and she and Steve fall into a conversation about Kelly and her obsession with their other bandmate Connor and whether or not the song is actually good or if it’s just another attempt for her to win him over. 
You watch them talk with a lazy smile. They become so animated when they discuss music, and you admire how well they work together. It doesn’t surprise you that they formed a band together after only being friends for two days. They take music seriously, obsess over it in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite understand, but that you will always admire.
“You’re coming to our gig tonight, right?” Steve suddenly turns to you, eyes pleading and hopeful. 
“Where is it again?”
“The Vexture. We go on at ten.”
Robin has turned her hopeful eyes to you as well and you shift uncomfortably. The Vexture is a grungy club that’s always packed with people looking for someone to call their own, and given the fact that it’s currently Valentine’s day, it’ll only be worse.
The thought makes you nauseous. 
Steve sees you grimace and he immediately throws himself into your lap. “No. Absolutely not. You have to come.”
“I haven’t even said anything–”
“You were going to bail!”
“I–I wasn’t!” 
Robin pinches your cheek. “You’re a terrible liar, dear.”
You try to argue but Steve covers your mouth. You thrash underneath him, completely opposed to his body weight on you and his grimy hands covering your mouth, but he’s freakishly strong and Robin is a traitor who helps him hold you down.
“Look, Y/N.” Steve’s hair falls in your face. “We all know that last year was rough.”
“Fuck Oliver!” Robin shouts, wringing her hands together as if envisioning choking him. 
“What she said. Anyways, you took a hard hit. It’s understandable. But I refuse to let you spend Valentine’s day all alone, alright? You haven’t dated anyone in months. You’re coming tonight.”
You want to bite him, to kick him off and pinch his skin, but you know he’s right. Deflating, you cross your arms and reluctantly nod. 
Steve and Robin cheer, jostling you around, and despite the annoyance and fear you’re feeling, you can’t help but laugh at their childish joy. 
“Love the enthusiasm, but can you guys get off me now?” You croak out in between laughs. 
They scramble off the couch and Robin helps you up. She fixes your hair and kisses the tip of your nose. “We have three hours to make you irresistible tonight.”
“I’m not dressing up–”
“You have no free will when it comes to me.” Robin smiles wickedly and grabs your hand, pulling you to your room, having long forgotten about the movie that’s still playing in the background.
“Can I join?” Steve calls after the two of you.
Robin slams the door in his face.
The Vexture is loud and overflowing with people by the time you get there. The lights are dimmed and Robin has to hold your hand as she guides you through the crowd. Since they’re performing, they’re allowed to cut the long lines and are able to get you the best seats in the house: backstage.
“You made it!” Kelly throws her long and lithe arms around you. She smells of vanilla and honey and her hair is tied in loose knots. Glitter adorns her eyelids and pink hearts dot her cheeks. 
“I’m being held against my will,” you shout into her ear, hugging her tightly. “But I’m here.”
Connor pats your back and chuckles. He’s matching Kelly’s heart theme with a pink heart painted on his own cheek. “Well, at least you’ll have a good time!”
Steve hands him a guitar and checks his hair in the mirror. Robin dressed him in a white button down and demanded that he leave the first four buttons undone. The exposed strip of skin from the base of his neck to the swell of his chest burns your lips. 
“We ready?” Steve pulls you by the waist, flush against him, and winks at his bandmates. 
Kelly and Robin cheer and Connor slams his drumsticks together. A cheer of your own tumbles from your lips, allowing your body to lean against Steve’s, and his fingers dig into your side as his chest rumbles with pleasure. 
The crowd erupts when they get on stage. They all get into their places. Robin with her keyboard. Kelly and the bass. Connor behind his drum set. And Steve, front and center of the stage, smiling into the mic as his fingers pick at his guitar. 
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He’s a natural on stage. People scream his name and he plays into it with such confidence and charm. Steve smirks, knowing he has the audience in the palm of his hand. “That’s what I like to hear!”
He plays the first few notes of the song they’re starting with tonight. Easy and light. He’s setting the audience up, tempting them, leaving them wanting more. 
Steve grabs the base of the microphone and tilts his head at the crowd. “Who’s here with their Valentine tonight?”
Almost everyone cheers and whistles. Hands get thrown into the air and lovers kiss the smiles off each other’s face. 
“Hell yeah!” Steve laughs, high on the energy in the room. He plays a few more notes, turns his head away from the crowd as he does so. You watch him, curious, and find that he’s looking at you. 
When he has your attention, Steve laughs again and goes back to the mic. He’s smiling wide, cheeks pink. “You know, I’m also here with a Valentine tonight.”
The audience gasps and cheers and claps for him. Robin wolf whistles, loud and obnoxious, teasing eyes looking only at you. Kelly snickers and Connor points one of his drum sticks at you, clutching his heart dramatically.
The apples of your cheeks pinch together a glorious red and Steve can’t take his eyes off you. His eyes, soft as they always are when he looks at you, are like molten earth. He smiles into the mic again, unable to look away from you.
“This is our fifth Valentine’s day together,” he tells the crowd, smiling so much he’s almost slurring his words. “I kinda hope that this angelface will always be my Valentine.”
Robin whistles again and the roar of the Vexture is so loud now that you can’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in your head. Steve screams along with the crowd and Connor counts the band in and there’s music all around you and dancing and Steve’s sweat drips down his chest and there’s a burning deep within your stomach.
He’s beautiful. 
You hope that he’ll always be your Valentine, too.
– 
Sophia enters your life early junior year. You find her in your kitchen one morning wearing one of Steve’s old t-shirts, and you make her a cup of coffee.
She’s nice. Her hair is bronzy and she has incredible green eyes and an angelic laugh. She studies English and she’s the only other person besides your classmates who has read Plato, so you’re honestly quite fond of her, and you can see how Steve falls for her hard and fast. 
Robin, however, has other thoughts.
“I don’t trust her.” She says one day in January. Steve is at Sophia’s, so you invited Robin over to bake cookies and watch the latest episode of a show you both enjoy. 
You frown at her. “Why not? I think Sophia is nice.”
“Ever notice how the only way we can all collectively describe her as is nice?” Robin shivers. “What kind of psycho only has one personality trait?”
Well. There isn’t a lot you can argue with there. Sure, everyone who has met Sophia has liked her, but when you think about it, Robin’s right. They’ve all described her as nice, maybe quiet, but always nice.
“I think you’re just overprotective of Steve.” You try to defend. You like Sophia. She’s become a very loose, very distant, acquaintance. “Just give her some time.”
“They’ve been dating for months now, Y/N. She creeps me out.”
“Sophia isn’t some off putting creature, Robin–”
“Guys!” Steve barrels through the front door. You and Robin both scream, but he ignores your terror and throws himself at the two of you. “How much do you guys love me?”
Robin responds with, “how much money do you want?” while you reply, “depends on the day.”
Steve breathes heavily, grasping your hand. “I need you guys to please, please do me the biggest favor.”
“Did you kill someone?” You pull your hand away, weary of the scene before you.
“What? No! I just–” Steve inhales sharply. “It’s Sophia.”
“I knew it!” Robins screeches, but you jump and cover her mouth. She tries to scream through your silencing, but her words are muffled and jumbled. 
You smile at Steve awkwardly. “Don’t mind her. What’s going on with Sophia?”
“She wants to go on a double date for Valentine’s day.” You and Robin stare at him as if he’s insane, and Steve groans. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, alright? But she-uh. I guess she’s had some shitty Valentine’s days in the past and thought it’d be better if we had other people with us? As a safeguard?”
“That’s…” Concerning, you want to say, but Steve is staring at you, pleading, and you really don’t feel like dealing with his anxious monologues. “Interesting.”
He rubs his face. “It’s insane, I know, but I just… I really like this girl, you know? So if one of you could just–”
“I’m out.” Robin raises her hands and you shoot her an incredulous look. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I actually have plans this year and I really don’t feel like spending them with Steve.”
“And you think I don’t have plans?” You ask them, offended, and Steve looks at the ground and Robin suddenly finds the tile very interesting. “Okay. At least pretend that I have some dignity.”
“I’m sure you have a lot of dignity, angelface.” Steve tries to amend. “And you’d have even more dignity if you went on a double date with me and Sophia. I’ll even find someone to be your date!”
In theory, it sounds like your worst nightmare. Spending a night with a loved up Steve and Sophia while you’re with some guy you met only hours ago. All because Steve’s girlfriend doesn’t feel comfortable enough spending Valentine’s day alone with him.
But Steve has had to hold your hand through a nasty breakup and other horrific dating exploits since then. He’s held your hair up when you’ve been sick. Makes you your favorite snacks during busy exam seasons. He cleans your room when he knows you’re exhausted. 
Steve is your best friend. The least you can do is this. 
“Fine,” you finally give in. “But the guy better be hot.”
The guy Steve finds you is, in fact, incredibly hot. His name is Max and he meets you and Steve outside the restaurant dressed in a well tailored suit. 
“Where’d you find this guy?” You whisper to Steve while Max isn’t looking.
“He knew Connor in high school.” He whispers back. “Makes a lot of money. Works in finance.”
Your mouth drops, but you quickly cover it up when Max opens the door for you and Steve. He’s a perfect gentleman and rests his hand on the small of your back. “You guys been to this restaurant before?”
“A few times together, but I don’t think my girlfriend Sophia has been here yet.” Steve sits down and grabs a menu before checking his watch. “Actually, she should be here by now.”
Max’s face twists slightly. “Her name is Sophia?”
“Max?” Sophia, rushing towards your table, stops and gasps out his name as if she’s been stabbed.
“Oh, dear.” You set down your menu. Something tells you that there won’t be any eating tonight.
“Sophia?” Max nearly falls to his knees in front of her, eyes shining at the girl as if she’s hung all the moon and stars with her delicate fingers.
They stare at one another, neither moving, and Steve looks between them with a bitter taste in his mouth. “So… you guys know each other?”
Sophia winces and Max coughs.
You grab your purse. “Steve, why don’t we head home–”
“What’s going on here?” His voice is strained. He looks at Sophia and you see the upset he tries to suppress. The clench of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. “Soph, who is this guy?”
“He’s no one, I promise–”
Max steps forward. “We dated for a few years.”
“Years?” Steve exclaims.
“Broke up on Valentine’s day last year, actually.” He looks at Sophia with a pained expression. “I… I missed you.”
Steve falls against his seat in disbelief. Sophia holds the base of her throat in a weak attempt to soothe herself.
“You’re really not helping, Max.” You glare at him, rubbing your friend’s shoulder as he sits at the table, mourning. Steve’s mouth doesn’t seem to be able to close and he’s looking at Sophia as if trying to silently plead with her to tell him that none of this is real.
Except is it, and Sophia closes her eyes. “I-I can’t do this, Steve.”
Her apology sends the chair flying back as he stands abruptly, desperately reaching for her in the crowded restaurant while you and Max remain silent. “Wait, can’t we just–”
“I should go.” She’s crying and the green of her eyes are a startling shade of brilliance. She really is quite lovely; the beauty breaks your heart. Steve calls after her as she leaves. 
You hold him back. He screams at you to let him go, but you know that this time you have to be the one to break his fall. To catch him as he caught you the year Oliver broke your heart. There are tears in his eyes and his hoarse voice begs the girl to stay, but she’s long gone. 
Max stands there in the wreckage. He doesn’t know what to do or who to follow. 
“Just go,” you tell him, pulling Steve back down to sit. He collapses into your side, too ashamed to cry and too exhausted to care. He’s weak against you and your arms encase him. Max doesn’t move, and your voice raises before you can stop it. “Go!”
He listens, and the other patrons in the restaurant watch as yet another person runs from your table. A waitress gives you a pitying smile that you don’t reciprocate.
Steve hides his face in your neck and you gently cup his cheek to make him look at you. “Hey,” you say when his eyes finally focus on you. “Let’s get you a drink, okay?”
He drops his head on the table with a defeated sigh. “Give me whatever liquor they got.”
“The stronger the better?”
“Yes.”
“Coming right up.” You wave a waiter down and order four shots and two beers. Steve doesn’t say anything while you order, but he does shift closer to you once the waiter is gone.
The buzz of the restaurant is low, though full of laughter and conversation. You sit with Steve, fingers stroking through his hair as his head remains on the table. He lost all sense of pride the moment he begged Sophia to stay, so he allows your nails to scratch his scalp.
Drinks get set on the table and Steve throws both of his shots back before you can even pick one of yours up. He wipes his mouth and cringes at the taste. You stare at him, slightly concerned. “Alright over there?”
“Need more liquor.”
You stroke his cheek. “How cute. You think I’m going to let you drink your sorrows away.”
He bats your hand away. “I don’t know if you’re all caught up, but I just got dumped on Valentine’s day, Y/N.”
“And?” You laugh at him. “That happened to me too, buddy. You’re officially a part of the lonely hearts club. How’s it feel?”
Steve drops his head back onto the table. “It feels like we’re fucking cursed.”
“I’ll drink to that,” you clink your beer against his. “Cheers.”
It’s quiet for a while. You finish your shots and sip slowly at your beer. Steve remains hidden away at the table, refusing to sit up and face the reality of heartbreak. You allow him to take all the time he needs, replenishing his drinks when he runs low. He’s quiet, but he knocks his knee against yours every time you squeeze his hand. 
I’m here.
Thank you.
The chatter in the restaurant dies down and you pay the tab and help carry Steve home. He’s significantly more drunk than you are, and you’re relieved that you chose to eat somewhere close enough to walk. He stumbles the entire way home and you have to cling onto his hand so that he doesn’t fall.
Steve drags your body onto the couch the second you open the apartment door. He collapses on top of you. His arms hold your waist and his nose presses against your neck. You bring your hands to his hair and sync your breathing with his. 
“Think it’ll always be like this?” Steve murmurs after a while. “You and me and goddamn Valentine’s day?”
Six years of sharing the holiday together. Six years of being each other’s person to spend the day with and draw cheesy cards for. Six years of laughter and tears and secret glances and inside jokes. 
Six years, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.
“We’re best friends, Steve.” You whisper into his ear, lips brushing skin. “Of course it’ll always be like this.”
He shivers at the sensation of your lips. Alcohol burns through his system. He finds himself upset that he drank tonight. He wonders what would’ve happened had he not met Sophia. If he had taken you to the restaurant alone and left sober.
Steve wonders if he would’ve kissed you then. If you would’ve let him.
But he had met Sophia. He’d taken you to the restaurant to have dinner with her. He got drunk tonight to forget the way she tasted. You walked him home because you couldn’t trust him to take care of himself. And now he’s too afraid to kiss you because he knows it could ruin everything he’s so carefully built with you.
He falls asleep to your heartbeat.
– 
“Who gets married on Valentine’s day?” Robin tugs at her dress in disgust. “I mean, that should just be illegal.”
You help her fix her dress and shrug. “I don’t know. I think it’s sweet.”
“That’s because Steve’s walking you down the aisle tonight. You’re biased.”
“He’s the best man and I’m the maid of honor,” you poke her stomach. “It’s quite literally tradition to walk down the aisle as a pair.”
Kelly, who has been fixing her makeup the entire conversation, peeks her head from behind the mirror. “To be honest, Connor and I did intentionally plan for Steve to walk you down the aisle.”
Your jaw drops. “Kelly!”
“The two of you are just so cute!” She laughs. “You’re two of our closest friends. We want what’s best for you, so Connor and I figured we’d just give you guys a little push.”
Robin rolls her eyes. “Believe me. I’ve been trying to get them together for years now. What is this, your eighth year of being each other’s Valentine’s?”
Your head whips to her. “It’s only our seventh. And what do you mean you’ve been trying for years?”
“I’m practically the reason Steve moved in with you. He wanted to live with me months before you asked him to move in. Naturally, I’m a prophet, and I told him no. Now here you guys are, walking down the aisle together. Tada!”
“Oh my god.”
“I mean, it worked!” Robin frowns. “Well. Sort of.”
You’re speechless and Kelly takes pity on you. She walks over and rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, I love you. Connor and Robin love you. Steve loves you. You know that, right?”
“I…” You’d be a liar if you said the thought never crossed your mind. Especially after the breakup with Sophia. You’ve always been close with Steve, but in the last year there’s been this shift that you haven’t been able to describe.
There’s coffee waiting for you every morning. He holds your hand and strokes his thumb against your palm. Steve ends up falling asleep in your bed most nights now, wrapped around you as his breath warms your skin. His own room has slowly been turned into a makeshift studio for his music. 
Sometimes you catch Steve staring at you, and sometimes the heat of his gaze doesn’t scare you. 
But sometimes it does.
“Why are we even talking about this?” You deflect, setting your eyes on Kelly and her gorgeous veil. “You’re getting married in less than an hour. Can’t we talk about that?”
“Babe, all I’ve done for the last year is talk about this goddamn wedding. I’m the bride and right now I demand that we gossip.”
Robin laughs at you and you’re about to make up some excuse about needing to go organize the roses again when the bride’s door opens. Kelly yelps and covers her dress as you and Robin step in front of her to block the intruder’s view.
“Relax,” Steve holds his hands up. “It’s just me. Unfortunately, I’m not the groom.”
Kelly shakes his head at him fondly. “What do you want, Steve?”
“Connor sent me here because apparently I lack the ability to shut the fuck up and it was stressing him out.”
You snort and Robin hunches over as she giggles. Kelly smirks. “Yeah. I believe that.”
Steve sticks his tongue out at the three of you, and the conversation from earlier gets dropped. He helps you and Robin with the rest of Kelly’s makeup. He irons her dress, showers her with compliments, and your heart constricts every time he touches the edge of your silk dress with childlike wonder. 
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He whispers when it’s just the two of you. The door to the aisle hasn’t opened yet. The rest of the wedding party stands behind you, waiting. 
A blush coats your cheeks. You loop your arm through his and bask in his fondness. “Thank you,” your hand rests on his chest. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
And he does. Steve is cruelly beautiful in his suit. His tie matches the lace of your dress and you want to pull the end of it and bring his lips to yours. He stares down at your lips and you wonder if he’s thinking about yours, before the music starts.
The door opens. Down the long, carpeted length of the church stands Connor. There are flowers everywhere and Steve grabs the hand that rests against his forearm. He squeezes it, takes a deep breath, and together you walk down the aisle. 
During the wedding Robin cries. The vows are exchanged and she has to cover her mouth to contain the sobs that spill from her. Steve catches your eye from across the pew and the two of you smile at your friend, your love for her forming into one. 
Sometime late into the night Steve finds you. He hands you a drink before promptly dragging you to the dancefloor. You protest, shy, but he doesn’t listen.
“I told myself I’d dance with the prettiest girl at this wedding, angelface. And it just so happens that that girl is you.”
You laugh at him, following his hands as he guides you through the motions of dancing. “Don’t let Kelly hear you, otherwise she’ll strangle you.”
“Let her,” Steve spins you, eliciting more giggles to fall from your pretty lips. “I’ll die a happy man now that I’ve danced with you.”
“That was disgusting.”
“And charming. Don’t forget charming.” He spins you again before bringing your bodies even closer together. “You know what this reminds me of?”
You gaze up at Steve. “What?”
“The Lonely Hearts dance.”
Exasperated laughter follows his confession. “You’re really thinking about our high school dance right now?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Every year I was dying to dance with you.” Steve’s thumbs stroke up and down the sides of your waist. His grip on you tightens. His voice lowers and you recognize the adoration that paints his brown eyes. The air between you stills. Steve dips his head, his forehead brushes yours. “And now I finally got that dance.”
You don’t breathe. If you do, you’re afraid that the exhale would shatter the fragility of this moment. 
“Was it worth it?” You don’t recognize your own voice and the breathy way it comes out. Your hands move up Steve’s chest and snake around his neck. His head knocks against yours, your noses centimeters apart, lips separated by inches.
You feel Steve’s smile more than you really see it. “You tell me.”
He kisses you, cradling your body as if it were made to fit into the crevices of his palms. Lips move against lips and your skin hums at the sensation of finally welcoming him home. His skin greets you with a soft tenderness and your lips coat his mouth with sugary sweetness.
“Get a room!” Robin throws a napkin at the two of you, forcing you apart, and when you come up for air you see the biggest smile on her face. 
You hide in Steve’s neck, embarrassed, though not enough to not leave small, fluttery kisses on every mole your lips can find. You’re already addicted to feeling him shiver beneath you.
“Seems we have a wedding to plan for next year!” Connor raises his beer and points at you and Steve, cackling loudly. 
Kelly is next to him and she kisses her husband’s cheek and beams at him. “It took ‘em long enough!”
“Do you guys mind?” Steve pulls you away from the dancefloor, glaring at his closest friends who all love him endlessly and whom he loves even more, and basks in your giggling as he whisks you away. “I’m trying to kiss Y/N here!”
“Use protection!” Robin calls out while Connor and Kelly whistle and cat call. 
Steve finds an empty closet and no one can find you for the rest of the night. Kelly never lets you live it down, Connor commends you for the bravery, and Robin has to wipe away her tears.
– 
Your first semester of senior year, Steve and Robin’s band gets signed. The record label is apparently legendary because they collapse onto the ground screaming when they get the phone call. Twenty minutes later, Connor and Kelly are at your apartment screaming alongside them.
Two weeks later they book tickets to New York and you help Steve pack his bags. Everything happens so quickly and it’s almost nauseating trying to keep up.
“We’re in the studio from nine to five every weekday, so I’ll call you every day at six.” Steve folds a pair of jeans and hands them for you to place in his suitcase. “Weekends I’ll call you at five so that we can eat dinner together.”
You give him an odd look. “Don’t you want to go explore the city while you’re there?”
“I mean, sure. But I can do that during the day. The moment the clock strikes five or six, it’s my girl’s time.”
“Steve…” You’re so stupidly in love with him sometimes. “I don’t want you worrying about me while you’re there. This is a huge opportunity for you.”
“Who said anything about worrying about you?” Steve walks up behind you and kisses your neck. “Angelface, I’m worried I might die after the first week without you.”
Your hands brush through his hair. “You’ll be fine, Stevie. I guarantee that in five days tops you’ll be having too much fun to miss me.”
“Wrong. I will be talking everyone’s ears off about you and will probably get banned from a lot of bars because of it.”
Sighing, you turn and face him, pressing a soft kiss to his brow. “Steve, it’s only for a few months. Each day we’re apart will be one day closer to being together.”
“How about no days apart and every day together?”
You kiss him, slowly and drawn out, as if time is on your side and you’re in excess of it. Steve hums against you, tightening his arms in a lazy hug, and you know that you’ll miss him forever.
The first few weeks are hard without Steve. You’ve never lived on your own before and you’ve never really spent a day without him since you were eighteen. Now you’re twenty-one and there’s no one to kiss you awake or make faces in the mirror with you as you brush your teeth.
What’s worse is that Robin is gone, too. And Kelly. And Connor.
Their absence makes you realize that you direly need other friends who aren’t in a literal band together. 
Steve keeps his promise and calls you every day. He always asks about how your day has been, he tells you every detail about his. He tells you that he’s started writing all his thoughts down in a notebook that he wants to tell you so that he doesn’t forget, and it makes you ache even more. 
The months pass by slowly. December drips into January and then February greets you with her winter’s kiss. There’s snow in Chicago and even more to come, and you know Steve will be excited to see it when he gets back.
Which coincidentally happens to be Valentine’s day. 
And also the day you get violent food poisoning. 
After months of being apart, the first time Steve sees you again is with your head in the toilet bowl, hacking up your lungs and dying. 
“Oh, Jesus.” He drops his bags and comes running over, immediately gathering your hair so that you don’t get it dirty as yet another wave of nausea hits you.
“Welcome home.” you say in between bouts of bile. Truly, you think this is a new low that you’ve reached. Here you are, deathly ill and incredibly sweaty, while your lovely boyfriend has just arrived home after months of missing each other. “Sorry that you have to see this.”
Steve rubs your back and sits with you on the ground. “Don’t be ridiculous. Even spilling your guts out I think you’re hot.”
“That’s sweet,” you throw up again. “Would you be a dear and kill me now?”
He laughs, massaging your tender body, and doesn’t once leave your side. He flushes the toilet for you when needed. He gets a rag and soaks it in cold water and rubs it across your forehead to help regulate your fever. He hums to you when your stomach twists in pain. 
Eventually the nausea settles enough for you to ask Steve to carry you to bed. He does, and he sets you down gently before crawling in next to you. He fits your body against his, hand on your stomach as if he himself can ease its ache. 
“I’m sorry,” your voice is raspy, the acidic bile still lingering. “I’m sure this isn’t the grand reunion and Valentine’s day that you had in mind.”
“I’m laying in bed with you and you love me.” Steve kisses your overheated forehead. “That’s all I ever want for Valentine’s day.”
Your eyes fall shut and you exhale shakily. “I just… I wanted our first Valentine’s to be special. I had it all planned out. I rented your favorite movie and bought all the ingredients to make the gnocchi you love so much, and then as I was folding the laundry I just-I died.”
“Food poisoning. America’s silent killer.” Your laugh rings in Steve’s ears and he smiles, kissing your face again and again and again. He runs his nose down your chin, brushes the hair out of your face. “Besides, this isn’t our first Valentine’s. I’m counting all the ones we spent together single and lonely whether you like it or not.”
“The fifth one wasn’t so bad,” you muse. You still remember the roar of the Vexture as Steve announced that you were his Valentine. “You were annoyingly charming that night.”
“That was me declaring my love for you, you know.”
You turn to him, startled. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope.” Steve clutches his chest. “There I was, telling the love of my life that I wanted her to be my Valentine forever, and then in the end she friendzones me. Truly brutal stuff.”
“But that was years ago! We were nineteen, there’s no way in hell you were actually in love with me.”
He grabs your hand and kisses it. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen. I was just waiting for you to like me back.”
The idea of Steve being in love with you since you were kids nearly sends you back to throwing up. You’re overwhelmed by it. By the idea that someone could’ve loved you for as long as he has. That he still loves you now. For nearly a decade.
“Y/N? You got all quiet over there. You alive?” Steve pokes your cheek and it’s then that you know that there was never anyone else for you. You were his from the moment he walked into student council and demanded cleaner mirrors in the men’s bathroom.
“I love you.” You tell him. They’re the only words created for what you have. 
Steve scrunches his face in an endearing manner. “I love you, too.”
“Now tell me all about New York.”
And he does.
– 
Robin tells you that tour life is romanticized and that within the first week you’ll strangle her and Steve to death, but you don’t believe her. When you see the size of the bus the five of you will be staying in for months on end, you start to second guess what she’s said. 
“It’s… cozy?”
Connor huffs at you. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“It’ll be fun, guys!” You try again to make light of the situation, though really you also don’t believe what you’re saying. “I mean, think about how much closer we’ll be after this.”
“Weren’t you a philosophy major?” Connor looks at you skeptically. “Isn’t the whole schtick of those old white dudes pessimism?” 
Steve throws an arm around you. “She graduated top of her class, actually. And yes. Those old white dudes loved being bitter bitches.”
“I think Y/N’s right.” Kelly joins in now. “We’re a family. It can’t be that bad.”
“Famous last words.” Robin mutters.
They are, in fact, famous last words. 
Connor learns that he gets car sick easily on day two. Kelly learns that she has a fear of car sickness on day three. Robin leaves her keyboard at one of the venues they play at the second week and doesn’t realize it until you’re already at the next venue an entire state away. Steve loses his voice after the sixth show and spends the entire bus ride to the next venue sulking.
You, however, are honestly having a great time. You didn’t get to travel with the band last year due to school, and now that you’ve graduated, you’re enamored with seeing places that aren’t native to Illinois or Indiana. 
“Steve, if you gargle salt water in my ear one more time, I will shave your head in your sleep.” Robin threatens during week four. Her eye is twitching and you truly do believe that she has a razor hidden somewhere.
“I have to protect my voice.” He argues, pouring more warm water into a cup before mixing salt in. “I can’t lose it again!”
“That was a pretty rough show.” Connor says from his bunk. Being nearly 6’4, he barely even fits in it. His legs hang off awkwardly and he’s been complaining about his back for weeks now.
“I thought Robin sang pretty well.” Nancy, the band’s tour photographer, says quietly from the makeshift kitchenette. She joined during the third show and you think Robin’s been in love with her since the fourth one. 
“Uh, thanks. I guess.” She squeaks out, hiding behind you in a not so subtle manner. You pat her hand, sympathetic. 
Steve gargles and spits the water into the sink. “Robin has an incredible voice, I agree. But that’s besides the point. We’re on the clock full time, even if we don’t have a show tonight.”
“And tell me, my dear wife, why we don’t have a show tonight?” Connor sings to Kelly.
“Why, my dear husband, I do believe it’s because it’s Valentine’s day and Stevie over here demanded the night off so that he can court our beloved Y/N.”
Steve rolls his eyes at them and you laugh. “In our defense, we haven’t exactly had a normal Valentine’s day together. We’re in dire need of one normal night.”
Nancy tilts her head at you. “But aren’t you guys together?” 
“Yeah, but we weren’t for a while.”
“One Valentine’s day Y/N found out her boyfriend was cheating on her, who also just so happened to be my roommate.” 
Robin throws her head back and shouts, “Fuck Oliver!” And Connor and Kelly join.
“Thanks, guys.” Steve turns back to Nancy. “Another year I made Y/N go on a blind double date with me and a girl I was dating at the time. Turns out, the guy I brought for Y/N was also the ex boyfriend of my girlfriend. So that was fun.”
“One year we actually walked down the aisle together. Before we were even dating.” Nancy’s eyes widen and you shrug at her. “We were in the same wedding party.”
“Happy anniversary, babe.” Connor blows a kiss to Kelly and she catches it, blowing him one back.
“And last year I got horrendous food poisoning and Steve had to drive me to the hospital since I was so dehydrated. He cried filling out my paperwork.”
“I did.”
Nancy looks between you and Steve. “And this year, you guys will…?”
“I’m taking Y/N out to a nice, totally normal and totally romantic dinner. I’m going to wine and dine my girl and then we’re going to cuddle in our way too small bunk bed and sleep.”
You beam at everyone. “It’s a pretty good plan.”
Except you and Steve don’t even make it to your reservation. Later that night, right before you call a taxi, Nancy bursts through the bus door with a frantic look in her eyes. You drop the phone and rush to her. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Robin?” There are tear stains on her delicate face. 
Steve’s body tenses. “Last time we saw her was when she left with you guys, why?”
“I–” A broken sob prevents Nancy from telling him anything else, and you take her into your arms.
You soothe her, your own worry for your friend setting your body on edge. Steve shares a look with you, both wondering what the hell is happening. Robin left with Nancy and the others hours ago to go check out some local bar, and now here Nancy is, crying in your arms, with Robin nowhere to be found.
“Nance,” drying the girl’s tears, you try to get her to calm down enough to speak. “I need you to breathe with me, okay? Take a deep breath and then let it out slowly.”
You inhale, so does she, and after several seconds you exhale long and slow. Nancy’s breath stutters and her tears soak the white blouse she looks so delicate in, but still she breathes.
Steve stands over the two of you, arms crossed with his eyebrows pinched together in worry. He taps his foot and you know it’s taking everything within him not to tear down the entire town to find his best friend.
“What happened with Robin, Nance?” Steve gently asks her, crouching down to her eye level. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”
Nancy wipes her face and sniffs. She can’t look at you or Steve. Her eyes face only the ground as she picks at her nails. “We… We kissed.”
“That’s…” Steve looks at you, silently asking if he should be elated or concerned, and all you can do is shrug helplessly at him. “That’s-that’s great, right? I mean, you two were totally love at first sight. Like, Romeo and Juliet but without the, you know. Death. I mean, at least I hope there’s no death, but seeing as you’re currently crying I’m a little nervous–”
“What my boyfriend is trying to say is that we’re happy for you guys, but also a little concerned.” You interrupt Steve’s ramble. “What happened after the kiss?”
Nancy continues picking at her nails. Her crying has subsided but her face remains broken and anguished. Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth draws into a thin line. “I-I kissed her, and then she just… She ran.”
“Shit,” you sigh, dropping your head.
Steve throws his own head back and curses as well. “Another category five.”
“Yup.”
Nancy turns to you. “Category five? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
You wince, grabbing her hand in hopes of quelling her sudden anger. “Look, Robin is…”
“A gem.” Steve finishes for you, and you nod at him.
“She’s my best friend, and she’s incredibly brave and charismatic and bold. I’ve seen her punch men five times her size. She always speaks her mind and never takes no for an answer, but she’s also vulnerable. She hides a lot behind her humor.”
“When I first met Robin, she was going through a pretty rough breakup.” Steve sits next to you and Nancy now. “And since then she’s become the worst person imaginable when it comes to dating. She always freaks out and leaves the relationship before they can leave her. And a category five freakout is… bad.”
“We’ve only seen it once before with some girl she met at a gig a few years back. They kissed and Robin locked herself in the bathroom and refused to leave until the girl was gone.” You tuck Nancy’s hair behind her ear. “We aren’t telling you this to scare you, we’re telling you this because you clearly love Robin, and she loves you. She’s just… she’s been hurt before.”
Nancy slouches on the couch. “But I don’t want to hurt her! I didn’t even mean to kiss her, but she looked so pretty under the purple lighting and was laughing at some stupid joke I made and-and suddenly we were kissing and it was incredible and then–”
“Category five.” Steve mimes an explosion with his hands. You glare at him.
“How about this, we’ll find Robin for you and bring her back here. I think the two of you just really need to talk about this.”
Steve raises his hand. “I personally think they just need to makeout.” You elbow his side and he groans in pain. “Yeah, okay. That was fair.”
“I can’t ask you guys to do that.” Nancy sniffs. “You were so excited for your date tonight and you’ve already done enough.”
You kiss her forehead and pull Steve up from the couch, putting your jacket on and tossing him his. “Our Valentine’s day wouldn’t be the same without someone crying or throwing up. We’re going. Dinner can wait.”
Steve wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s right. This is just tradition for us. A sacred thing we look forward to every year.”
“You two confuse me so much.” Nancy laughs wetly, overwhelmed by your kindness. 
“We get that a lot.” Steve kisses your temple. “C’mon, angelface. The lesbians need us.”
Nancy nearly chokes on her laughter and you giggle as well. The bus door closes and it’s just open road before you. You’re in the middle of Wisconsin with nothing but grass and dirt for miles ahead. Wherever Robin ended up running off to, you sincerely hope it’s close.
In the end, you and Steve end up walking nearly two miles to a nearby gas station and find Robin face deep in a pint of ice cream. Her cheeks are smeared in chocolate and her puffy eyes are red. The moment you find her, Steve throws himself into her arms and you hold them both as she starts to cry.
It takes several conversations, many tissues, and a few threats before you’re able to convince Robin to walk back to the bus with you. She freaks out the entire two miles and Steve has to fully pick her up at one point to prevent her from fleeing, but eventually you’re standing in front of the bus door with Robin’s iron grip on your hand.
“I-I can’t do this.” She chokes out, short of breath as panic sets in again. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“You can,” Steve pokes her cheek, though his hand rubs her shoulder with affection. “And you will.”
“What if she hates me now?”
You hook your chin over Robin’s shoulder, butting your head with hers. “Then we’ll be here to catch you, dummy. But we won’t need to, because Nancy is currently pacing the bus waiting to kiss your pretty face again.”
Robin’s body tenses and she gets ready to run, but Steve swoops her into his arms and you yank the door open so that he can throw her inside. She screams, but you slam the door shut and Steve helps you keep it closed as her fists pound against it.
“Let me out!” Robin screeches, throwing her body against the door.
“Kiss and make up! Those are the rules!” You scream back, clenching your teeth to keep your footing. 
Robin screams again and Steve has to throw his entire body weight back to keep her inside, but eventually her anger exhausts her and soon there’s only silence within the bus. You and Steve press your ears to the door, breaths held so as not to miss anything, and faintly, very faintly, you hear Nancy’s soft voice mixing with Robin’s embarrassed tears.
Stepping back, Steve holds his hand for you to high five, which you gladly accept. “God, we’re great.”
“The best matchmakers this town has ever seen.”
Steve tugs you against him and holds you close to his chest, inhaling your scent and humming in content. You melt into him and he holds you for a while, just the two of you, swaying softly together as the gentle February wind dances around you.
“I think year nine went pretty well.” You murmur into Steve’s skin.
He buries his face in your hair. “I have a feeling year ten will be even better.”
The band’s breakout album, Angelface, becomes an instant success. It tops every chart, critics praise it, fans scream along to all the songs, and Steve claims that you’re the reason for it.
“I name an album after you and suddenly it sells a million copies overnight.” He nips at your neck, humming when you writhe beneath him. “You’re my good luck charm, angelface.”
You want to tease him and call him crazy, but when his hand comes up to massage your breast through its thin fabric, your moans drown out the noise in your mind. 
Connor and Kelly buy a house with a studio built inside of it. The band rehearses there every day in preparation for their next album. Robin brings Nancy along, the two of them always giggling quietly to themselves in between sessions. Nancy becomes the band’s official photographer. All the photos are of Robin. 
Steve surprises you one day with the keys to your own home. He tells you that the second the money from Angelface was his, he went out and bought the house the next day. The home is much bigger than the apartment you once shared together, though small enough to still feel intimate. There are mahogany floors and a bay window in your bedroom and you couldn’t be more in love with it.
February comes and Steve sits you down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper in front of him. 
“Alright,” he says, setting his hands on the table with an air of authority to him. “Valentine’s day is approaching. We know what that means.”
“That disaster is ahead.” You nod solemnly, following along.
“Exactly, so here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to make you a fancy dinner without anything that can possibly get you sick. No eggs. No meat. No dairy. Nothing prone to yacking.”
“Not sure what that leaves you with, but I’m listening.”
Steve writes everything down. “There will be only electric candles because I’m now terrified that the only disaster left is a house fire, and I spent a concerning amount of money on this house.”
“I fear the same.”
“Perfect. I’ll get us some wine and a movie to rent. Our landline will be turned off so that absolutely no one can contact us. We’re going AWOL here, Y/N. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
You lean forward and place your head in your hand. “What if Robin tries calling, though?”
“I love her, but we landed her a girlfriend last year. She owes us this Valentine’s day.”
“Touché.” 
Steve looks down at his list. “Okay. Am I missing anything?”
You think for a moment. “No, I think that’s all, just don’t forget I have a doctor’s appointment that day so I won’t be home until a bit later.”
“Already accounted for that. I’ll be buying undisclosed decorations for the house to surprise you with.”
“Undisclosed? How many spy movies did you watch before this?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
True to his word, Steve does decorate the house while you’re gone. You get back from your appointment and your home is an explosion of pinks and reds. There are streamers everywhere and a small disco ball hangs from your living room ceiling. Music from your high school years plays softly in the background and the house smells of acidic tomato and garlic. 
“Steve?” You call out, breathless as you walk towards the kitchen. He’s spared no expense. The floor is littered with roses and there’s wine waiting for you on the table with small electric candles flickering in the darkness.
“Do you like it?” You turn around and find Steve holding a bouquet of roses, dressed in a familiar tuxedo. It’s all black and his ribbed vest has the same rose pinned to it that it did back when you were in high school trying to stop him from pouring gin into the punch. 
Your heart beats wildly and an overwhelming mix of emotions simmer in your stomach. “You’re…”
“The best boyfriend in the world? I know.” Steve grabs the wine and pops it open, pouring you a glass. He hands it to you with a wink, but you don’t accept the drink. He tilts his head in confusion. “I thought you loved red wine?”
“I-I do.” You’re quick to reassure him. “But after my doctor’s appointment today, I’m not so sure I should have any.”
Your heartbeat spikes again and Steve sets the glasses down immediately. He’s at your side a second later, worry for you written all over his handsome face. “You said it was just a regular checkup. Are you alright? Are you sick again? I-I can drive you to the hospital, just let me turn off the stove before we actually do have a house fire–”
“Steve,” your voice cracks with love and warmth. He looks up at you, pink lips parted in a small frown that you want to kiss better. “I can’t have wine for nine months.”
“Nine..? That’s an oddly specific number.” His lips turn downwards. “Is it like, some type of allergy now, or–?”
“No, Stevie.” You cup his face with a smile. Grabbing his hands, you bring them to your stomach. His palms lay flush against your abdomen, warm, and something in his face shifts. His eyes widen slightly, soft air escapes him, and your face burns from how wide you smile. “It isn’t an allergy.”
“You’re–?” He doesn’t want to say it, afraid that if he does, that if he’s wrong, his heart would be broken in an irrevocable way.
You nod, brushing his hair back. “I’m about ten weeks along.”
Steve sinks to his knees, dropping his head to your stomach and staring at it with an innocent gaze of love. His eyes fill with wonder, with tears. “Y/N.”
He whispers your name like a sacred prayer, lips pressing to the flesh over and over again as your fingers tangle in his hair and your joy coats his skin. 
“I know we’re young, but…” You whisper down to him. “I want this. I really, really want this.”
“I want this, too.” Steve slides his hands up your body and stands, cradling you in his arms while his face buries itself into your neck. You can feel his tears wet your skin, the slight trembling of his body. “God, I want this.”
Your lips ghost the shell of his ear, down the veins in his neck, the crest of his collarbones and the lines of his jaw. Steve pulls you, closer and closer and closer, until your skin is his and his breath is yours. 
“Happy Valentine’s day, Stevie.” 
Steve smiles down at you. His face has changed since you first met ten years ago. The lines around his eyes have deepened slightly, his boyish smile is now more charming than endearing, and his jaw has become more defined.
His eyes, however, are the same eyes you fell in love with all those years ago. The toffee brown still reminiscent of the student council meetings you always bickered in. They’re still soft when he looks at you, open and lovely as they were at the Lonely Hearts dance. 
There is still so much love that is embedded in Steve’s hand woven features for you. His hands stroke your stomach and your lips are against his. The excess of love is syrupy thick. 
All it took was ten Valentine’s days.
-
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midnite-c6 · 27 days ago
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Please please please please, Kim Seo-wan smutty smut... Ever since I read your Seo-wan x Reader I couldn't help but fall in love with that man more than I already was, so... PLS. if it doesn't maik ya uncomfortable obvs (⁠。⁠•́⁠‿⁠•̀⁠。"). ((TAKE UR TIME!))
YAYAYSYXTDGEGSYT I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WANTED TO LET HIM INN BYE ugh i want him (respectfully) added squid game tags since most of you guys watched ddos cuz of roh jae won and i want other ppl to see his role here! <3
kim seo-wan nsfw headcanons <3 || warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, fingering, fluff
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∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° first of all, his daily routine consists of studying, gaming, and being schizophrenic making him not have time for all those romantic, especially physical affection kinda stuff, so you have to convince and show him! it wouldn't be difficult, he's still a guy after all, let alone a guy who plays those "gooner" type of games, and to put it simply: he's a virgin.
when he starts dating you, he'd add a new lesson to his routine: porn. he's already failing his other exams, he doesn't wanna fail you!
no bias guys, but he is a touchy dude, and a kissy one at that. your lips are his revival potion, the taste of your lips is healing his whole being, same goes for your other set of lips, when he found out you make cute cute sounds while he eats you out and make out with your cunny? oh he has defeated that dragon. damn. "y...you like it here, right?" he'd take a small kitten lick on your clit, making a soft moan elicit your lips. his hands on both sides of your waist, holding onto you tightly as if you'd run away from him. "mhm.. there's good.. s'good." he's happy for your praise, lapping his tongue up and down faster, you could feel him mumble a mantra of "you're s'..yummy.." against you, you were so tasty, he loved it so much. he wouldn't even take off his small circle-framed glasses, being pushed all the way to the bridge of his nose. "ah... seo-wan..♡" you could feel the metal frame hit your twitching clit, it was a different kind of feeling.
when you guys are finally comfy, you both know study dates are cute n' all. he'd have his headset on, listening to music, a hand to flip the textbook's pages, and his other arm to be hooked around your waist, holding you securely. you'd be doing whatever too, you liked his company anyway. but whenever studies get stressful and hectic, he won't lose the chance to grope your soft tits, they're the best stress relievers after all. he's definitely a boob guy. "ah.. y/n. move closer, please? .. need ..easier.. access.." i fear he is very touchy, clingy, he doesn't want to let you go.
cosplays!! oh, when you guys save enough money, he absolutely loves to do cosplays with you! he's very grateful your character has little to no clothes, he'd savour your body everytime it's spread on his bed and would treat you like a princess for real. tell him he's super duper strong, it will make him cum in seconds. :< probably accidentally rips off your expensive cosplay too, makes you mad, obviously, but will fuck you as a consolation prize.
he's more of a giver than a receiver, he just wants you to be happy and pleased all the time! ...also makes you overstimulated every session. his fav part on himself is his hands, he knows how fond you are to them, foreplay always takes long because his fingers are stretching your poor hole for hours <3.
again, he barely has the time to do full-on sessions, but when he does, he's gonna make you a squirting mess. holding hands while fucking is sooo real <3.
"mmfh.. don't leave me, okay? stay.." he 'reminds' you, slowly pushing his dick back inside your hole, his thumb pressed firmly on your clit, how were you gonna leave him anyway? he was holding onto you like you'd escape! "i.. won't seo-wannnn..." "ahh... good girl... my healer..." he whispers, kissing you softly, his mind is definitely in another world right now, atleast you're in it. (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
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someone requested seo-wan x patient!reader so I AM GONNA FO THAT NEXT HELL YEAH
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lvrboy-inc · 2 months ago
Text
“Siren” — K.M.
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꒰: Précis | After a shitty breakup with a subpar man, you find yourself drawn to the lights and sleaze of the nearest bar. Drink away your problems or fuck and forget them with the bartender who’s hot as hell.
꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Incubus Bartender!Satoru x virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise, coercion, praise, spitting, hair pulling, PRAISE, pet names (♡)
꒰: Word Count ; 10.2k
꒰: Sweetest Sin Masterlist
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“You seem tense, handsome..”
————
Starting your night off with a shitty breakup and one two many drinks might’ve not been the best route to take. In hindsight at least.
Your co-workers had already urged you to break it off with the less than desirable man who could barely breathe without working your nerves and not only that—trying to make you work in the bedroom. 
It was an endless cycle of  “You get on top, work for me.” and never him using the hips that God gave him to work you out—always ending in a resounding turn off, consistently followed up with, “Next time for sure.” So, after he had started an argument, ending in trauma being spat out in a fit of anger, you felt thankful, grateful, blessed even that he gave you a reason.
But..all breakups are hard to get over. Whether they were a long time coming or not, it’s always a shitty experience. 
What’s always the best unhealthy coping mechanism for such..? A drink, of course.
“A drink.”
That was the intention..but you wound up getting more plastered than expected and crying out your woes to the bartender who had only asked whether you’d be putting things on your tab or card for the night. 
He was charismatic—maybe because of the job description and having to be a poster boy for such a place. Sweet talking drinks into vulnerable people so he could get tips and points from his boss for making them profit. It was a good hustle, respectable and fun.
Not to mention..he was damn good at it.
After a bit of a slurred exchange of words, you’d gotten to know a few things about him: His name, Satoru, Satoru Gojo. 28, graduated college with a psych major, infinitely and criminally tall—6’3 to be exact—and to your surprise, swung both ways. Often.
You found yourself asking stupid questions just so he would slide your way from the other customers.
“I’m starting to think I should cut you off,” He teased after about the 5th call over.
You raised up your head to rest in the palm of your hand, running your index over the rim of the golden-lined glass he’d refilled so many times now. Some of it you drank, most of it you babysat. “I’m pacing myself alright..” You’d slur out with a mild puffing of your cheeks.
“Oh yeah? Your cheeks are flushed, hun. Unless that’s just from staring too long.” The way he pointed out your fluster so obviously couldn’t have made it go down any.
“You’re too cocky..‘m holding over fine.” A bit snippy but he laughed heartily, drying off a used glass with the hand towel he’d kept attached to his hip. 
Even from this distance, you could just tell he smelled nice. Maybe it was the already alcoholic aroma that the rather sleazy place held but you could’ve sworn there were hints of cologne—expensive cologne—that mingled with it. 
Those piercing blues he had, barely dimmed out by the lighting of the establishment flickered over you and a slick smile spread across his lips. “Then, please, I’m at your disposal. Need another drink, pretty boy?”
An initial sound of surprise came with the name but you turned away from him slightly and blew a stray strand of hair from in front of your eyes. “No..”
“Ah, so you did just want to talk to me.”
“Shut up..don’t you have a job to do?” You quickly retorted with a harsh roll of eyes. 
Shrugging, he waved a small goodbye. Not before adding on a small, “You’re technically a part of it..”
And in another moment, you were back to eating up the eye candy. In your mild boredom, you opened up your phone to see your shitty ex spamming you across every platform imaginable—TikTok, Insta, Snap, Facebook, hell, he went as far as to email you. He was hooked and just seeing the mass notifications made you want to throw the whole device away.
That’s when you got a really..really bad idea.
About an hour went by and the promiscuous bartender had paid you a few more stops of his own volition. Each encounter got more and more..suggestive, to say the least.
From mild flirting to him finally saying, “My eyes are up here, you know.” when yours were drifting.
“Obviously..but that’s not really the objective.” 
He visibly was caught off guard by your comment, going as far as to lean his arms forward onto the bar top, eyes now boring into your soul it felt like as he purred out a response. “Oh? And what might your objective be? You’ve been eyeing me since you walked in, can’t help but feel you undressing me.”
“I’m not some sort of pervert—you’re making it sound worse than it is.” Furrowing your brows slightly, he tilted his head in that oh-so innocent fashion.
It was hard to not crack a smile.
“I am,” He admitted smoothly, now actively ignoring a small trio of women at the end of the counter. “But, you didn’t answer my question.”
With one last adjustment of his neck, he was staring right at you. “What’s your objective here, pretty boy?”
“Is it not obvious?” 
“Terribly. But, I’d just love it if you could use your words. Give me something worth listening to and blowing off customers for.” His tone, his posture, his eyes—God, this is what true temptation feels like.
Working up the courage which..didn’t take long, thanks to liquid confidence, you squared your shoulders a bit to meet his gaze properly. “My objective is you. Is that so hard to piece together?”
“Don’t talk about things being hard right now.”
A round of silence and you were pulling a pen out of his breast pocket, you went along and grabbed his notepad as well. “And what are you doing now?”
“Giving you my cell..obviously.” Quipping back, you started to jot down the series of numbers before his slender fingers were pulling the parchment down so your focus was back on him once more.
He flashed that award-winning smile and stood up straight again. “No need. My shift ends in 30.”
Oh, he was confident.
“Make it 25. My place or yours?” 
Finally, the women at the end had gotten more than impatient and wound up calling out a not-so passive, aggressive, “Bartender!” from down the way to which he cast a small grin your way.
“Duty calls.” He said briefly and then, he was gone again. Was he serious..? Maybe the drinks were really just getting to you but Lord..the way he spoke to you, sized you up—he wanted to talk about undressing people with their eyes? Please. 
You could almost feel how he was defiling you in his head.
Among other things, you decided to down the rest of your drink and ultimately did put it on your tab. Once he’d taken down his apron and you had gathered the remnants of your heart that had led you to this point, you both were walking out with an air of civility…
Such a stark contrast to the debauchery that was promising the night.
Initially, you’d offered to take your car but he waved a hand with a chuckle, pointing over to a white Mustang GT sitting pretty in the parking lot. “I’ll get my co-worker to keep an eye on your ride for the night. You can come get it in the morning, ‘kay, handsome?”
“Should I feel insulted..?” 
He looked around for a bit before looking back down at you. “I don’t know, are you into that sorta thing?”
“Do you always talk to people like this?”
“Hm, like what?” Peering in closer, he dug his keys out of his pocket, twirling them around his index for a moment before resting them in his palm.
Crossing your arms and beginning the path to his car, you spoke, “Like a slut.”
“Are you not one too, though?” He drawled, purposely keeping his strides slow just so you could keep up easily in your dwindling intoxication. “I mean, you came to my place of work, talked me up, now, we’re heading back to your place—is that not slut behavior?”
You got ready to make another smart comment but wound up falling short and simply digging an elbow into his ribs that elicited a pained groan followed by light laughter. 
He was enjoying this way too much. 
Even on the ride home, he wouldn’t let up in his relentless teasing fit. With the low rumbling of the smooth engine carrying you across the streets of the night city, he held one hand on the wheel whilst the other rested on the gear shift. 
Every so often though, he’d try and drift his fingers over..over and up to your thigh which made you crane your neck to give him a sideways glance. “We’re not even halfway there yet..” You chastised lowly to which he moved his hand down, giving your thigh a playful squeeze instead of the devilish wandering it’d been doing before.
“Oh, I’m sorry, is foreplay not your thing?” Scoffing lightly, he shook his head and briefly peeled his eyes away from the road to look over you once again—it was becoming a habit. “I thought maybe you’d be as eager as I am—seeing as you’re the one who came onto me, after all.”
Rolling your eyes instinctively, you turned to face the window a bit. “Barely..I gave hints and you took them to ten fold. And I do like foreplay, seeing as my ex lacked the ability…I just wouldn’t want it to wind up with us fogging up these windows.”
“Please, I wouldn’t fuck you in my car,” He said it quick, as if he was a bit offended at the proposition. “I respect my baby better than to make a mess of either of you in here.”
That shut you up rather quickly.
You let your head make a small thud against the cold glass with an audible, “Hmph.” But, it was rather deterred when your hand moved over his, dragging it up further until it basically rested on the junction of your hips and leg. He didn’t make a comment and neither did you, save for the way your body spoke, pressing your thighs lightly together to hold his hand there.
Regardless, the rest of the drive was calm and when you’d arrived back to your quaint condo, just a bit out from the center of the cityscape, he turned the keys out of the ignition and got out of the driver’s side door. 
Moving to open up the door, you started to get out before he was right there in front of it, closing it back. “What the hell?” You exclaimed, given the roughness of the pushback.
He took a few moments before opening the door so gently and leaning down to your sitting level. “You’re trying to rob me of my gentlemanly status, pretty boy. Can’t have that now, can we?” With that, he extended a flat palm your way which you took—not without a low, grumbled string of complaints at his dramatacism. 
You fumbled with your keys for a split second before getting up to the door. Satoru loomed behind you, making a small shiver trail over your spine—that cologne was his.
Once getting inside, you were greeted by your precious feline companion who, instead of rubbing against your ankles, circled through Satoru’s. He gave a deep laugh of amusement, crouching down to scratch behind the furry friend’s ear to which he purred and mewed in response. “What’s its name?”
“His name is Dot.” You gave back, just the slightest bit jealous that the cat had taken a bigger liking to the house guest than the man who fed him every day. “He usually doesn’t like house guests..” A mild jab at the pet who was jingling and purring as Satoru catered to his sweet spots.
Though..after enough time and playful back and forth, just getting to know one another, flirting..whispering..trading spit..things got much more hot and heavy much quicker than you expected.
Once he’d had his tongue down your throat, it tasted..sweet. Not even in the metaphorical sense but like a literal syrup—an addictively sweet taste that had your head spinning..hazy, even. 
Your back was already flat against the bed and he was taking his time..so much so you were getting impatient. Breaking the seal between your spit-drenched lips with a soft pwah, he was breathing right into your mouth. He trailed his hand up along the column of your throat and finally, a thumb was swiping across your bottom lip, pressing down on it just to get a glimpse of your lower set.
“Somethin’ wrong..?” God..how did he sound even more sultry than before..? All panting, just as his low-lidded eyes fell on yours. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now..”
Just for a moment, you were speechless. Now, you were really feeling the effects. Kissing’s never felt this good before..ever. And that haze from before? It was becoming a lot more prominent. “My head..feels weird..” You breathed out, finding yourself gradually heating up..from the inside.
“Ah, you’re catching on, pretty boy.” Catching on? To what exactly?
Instead of giving any sort of reassurance, his knee was creating friction along your jeans that were already straining. It was all so warm..hot, burning..something was off and all you could trace it back to was the man on top of you now. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten an easy mark like you..you really did make this way too easy, handsome.” He purred, trailing kisses and nips down your collarbones—exposed by your loose hanging shirt—and down, down, down.
It was so heated, every touch he showered your body with, even the simple action of him sliding his fingertips under your tee and dragging the fabric up was enough to make you squirm.
“What are you..talking about..?” You managed to say, relatively snapping back to a bit of reality. Despite how he was already kissing down from where your ribs connected under your skin, past your midsection and laving his tongue over your navel—it was obvious he was avoiding your questions.
Deft fingers picked apart the button of your pants, leaving them hanging open until he was back over top of your face. Satoru was analyzing your features, each twitch and shift in expression—the effect he was having on you. 
It was utterly adorable.
Watching that stressed, pretty face all night, going from ranting and raving about a man who could hardly be called such to opening up into his own drunken desire and now laid out underneath him—fuck, it was a head rush.
“You seem tense, handsome..” The name rolled off his tongue like a vice and you could’ve sworn you were hooked. “Are you finally realizing what you got yourself into, hm?”
It was only a second. You blinked, eyes already squinting through each glance up at him and before you knew it he wasn’t..him anymore. With each passing open and shut rhythm it was something:
First his teeth, he was speaking but God knows you weren’t tuned in. Then the hands that had once been so soft, neatly cut and filed down grew into something sharp—clawed. And finally, there were those damn horns. You wished, hoped prayed that you were just too out of it to really be seeing straight but..it was real.
That cute bartender, the one who had teased and teased, led you on and wrapped you around his finger for the night..was a demon. An incubus at that—which, when it dawned on you, became even more of a problem.
Obviously, the first reaction was panic, a widespread “fight or flight” response that gradually was dimmed out. Next thing you knew, he was laughing..like, genuinely, cracking the fuck up. He could see the struggle in your eyes, the burning want, the need to fight back but oh..that little party trick from earlier was doing its job.
“Shh, shhh..it’s alright, nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about. Relax f’me..thaaat’s it..” He was speaking so slowly, so tauntingly, it felt like he was dumbing you down with his voice alone. “Fun fact about incubi—their spit counts as raw aphrodisiac..”
He leaned in closer, licking away a stray tear that had rolled down to the peak of your cheekbone before disappearing onto the warmth of his tongue. “And another fun fact..you kiss like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Already, his mouth was in desperate need of some soap.
If it’d stopped there, that would’ve been ideal. You could barely think straight, poor thing. A little too turned on for a first time, scared out of your wits, and still..still wanting to go further. You wanted him to take you further.
“Don’t you worry about a siiingle thing,” A low purr would escape him as his hands’ earlier work at your shirt finally finished, sliding it up and over your head until it was then pulled right around your wrists—he made it so. “Let me do allll that fuckin’ work for you. I told you you’re a part of my job, didn’t I..?”
You took in a shuddering breath, head instinctively flicking over to the side with a subtle roll of your hips. Oh-so absentmindedly your movements were..because as his nails made their tracings along your skin—from your chest, where he leaned all the way down just to shower your sensitive buds with the utmost attention, to how his palms then rubbed over your hips—you were just grinding.
Grinding it out on the rough fabric covering his knee as he steadily worked you over. His tongue felt..different. As in, before, it was..softer, more inviting, cute even. But now..? God, it could’ve wrapped around your cock twice and still reach the base with ease. That was a bet.
He was reveling in the series of whimpers and whines that you drenched his ears with, each one offering up a low, vibrating chuckle against your chest. 
“Mhn.. ‘Toru..” Damn, was that your voice speaking..? Where did all this “Toru” business come from..? Whatever..all you knew was it tasted like heaven in your mouth and like a siren’s call to his brain. “S-stop fuckin’ around already..demon, incubus or not, you got me hot and bothered so deal with it—properly.”
A round of tutting left him as he finally detached himself from your now-swollen nipples, only to go back in to land a bite and minor tug on one of them. Already, the action alone had your legs trying to close up around his, stomach fluttering just from the feeling of his sharp canines digging in. Oh you knew he left a mark. You could already feel it.
Just as quickly as he doled out his physical reprimand, he was back to his affectionate, lewd lapping at your nub, alternating between each and giving whichever was orally unattended, pinches and rolls between his fingers. “I thought you liked foreplay, pretty boy..don’t tell me you got a little impatient and changed your mind?”
“You’ve got the brain of a whore and the body of a virgin—what kinda joke is that?” Sitting back on his haunches, both of his hands crossed over his pelvis, gripping the ends of his shirt as he tugged it off over his head. In all honesty your body had a reaction to that—a small gasp that he undoubtedly heard as well. 
The shocking part wasn’t even the sheer cut of him, no, but the pair of wings that accompanied. A dark, charcoal black that differed so heavily from the pure white that his hair adorned. Stemming from his chiseled shoulder blades like a stalk.
His attention ran right back to you as he readjusted himself between your legs, both hands snaking to your inner thighs as he parted them like a sea: slow and deliberate. One of them trailed up further..coming to rest just before your groin where he splayed his fingers out.
“Hey,” A more baritone call for your attention as he stared you head on. “This is gonna really suck while I’m not inside you so..hold out for me, ‘kay?”
Rubbing soothing circles over where his fingers had found purchase, he rolled his hips forward, cracking that smile that was now sullied by the sharpness of his once-straight and narrow dental set. “You can hold out f’me, right?”
He wasn’t even asking. He talked like it was a fact.
“Nah, I know you can..you can take anything I throw at you..” Before you could even deny it, to tell him to reevaluate his expectations of your threshold, it was in motion. 
The surging energy that he flowed out into your lower body first, then the crackle of electricity that followed suit, gradually descending into a sickening ache inside that felt like an inferno needing to be quelled. You squirmed and writhed, fragile fingers threatened to tear up your sheets as your strained voice caught up in your throat. 
Eyes squeezed shut as you grit your teeth so hard you thought they could’ve cracked from the pressure. He was murmuring words of praise, encouragement, of urging you to endure it. And after a bit, it was less painful and more just a throbbing need that already had you breathless.
“Haah..fuck, what is..God..” The last name was said like it was the worst of profanity as you finally worked up enough gall to look down. Once his hand lifted from its place, that’s when you saw it. 
Right there, just below where your stomach ended and your happy trail began—a fucking womb tattoo. 
No, like, for real. It was engraved in your skin, staining your flesh that same charcoal black with the intricate scrawl of abstract twists all centered around a hollow heart design. 
Fuck how it looked though—your body was screaming.
Just from the proximity alone from Satoru, it was getting harder to breathe, harder to even think straight and his pants weren’t even off yet. Was this the power of a real fucking demon? Able to bring a man to his knees with just a few well-placed touches and words of slutty promise?
“Toruuu..it burns..” A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you ran your hands down to try and soothe the ache. But not only with your shirt tangled up along your wrists but one of his own pinning them back against the headboard, you were stuck. 
That roll of his hips had gotten bolder, more rhythmic..you could feel how much he was into this. Not only by the way he seemed to do it mindlessly, his breathy pants and the slight flutter of his abnormal appendages, but God..the fucking print.
Oh, it was fucking big.
Here he was, trying to keep you under control when he seemed like he would burst at the seams with one wrong move. “I know, I know..I feel it too, baby..” This whole time, he’d been rather composed—you know, while making you fall apart—but even now, it seemed hard for even him to keep himself under control.
“Tell me,” There went that damn tone again, though, instead of that cocky arrogance, it was almost desperate. “Do you want this as much as I do..? Don’t think with your dick right now, as hard as I know that is to do that right now…”
Trailing off, his free hand cupped your jaw, making blown pupils meet the zeroed. You could’ve gotten high off the eye contact alone at this point. “Say the word and I’ll stop—you won’t have to remember this ever happened. You’ll forget everything about me, your body will go right back to how it was and..I’ll be gone.”
“But I’ll miss this face..those eyes, your voice..oh…” No matter how much he was prioritizing you, how much he meant every word he said..he couldn’t help but pray, beg for God to do him a solid and let you say yes to this. “Come on, pretty boy..”
“Talk to me.”
It was less of an asking and much more like a command. Your hesitation was so evident in the way your breath hitched with each labored inhale and exhale. The proposition was set but the real question remained unanswered—were you really about to give up your virginity to an incubus..?
Well..yeah.
Making sure you never took your eyes off him, after what felt like an eternity, you uttered, “I crave it, Toru..please, don’t get me all the way here and leave me..I need you. Need to feel you in places I don’t know exist…” And with a final batting of your lashes, you breathed, “..need you to fuckin’ ruin me.”
That did it.
“Goddamn your mouth is so fuckin’ nasty,” Like a flip switched in his brain, he was on you. Gone was the gentle caress of his kiss—replaced by the starved devouring of your lips, teeth and tongue as he finally got serious. “I cannot wait to break you the fuck in.”
And by God did he mean it in every sense of the word. 
His hands were everywhere: your hips, thighs, face, anywhere he could get a feel for you. A feel for the heat that you were radiating and pouring off in gallons. It didn’t take long at all for him to start tugging at the rest of the clothing that was keeping him from what he was gunning for.
Bits and pieces of fabric stripped away like nothing but an inconvenience before being discarded into the growing pile of articles on the floor. Once you were laid out bare in front of him, you faintly caught wind of an instinctive, “Fuck..” Slipping from his mouth before he was already hooking your leg onto his shoulder. 
Even in his haste, he was handling you with sooo much care. His bites felt like nips and grazes before he was leaning in closer..further up until the heated inner of your thigh was burning the side of his face. He stayed there for a moment closing his eyes like he was an aerosol fiend.
But oh, oh when those glaciers met your gaze again, he bit down, hard. Those canines of his were a force to be reckoned with because the yelp that tore from you upon the breaking of skin was awful.
“What the hell, Toru..?” You complained, furrowing your eyebrows down into an expression that was meant to be scolding but you couldn’t deny the way the new addition to your skin was twisting your perception of pain and pleasure oh so deliciously. 
And boy did he know. One turned into two and gradually, your thighs were stained with his saliva and the clear imprint of his teeth—slightly bloodied and hickeys for daaays. 
At one point, you’d closed your legs up around him, a feeble attempt at a timeout but he wasted no time in prying then right back open, lowering his head enough to lick a looong, slow stripe up your neglected cock that had been sitting so pretty on the sidelines. 
You really were acting like a virgin—the simple lick making your hips lift up just a bit before the contact was taken back away. A whimper of protest was heard at the loss of sensation and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “Ahh, is that what you want, pretty boy? Hm?”
Although his eyes were on you right now, he couldn’t help but feel the effects of not only smelling—seeing, touching, breathing—but tasting you on his tongue. All the while with both hands busy and his pants seeming like the greatest obstacle on Earth. But he digressed, bringing up a sharp-nailed hand to press his palm down juuust enough to glide up and dig your length a bit further against your stomach.
“Wanna feel my mouth giving all my attention to this cute cock of yours, hm?” A drawl of a question and you were already getting driven up the wall by the physical aspect that came with it. “Come onnn, what did I say about using your words, sweetheart?”
Did he like..need you to die in the process of all this?
A simpering moan was all your mind could muster up before you let out a light puff, willing yourself to meet those eyes that seemed to be doing more work than anything else right now. “Please, Toru..You’re driving me insane..” Breathless and absolutely helpless—just how he liked you.
The verbal queue was all he needed. With one chuckled out, “Good boyyy.” Oh he was getting to work.
That tongue that had seemingly grown in measure was going alongside with his hands—smooth and soft, yet a little calloused—that took your aching shaft up into his palm. He fucking kissed up, from base to tip and then swiped his tongue back and forth under your sensitive frenulum before using those plump lips to give playful sucks to your weeping slit.
Swirling that aphrodisiac-saliva slick all over until you finally caved, pulling your forearms in front of your eyes and just barely stifling out your voice from behind them. The muscles in your thighs were just shivering, and he hadn’t even taken it all in yet.
God you were fucking hopeless.
Satoru’s hands rubbed soothingly along your inners as he showered your cockhead with sooo much care. It was so much yet still not enough. “Mhn..f-fuck, deeper..please..” Even as you begged for more, your body was following its own rhythm, hips bucking up into the inviting heat of his mouth. “Come on..you’re a..haah, demon, right..? This is your job..right?”
“Then give me more.” You were taken aback by the urgency you held in your voice and he clearly was too—seeing as his tongue stopped its endless movement that had remained focused solely on the tip of your member. And in one, sharp-toothed grin, he was following your words to the letter.
Oh and God could you tell he had the experience of a lifetime. From head to base, he took it alll down. He even did the courtesy of holding his mouth there, swallowing around every delicious inch like it was the sweetest candy he’d ever. Fucking. Tasted.
The sensation was enough to make your head finally fall back into the plush pillow set that decorated the top of your bed, shuddering out a throaty groan and ultimately a sigh of relief. His tongue got back to work, even though he wasn’t moving his head, you could feel the methodical patterns he made along the underside, around—even going as far as to trace the veins that pulsed with each flick.
But when he started to move? Your eyes fluttered back like you were experiencing the first effects of anesthesia. Even with his sharpened set, you didn’t feel one bit of teeth.
The worst fucking part was those damn eyes.
You were avoiding his like a plague but you could feel them burning holes through you as your fingers raked through your hair. Yeah, you’d gotten sucked off before but goddamn, he was sucking the soul out of you. 
Finally, your lids managed to peel open when your legs began to tense up, mindlessly rutting your pelvis up and down, just so desperate for that high you could feel coiling in your stomach. He noticed all the squirming, could taste the bittersweet of pre that dripped into his tongue each time he pulled his head back up—you both knew you were close.
A series of careening moans later and he pulled his lips off of you with a wet pop, putting in the effort to spit directly on the tip, rubbing his thumb over that weeping slit until you were sure you’d cramp up. His hand already picked up where his mouth left off and he was just heaving those barely useful, hot, shuddering, laughing breaths onto the connection of your shaft and head.
“You taste like fuckin’ heaven, pretty boy,” He said with a bit of a cockdrunk smile on his face. Those charcoal wings gave their own fluttering of excitement—now that you were slightly able to focus on something else other than his oral cavity. “I could suck this cock for hours and I’d keep going even when my jaw locks.”
And he wanted to talk about your mouth being nasty?
He brought his other hand to help with the job, left moving in short, up and down motions whilst the other was simply bullying the entrance of your urethra. Your hands, on the other hand, were simply just trying to find purchase on anything you could get them on.
The sheets, the pillow, your own tousled locks—whatever to help you cope with the burning need in your gut. “Oh f-fuck, oh God..‘Toru, Toru..!” You tumbled out in a hurried fashion as both your hands tried to close either ends of the pillow over your face to possibly shield you from the embarrassment..from those damn eyes. “Close.. ‘m close..s-so fuckin’..fuuuck..”
Vocabulary falling short, you heard the deep chuckle that he made, followed up by such a soft coo—all the while he was making you feel euphoric. It couldn’t have felt this good in its own..right? Sure, being a virgin was one thing but you’d gotten handys and blowjobs plenty of times before. It had to be that damn mark..right?
“Look at you..aww, you poor, poor thing,” The lilt in his voice made a whine of annoyance and frustration die out in the pillow that now barely masked your features. “You feelin’ it? My hands, my mouth, my breath..oh it’s just too much isn’t it? If you can’t handle this..”
He trailed off like he finished the sentence once in his head before finally verbalizing it, “Just how are you going to manage with my cock fucking you stupid? Huuh?” 
Automatically, you felt another surge when his words reached your brain—not your ears but after they registered—and you were damn near trembling with the effort to hold back and keep up the tedious conversation. Or, it seemed rather tedious..to you. 
“Can you imagine it already, huh? How it’s gonna feel when I finally sink in, the draaaag..Your eyes going cross when I bottom out, when you can feel me all the way up to your stomach—” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before you were sent tumbling over the edge in a fit of muffled profanity and swears.
Once again, that raspy chuckle of his echoed against your walls, only quieted down when his lips wrapped around the twitching and now pulsating head of your cock that emptied out straight into his waiting maw.
He closed his eyes, you heard—and felt—his low hums of appreciation as he drank it all down like he was on the brink of dehydration. As he did, the symbol along your pelvic bone started illuminating the small space it took up. It was almost hypnotizing..
After what seemed like absolutely forever, you fell back into the pillows with strained sounds of your come down, looking down to find Satoru’s glaciers staring right back up at you through those snowy lashes. You’d expected a witty remark but he simply pulled his lips off, holding your softening shaft in one hand as he opened his mouth up.
There, you saw the aftermath of your own premature climax. Immediately, your face lit up with a deep crimson. “Jeez, I thought you swallowed already..!”
He shook his head, smiling cheekily.
“Are you waiting on my say-so..?” 
A bout of silence..then another nod.
You pulled a face, glancing off to the side and only coming back when he gave a few more teasing strokes that made you yelp in frustration. “F-fine..! Swallow, spit, I don’t care..I just..”
“I just want to stop the burning in my stomach..it feels like…I’ll die without it—without you..” You breathed. “So quit fucking around and do me right.”
That did it for him, seeing as he swallowed with haste and stuck his tongue out to reveal the—relatively—empty contents. What he did next was more bold.
Slowly, surely, he raised his head up, peering in over you. Even after all this and such a lack of clothing, the scent of his cologne still drenched your senses and managed to make your vision just a bit hazier in the proximity. All of that amplified ten-fold when he sealed your mouths together.
Sloppy, and riddled with the taste of your own cum, he was taking your breath away with each slick slide of your tongues along one another. A heady mixture of that delicious aphrodisiac and something uniquely his.
This entire time he’d been so patient. Dragging it on for what seemed like absolute ages. So when you felt his hand sneaking down—past your navel, not at all skipping your sensitivity—and finally down to your patient, waiting, hole. 
Just the graze was enough but when two—not one—of his lengthy digits slid in, and his breath began to fan across your face with each break of this kiss..it was showtime.
“Fun fact, pretty boy..” He’d say, curling his fingertips into a spot you couldn’t even reach properly before you met him. “This, this little symbol right here..?”
As your legs were starting to clamp up, he used his free hand to trace over the tattoo embedded into your pelvic bone. “Makes things sooo much easier for me—for us..” Trailing off, he had gotten just mildly carried away as he hit that sweet nerve inside that elicited such a tantalizing sound to drip from your lips. “It gets you all nice and ready for me and I don’t even have to do anything too bad, t’ya..”
“Ain’t that exciting?” Chiming, he got his answer via the resurgence of your erection against your stomach. 
This was his element and clearly he was thriving.
The sound of his digits knuckle deep inside—stirring up the fire that was raging in yourty core—bounced off the walls like a symphony. 
Your voice was only getting sweeter and sweeter, falling on his ears in a way that made his previous, mindless, grinding down into the sheets seem like it would never be enough. 
It wasn’t enough. 
Not with your tight heat already pulsing and gripping his fingers like a vice, giving him a perfect demonstration of what he could be buried in right now.
“C’monn, I’ll talk you through it if it hurts too bad but..fuck…I can’t hold off anymore,” He slid his fingers out of you, but not without a shiver running up your spine. 
Drifting downward, he undid—what he would call—his restraints and slid off everything from the waist down. Once he kicked it off to the edge of the bed and over, Satoru sat up on his knees and began fisting the base of his thick shaft.
“You’ve been leading me on all night..a man can only take so much you know..” It was almost a whining complaint that he twisted into a slight reprimand. “Let’s take this all the way. Let me get you there. You know I’ll fuck you so right in all the wrong ways.”
Panting now, he looked down at how your body was screaming with Fahrenheit and anticipation as much a him. The puddle of slick pouring out into the slight indents of your abdomen from your sobbing cockhead—that, amongst others let him know just how he was getting to you. 
Just a bit of finger fucking and you were already like this..? He couldn’t even begin to fathom how you’d be when all 7.4 sunk in.
A whine trailed out when, the slight of fullness had been removed from your pulsing walls. “‘Toru..” You frustratedly simpered out, covering up your eyes with your forearm. “Quit f-fucking playing..”
“Playing? I’m just waiting for you to drop the attitude and ask me how you know you’re s’posed to.” He snipped back. “You’re the one squirming around and enjoying yourself getting off on my hand but you’re still so confident.”
You bit back a groan at his bratty response and shivered out a sigh. “I’m..sorry.”
“For..?”
“For giving you lip about how you’re not inside me right now.”
He shrugged his shoulders and slid his dripping tip along the crevice of your as—teasing you with his hips each time it caught on the rim. “I think you can do better than that..” Each pass spreading the slick that was artificially—or ‘magically’—pouring out of you and the fat drops of pre that were coming from Satoru.
Leaning your head back, down into the pillow, you began to speak, “Haah..for being..defiant—”
“Look me in the eyes when you’re asking me for something. That’s common courtesy.” With a slight bite, he pressed the tip past just a bit and it was enough to make you trip up in your sentence.
Your arm fell from over your eyes and to the side of your head as you stared up at him with all due reluctance. It was mildly hard to tell with how your features were already being contorted by the promise of more. “I’m sorry for being..mhn..defiant. I’ll listen, I’ll be..good for you. So please give me what I want..” 
“Atta boy.” He purred, taking that as a sign to ‘spontaneously forgive you’. In reality—he just hadn’t expected you to beg so fucking nicely with just a bit of teasing. Next thing you knew, he was bottoming out inside you.
The pathetic sound that your mouth produced was one you didn’t know you could make before. A gradual and steady ease into it would’ve been better but oh he did the exact opposite of any of that. He had let out his own slightly pained groan at the sheer grip that you had on every inch you’d taken so gracefully. Eyes falling directly down onto you, he gave a half-smile that was somewhat meant to convince himself, just as much as you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. 
“Holy shit..fuck you feel…fuck..” Vocabulary failing for what felt like the first time during the entire encounter, you heard the light fluttering of his wings up on his shoulders–most likely compensating for the way his hips had jutted to a stop after the initial breach of both your senses. 
The cherry on top had to be the fact that he had pressed down riiight onto that little symbol of yours. Exactly where you could feel his cockhead nestled so snugly inside. It didn’t help that the veins were pulsing as they struggled to all find purchase within your sopping wet hole. He pushed your legs back by your knees–not into a full-on mating press yet but just enough so he could start rocking and setting up a steadfast rhythm inside. 
You thought it’d be easier to–well, who are we kidding? It was already hard enough for you to deal with him just being inside but now with that drag that was building up the friction your body felt like it’d been waiting ages for; you were already rendered a stuttering, tensed up mess. 
Rampant fingers scrambling for him and finally pulling him down on top of you by the base of his horns, you earned a groan that faded off into a dry laugh. “Aw, already can’t seem to get me close enough? I’m already all the way up in your stomach, you know..”
“I..mnh..I know, I know..f-fuck, ‘s just..a lot.” You pieced together, even with the currents that were creating seas of pleasure through your veins. It was like each time he pulled out and dropped all the way back down into you, his throbbing cock found new spots to bully and pinpoint. “.. ‘Yer fillin’ me up so much I c-can barely think straight, ‘Toru..”
That hanging coo of his name made his heart–and well, dick–throb as he furrowed his eyebrows in slight concentration. He was building up a sweat, easy to tell from the droplets that slid down his brow ridge and past his face to fall onto you. 
“Are you sure you’re a virgin..? Or do you just naturally say shit that makes me want to give up on trying to fuck you slow?” He grunted, each time with a deep grind against your deepest parts.
At one point, he went into what felt like full downward dog and that alone was enough to prove his question to be redundant. Poor you, you didn’t even know what that bit of hip curvature could do before you were shuddering out a premature orgasm that startled the both of you when it hit. You were slightly mortified at the fact you’d cum from just a few well-placed strokes but to Satoru, you couldn’t have stroked his ego any better. That little emblem glowed it’s white shimmer until your climax subsided, Satoru never really stopping his motions until you were completely sated and now thoroughly heightened in your nerves. “Fuck, ah, s-shit, I’m sorry I didn’t think I’d–”
“Why’re you apologizing for that?” He laughed out. “It’s only your first of tonight, anyway. Might as well get used to it..” Giving another scan over your body, he could see and feel just how much each little detail was contributing to the state you were in now. “Hey, can you..get on all fours for me..?” “Why..?”
“I want to see if you can get a few back to backs while I’m hitting it from the back.” So chipper about it, you couldn’t help the slight twist of annoyance that came with it. To him it was worth it though, just to see your face get all pouty about the matter. 
Slowly withdrawing, he eased you off of your back with a flawless handling of your waist and legs, making sure not to give you too much ragdoll treatment–yet. Your face naturally landed into the pillow with a muffled ‘hmph’ and just seconds later, you felt his thumbs spreading your hole out. He was admiring the view and your face grew hotter with each passing instant that you could feel his eyes lingering there. 
“Do you mind–”
“Hush up, f’me. Let me enjoy this fully–it’s not every day that I get to fuck virgins so I’m trying to make you last.”
You let out a lengthy groan into the fabric before speaking again, “Why can’t you just fuck my brains out already..that is your job. Not to tease me until I can’t take it anymore..” “Oh, trust me, sweetie,” All matter-of-factly, he leaned down to nip and bite at the exposed skin of your shoulder, moving to lick a stripe from your tailbone, all the way up until he placed another loving set of teeth marks at the nape of your neck. “If that was enough to make you finish quick as you did–you wouldn’t be able to handle all that. I’m doing this for your sake, so try and sound a bit more grateful.”
Whatever bratty remark you had to give afterward was silenced by the sound and feeling of a fat wad of his saliva coming into contact with your puckered entrance. A mild shiver and you could’ve sworn that the tips of your ears were redder than ever. It also didn’t help the fact that he began that languid stroking of his angry cockhead all along the crevice that he’d spread out so gracefully and politely.
Throaty grunts–some fading into soft, almost tender moans–fell on your ears in an increasing succession. It was enough to drive anyone far up the wall. Especially when he’d already given you such a clear-cut example and beautiful snippet of what was to come.
Almost on their own, your hips began to bounce back on him in the slight of chasing more of the friction that was your only–inadequate–sense of relief. “Aww, ‘s the matter, pretty boy?” Once again, that patronizing coo of his pet name stole a whimpered complaint from your mouth. It felt mostly on deaf ears with your face being so submerged into the plush. “Doesn’t this feel soo nice? Hm? Remember what we talked about..”
“I-it does..it feels..hah, amazing…” You’d meekly reply.
He cocked his head to the side, angling an eyebrow at you before planting an arm squarely beside your face, then using his free hand to guide your eyes up to his. “Buttt..”
“I told you..” It was then that Satoru got to see the true effect of all his ruthless teasing–you were already tearing up. His snow blues widened at the sight of the mild wetness that had begun to spring from your eyes and stain your cheeks. “..‘S not enough..I’m burning inside and you’re being fucking..mean.” 
Oh, but how could he not? 
The entire night, you’d been casting glances, slipping words under your breath and essentially leading him all the way on. It was–one of–the more irritating ‘jobs’ that he’d ever gotten but after having a taste of you..? Seeing how those pouty expressions became twisted and eventually fell away once you really started to feel it..how could he resist..? 
“Ah, I see now..” he drawled, lining himself up once again. Luminous depths all muddled with lust and something just simply carnal lurking behind them, his breath hitched and so did yours when he slipped the tip in. As much as you wanted to recoil, he held your face there, clawed nails softly digging into your cheeks. Mouth hung open above yours, his lips just ghosted with the heat of his every exhale. “I’m sorry, baby..you must be in agony, huh..? You’ve already had such a bad night..”
Inch by inch, he watched with hawk-eyes the gradual descension of your facial expression–so needy, so fucking pathetic–alll because of him. 
Oh, that was just the half of it. 
From this angle, this position..fuck was he reaching deep. Deeper than before it felt–and even then, he didn’t stop until he was fit so snugly inside. “S-shit..might get fuckin’ addicted to this,” he huffed once again, then pressing his sweat-riddled chest against your fluttering spine. “Let me help you forget about all your problems..you deserve it. Just lie there, look good, and take everything I have to offer..” 
With that low mutter, he sealed your lips together and kicked up his rhythm–obscene and just downright filthy sounds coming from the connection between the two of you. Instead of the grind he’d grown and nurtured beforehand, his hips were slamming into you, making that harsh slap each time that his pelvis pressed up against the fat of your ass. It was enough to have your legs trembling just a few minutes in.
Over and over and over, just fucking pounding you in. Your moans and gasps for air were all swallowed up into his slick maw as he dominated the kiss with ease. His tongue was mapping out each crevice of your mouth. As much as you thought he tasted sweet enough to make your dentist fly into a fury–he thought you tasted fucking divine.
“God-damn, holy–keep it arched like this..just like..ahh…” He began to roll his head back but just as he did, your hand came up, tugging him back down over you by one of his horns. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. A brief widening of his eyes and he was now hooking his big hands into the junctures of either of your hips, pulling you back with a harsh tug that made the precision of his thrusts seem all the more brutal. 
One hand firmly clasped on the protrusion of his head, ever-adjusting, another scrunching up your poor pillow as yet another round of tremors rang out through your spine. Your lips were fallen open in such a blissed out way that all manners of sounds were coming from there. Ranging from, “Right there..! R-right fuckin’ ohhh..!” to strings of, “S-slow– mhn..! Can’t take..haah..” It was so endearing how you couldn’t even properly place what exactly it was that you really wanted.
Slithering a hand from its holster, he wrapped around, once again laying his chest on top of you but this time sinking his weight down into you in a way that made your body tense and you could’ve sworn you heard the zip! Signaling a short circuit in your brain when your prostate was dug into sooo fucking deliciously. 
What definitely wasn’t helping were the fingers that had found your sorely forgotten shaft–left to leak endless strings of pre down onto your sheets as you were dicked down into them. Methodically twisting his wrist on the upstroke, he eventually noticed how your ass was rutting back against him, encouraging him to continue his relentless pursuit. “I can’t..hngh..make you out…” heavily panting, he began to leave the back of your neck and shoulders branded with the map of his sharp canines and incisors. 
Another one of those hearty chuckles, just a little less throaty and more breathless than anything and he was kissing up along your shoulders. “You’re really something, y’know.”
“..‘Toru...”
“Yess, handsome?” That purr was enough to make you flush, maybe even a bit more than how he was literally jerking you off while keeping at a standstill inside.
Pulling your face up and out of the small huddle you’d made amongst your arms, you gave him that glossy-eyed look. Oh you felt him throb. “I’m..getting close again…”
“Oh yeah? Aaand..you’re getting close to..what, exactly?” Even now, he wasn’t letting up on his teasing, sliding his fist up to create a lewd squelching sound along your weeping tip. A careening moan stopped what you were going to say next but it was so cute to hear you struggle to form the most basic of sentences. 
“..Fuck.. ‘m gonna cum..”
“Already?” 
His response made your cheeks stain with crimson once more as you then coyly nodded along. “I want you to..cum with me…You didn’t before.” 
God. 
Maybe he was just turned on or maybe it was his heart melting, but that ignited something inside of Satoru that he couldn’t explain. All that you knew was that he was practically smothering you now, big, strong arms gathered around your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck–fucking ramming his cock deeper and deeper with all due haste.
Your fingers came up to scratch at his biceps, clawing at the skin there as your voice grew louder and louder, more and more strained and finally being dulled out by the pillow whilst you were sent barreling over the edge. Incoherencies flowing from your mouth like a fountain–akin to how your dick was pumping out rope after rope of burning release onto the sheets. It didn’t help that even when your body grew rigid and you were shuddering through your climax–he kept going.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..” Chanting over and over, each weighted slap of his balls up against your sore taint was plowing you through your already-powerful orgasm and straight into overstimulation. He would’ve been more gentle, would’ve stopped and maybe rubbed the rest out after you came but the way your hole was fucking clinging to him–as if begging him to stay–he knew that was a lost cause.
His breathing faltered, got caught in his throat a few times before he was whining in your ear. It was hard to make sense of, given your deliriousness and the fog that was beginning to mar your psyche but something along the lines of, “My name, f-fucking say my name..” he pleaded. “Wanna let this..whole fuckin’ neighborhood know who’s the first..who’s the best fuck you’ll ever have.”
In a blind state of compliance, you tried your hardest to follow his command.
“Satoru–”
“Fucking wrong.” He bit.
Trying again, you rolled your neck off to the side, resting your cheek down into his forearm as you helplessly mewled underneath him. So close already, his cock was pulsing inside of you with each rapidfire, short stroke he made. “Jesus fuckin’--ahh..! ‘Toru, ‘Toru..oh my fuck, ‘Toru..!” With how syrupy sweet his name sounded on your lips, it was no surprise at all when you felt the first spurts of cum begin to paint your insides when you said it.
‘Toru, Toru, Toru’ over and over--he rode out every last second of his climax with deep, guttural groans of your name, essentially returning the favor a bit. By this point, your mind was already swamped with pleasure that had long since had your eyes simply rolling. That burn had begun to dim down and it seemed as though he was spent as well–for the most part.
Basking in that pretty afterglow, he finally let some of his weight stop pinning you down to the mattress and opted for leisurely laying on top of you. “Hey, not too bad at all for a first timer.” like a switch was flipped, he was right back to his casual, smug demeanor. Still out of breath but steadily regaining his senses, he brushed back a few strands from your face before letting his softening shaft slip out. Teasing the tip a bit before the pop! rang out, almost immediately his load started to drip down your thighs.
Only then did you let your hips sink back down with an unceremonious fall.
He glanced over the sight with rapt attention–he couldn’t help but glide his fingers through the mess he’d made of you. You felt a small shiver run up your spine when he did, lifting your head up and off of the pillow just enough to look back at him through your tousled locks. “Seriously, Satoru?”
“Aww, what? I liked it when I was ‘Toru’.” He’d whined with a feigned look of dejection.
Rolling your eyes, you turned over on your back and to your surprise–the mark was gone. “Hey, where did–”
“It’s temporary,” Cutting you off just a bit, he smiled. “I came inside, I helped you out, anddd..my job is done.”
Slowly but surely, you watched all of his otherworldly features begin to retreat–his horns disappearing back into his hair, wings folding up and sliding back into place inside his shoulder blades. It looked..painful, but he hadn’t really flinched.
“Does that not..hurt at all..?” You inquired, gesturing toward the clear expanse of skin where his horns had been before.
All he did was shrug it off, bringing a hand up to his neck as he scratched the back of it lightly. “Huh..? Ah, I guess not. It’s sort of like..when humans naturally lose teeth. Orrr, growing and cutting off nails.”
“Kinda gross.” 
“You didn’t seem to find any part of me gross a few moments ago,” Swinging his long legs off to the side of the bed, he leaned down to tug his pants back on, keeping his belt messily undone. In another moment, he stalked over to your bathroom and you sat up a bit straighter, pulling your legs into yourself a bit. Your face fell as you thought it was simply over just like that. Well, until he came back with a towel from the cabinet. “Humans are so odd. Keeping towels in such places–they go on racks.” he’d grumbled as he made his way over to you.
Stepping back into frame, he saw the way your face was just a few seconds away from tearing up. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re hurt somewhere..” his features fell somber as he cupped your face, tilting it upward to look back at him. 
“N-no it’s..nothing.”
He gave a harsh scoff and once again pulled that smug smirk. “Uhuh. ‘Nothing’ my sweet ass. Talk to me, pretty boy.”
“I just thought..you’d stay a while longer.” Your eyes sideswiped away from his and all Satoru could do was smile even harder, dragging your face to his lips. Peppering kisses wherever his mouth could reach, you soon felt your face growing hotter. “Fuck–quit it..! What’s up with you-?”
Once again, another burst of laughter and he tugged away, unfurling the towel and wiping down all of your sullied limbs and taking extra time to tend to where he’d been paying the most attention beforehand. Knelt in front of you, cleaning off your inner thighs, he was humming lowly to himself. Your fingers carded through his white head of hair enough for him to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is this the part where you say ‘I love you’ and you ask me to stay the night?”
“You ruined the moment, so..I’ll skip over the first part and just say thanks for helping me not be an adult virgin anymore.” You remarked with a small flick of his forehead.
Shrugging, he chimed back, “So I can still stay over?”
“Of course–my couch is always open for freeloaders.” 
That was enough for him to know where he stood and get back to cleaning up his mess.
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A/N: Kind of my debut into this scene..! You lot showed so much love to the mlist alone! I hope I characterized my precious ‘Toru’ well, I took inspiration. More on the way—enjoy the first commandment. 🧧
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.
Content: Violence, Previous Injury (mentioned), Panic Attack (non-descriptive)
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Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.
Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.
Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.
Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.
He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.
Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…
It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.
That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).
So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.
But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.
Johnny’s solution?
“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”
Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.
Mission: accomplished.
Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.
“Luv?”
You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.
“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.
“A word?”
You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.
Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.
Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.
“Sweetheart?”
You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.
“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”
Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.
There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.
And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.
When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.
Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.
“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”
It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.
“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”
There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.
“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”
You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.
“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”
The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—
“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”
You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.
“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”
“But…”
“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”
“Y-you’re not?” you warble.
“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”
“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.
He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”
He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.
“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”
You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.
“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”
It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.
“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”
He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.
“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”
You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.
“Kyle.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Look into that knob from the lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”
“You’ve got it.”
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dropsnectar · 5 months ago
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Witches Brew 
Slime monster x afab!witch
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Happy October! Here's some spooky smut for the spooky season!
It was October and Halloween was just around the corner! So! Of course you were bubbling up some witches brew for one of your most busy seasons of the year. 
You stood in your studio apartment, walls covered in wooden shelves. Atop of those shelves were bottles full of your favorite things: dry herbs, powder mixes, and other potion and spellcasting tools you would need for your work. In the middle of the room stood a big cast iron cauldron. You had arranged some cement blocks to hold an electric fire starter underneath it, as you didn't have a fireplace. It was hard being a witch in the city, but you made do. This was where all the clientele was, after all.
You were standing over the boiling cauldron, an old grimiore in one hand, and mixing the golden liquid with another. The grimoire was your great grandmother something you had recently inherited. You were practically shaking with excitement! Your great grandmother had been an excellent witch, known far and wide for her potions. You had flipped through her book and found it, a recipe for her “Extremely Special Witches Brew”, the first two words being underlined. Witches brew was the basis of so much potion work. If it was extremely special then that must mean it was incredibly potent!
You had been brewing for about six hours now. The recipe started out incredibly normal, but had specified that you stare it down for the next hour, adding a lock of your own hair and some mermaid scales. This had been the most difficult bit, as mermaid scales had a habit of boiling over the pot unless babied with compliments and sweet words. Unusual for witches brew, but you trusted your grandmother. 
You had finally finished your hour of staring, marveling and cooing, turning off the fire starter. The next step was to let it cool. When it was finished, the grimoire specified, the mixture would condense and turn a lovely green color. 
You waited another hour and checked on the brew. Strange. There had been no change in consistency, and the color remained as gold as the sun on a winter's day. You waited another hour. Nothing.
You cursed. Were had you gone wrong? This recipe had been incredibly expensive, and you'd made ALOT of it, expecting to use it for the rest of the year. Upset, you went to bed early, muttering yourself to sleep.
It was around midnight when something started to stir in the cauldron. Any waking ear would have heard the sputtering and gurgling as the magic started to awaken.  Slowly, a small green tendril dripped its way onto the floor, continuously flowing until the full glob, the size of a small person made its way to the floor. Slowly, it rolled across the carpet and stopped at the bed. It watched you sleep for a moment before pulling itself up into the foot of the bed, under your covers.
You woke up feeling something crawl up your thighs. When you opened your eyes you glanced up, not seeing anything. But their was a pressure on you, something cool and wet, like a weighted blanket was curling itself up towards your core.
You tore your blanket off of you and saw it, a dark building sludge, glowing beautifully under the moonlight streaming from your window. 
You were so shocked, you didn't react. That was, until it had decided to pull itself under your panties and push itself between your lips. You gasped out as it completely covered you, gliding back and forth against your entrance and up towards your clit. It was pushing and closing all around you, the wetness feeling so good against your skin. 
Despite the fact that your stomach was in knots you tried to push the glob off of you. Your hands made contact, but pushed right through, into the creature. You tried to pull your arms out, but the thing tightened around them. You tried to leverage your weight, pulling back as hard as you could, but only managed to pull the thing with you as you rocked back.
The thing was heavy, pushing down your tummy and making its way up your chest. It did not stop sliding up and down your vulva, your breath hitching as it seemed to catch at your entrance. There was an experimental push there and you squirmed, your heart in your throat. 
Suddenly, the area felt even more slippery then it did before. The creature started to glow, a soft grass green, as all across your skin, the thing seemed to seep some sort of liquid. You could feel it drip down the crevices of your groin, down the slopes of your chest as you noticed the thing start to disintegrate your nightgown.
You wriggled as much as you could, trying to push back arousal as you shimmied to the edge of the bed. But the creature had a grip on you and the more you moved the faster it started to glide and explore the planes of your now exposed skin. It was fully enveloping you.
You gasped as it pushed into your entrance, a slippery tendril slowly making its way up and around your walls, leaving behind a sticky liquid as it moved. Your body was slowly starting to tingle. Your breathe was becoming even more ragged and the cool and slick textured of the sludge started to feel even more pleasant then it had before. 
Your mind was getting fuzzy. The feeling of the thing on your skin, paired with the weight, while previously scary, was really stoking the fire in your core. Hadn't you been so desperate lately for a feeling like this? To feel the weight of a lover as you mewled out from under them?
Your vision started to get fuzzy too. Fuzzy. You felt fuzzy all over. The need in you continued to grow as all you could concentrate on was the sudden movements on every part of your body. Hot. You felt hot..
Your waist, the curves of your breast, your inner thighs, your nipples, they were being caressed, grabbed, groped. All of this continued as a sharp sucking started to occur on your clit. You cried out, not caring if the neighbors could hear you as it sucked wave after wave of pleasure from your skin. 
More tendrils had made their way into your hot wet cunt. The girth of it made you buck your hips, straining beautifully under the the green glowing creature. You liked how it pushed you back down, experimenting with where to shift its weight as you keened out.
Green.
The witches brew. The Extremely Special witches brew.
Fuck.
You weren't able to think further as a large girthy tendril suddenly shot itself into you, thrusting into you with force. There was a needle like sucking of your nipples as the thing glided circles over every surface of your body. It was so much sensation you could barely think. The thrusting quickening its pace, pushing harder and faster into you until you broke, your orgasm rocking through you like an earthquake. 
But it didn't stop thrusting. And you didn't stop wanting it to fuck you, jerking your wobbly pelvis into the tendrils with futility. You giggled as the slime started to massage more fluid onto your vulva and cunt. Cum and aphrodisiac trickled out of you as the thing bullied that spongy spot that made you see stars. 
You had started to drool, which attracted the attention of the glob near your chest. A slimy tendril made its way to the drool streaming down your neck and chest, sucking. It seemed to be devouring the liquid as it made its way into your mouth, sucking your skin and tongue. You moaned around it, an herby taste oozing. You recognized some of the notes as ingredients in your brew.
 A silent chuckle vibrated through your chest. Mermaid scales. Worth every buck.
You came again. And again. And again. The slime fucked you over so much that you couldn't quite understand where it started and you began. You were so needy and so desperate for the next orgasm that you didn't notice the sunlight streaming down onto your conjoined bodies.
Some tendrils had made its way to your face, pushing back hair and sucking lazily on the sweat streaming down your forehead. Then, the coil within you snapped one more time, washing over you like a gentle wave on the beach. And the thrusting stopped. The sucking stopped.
The tendrils within you started to recede and form back into the main glob of the creature. It started to absorb all the slick of your body, leaving a lone bouncy weight on your skin. 
The two of you laid like that for a while as you caught your final breath, barely able to stay conscious. The thing started to prod circles into your sore aching muscles. You heard a keening sound. That surprised you a little. But that keen had been filled with so much affection, your heart couldn't help but be affected. 
As you lost consciousness, one thought stayed in your mind.
Best fucking spell ever. 
873 notes · View notes
oddinary4bts · 7 months ago
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Chasing Cars | ch 13 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: college anxiety, angst, Gabrielle, Lisa, alcohol, cursing, mentions of cheating, a frat party, explicit content: implied sex
☆word count: 8.9k
☆a/n: more angst oop- I hope you guys like it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, August 30
Summer came and went. Like everything in life, it became just a moment in time, a short movie consisting of flashing scenes of friendship and fun and sun, of pools and tanning and hikes. Summer was perfect, summer was healing, yet summer couldn’t heal everything.
Summer hasn’t healed a doe-eyed boy from your heart, but you think it’s okay. You think, perhaps your love for Jungkook is just everlasting, another one of those memories you know you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.
You reckon, if you were to have kids one day and they’d asked you who your first love was, you wouldn’t be able to answer their father.
It will always be Jungkook, no matter the bitterness and the pain of the ending.
It’s his necklace you wear on your heart every day after all.
You’ve worked all summer, amassing money to cover your expenses for the year. You’ve gone back home with Taehyung for a week your mother had off, and you spent it camping like you did when you were kids, gaze getting lost in starlight and sun rays on the water, reflections of light that left afterimages on your retina.
Much like Jungkook is an afterimage on your heart. Never fully erased, yet the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. Like the time soothed its edges, reminding you of the good part, allowing you to let go of the bad.
The first news you had of Jungkook this summer was stories posted on a Saturday evening, of him and Lisa and friends in New York City. Turns out Lisa landed an internship at an architect firm in New York through her father’s connections, and turns out it was all she needed to be welcomed into Jeon Jungkook’s world over there.
You’d been jealous back then, bitterly so. Yoongi, bless his heart, had forced you to hang out at his place, claiming the empty room needed to be repainted before Namjoon moved in for the semester. It’d been a good distraction, and by the end of the weekend, you’d realized that Jungkook was allowed to have friends, to move on from your idyllic moment in his life.
It hurt, but it was a sign of healing.
You got closer to Yoongi over the summer. Learned all about his past, about his high school and how his parents were supportive when he came out, yet reluctant when he brought his first boy home. He’d told you how he met Hoseok in his last year of high school despite not attending the same school, and how their friendship had immediately blossomed.
Only to wither in April, when Hoseok had chosen to leave. None of you or your friends have had any news of him since then, like he wiped his existence from all of your lives like it was nothing. It’s been hard for Yoongi, harshly so, so you’ve made sure to always be available for him, too.
Namjoon and Nabi’s relationship didn’t suffer such a fate. They’ve only been growing stronger over the summer, proof that despite Namjoon getting out of his relationship with his ex and jumping in the one with Nabi right away, they were meant for each other. In truth, you’ve never seen anyone love each other like Namjoon and Nabi do, and maybe that most of all has healed your bleeding heart.
There has to be someone out there who’ll love you like you’re the one who paints his every sunset. 
Seokjin wasn’t on the receiving end of such a relationship. He’d confessed to Ria halfway through the summer, telling her that he couldn’t do the see-saw anymore, that he needed everything or nothing, and in good Ria fashion, your friend ran. She ran and ran, until Seokjin told her he was ashamed of having believed she deserved to be loved.
The blow has been hard on Ria, and she hasn’t been with anyone since then. Hasn’t mentioned Seokjin once either, but you know that, whenever you go out, he’s the one she’s looking for. 
The strangest part of this summer happened on a random Tuesday evening when you’d just come home from work. Taehyung and Ariane, ever so the lovebirds, had been hanging out in the living room when you’d crossed the threshold. Taehyung’s gaze had shot to you, and he’d uttered words you think have been carved into your brain.
“Did you know Jungkook is the heir of JJS pharmaceuticals?” 
You did. You knew about his father’s company - he’d told you once when you’d been lying with your head on his chest, one of the rare times he’d talked about his family after your weekend escapade to New York.
But you knew Jungkook’s existence had been mostly a secret, his father refusing to announce his existence to the world because Jungkook had refused to study at an Ivy League College.
At the confusion on your face - or rather, the masked pain you’d been hiding for weeks and months - Taehyung had added, “There was a conference press, and he’s all over social media.”
He was. You found out quickly enough, articles and articles about him showing up on your Instagram as well. You’d seen pictures from the press conference: though his father had been smiling wide, Jungkook had only been staring at the camera, like he’d wished he could disappear.
You don’t know what led him to accept a position at his father’s company before he’d even graduated, but you knew then and know now that it had to not have been his choice.
So indeed, summer came and went until it became just a memory, and the new semester now looms over the horizon, a reminder that though your skin might have been sunkissed these last few months, it’s now time to return to reality.
You’re sitting in the kitchen, indulging in Buldak noodles as you read a book about Faes and High Lords and a Night Court. You’ve started reading again over the summer, another way to escape that helped fill your breaks at work when you didn’t go out for lunch with your coworkers. It was nice to reconnect with your previous love for reading - indeed, you’d spent years in middle school and high school getting lost in fantasy and dystopian worlds, and recovering this part of you might have been another way to heal.
It’s reminded you that every story is worth telling, even those that don’t end well.
So you sit at the kitchen table, halfway done with your noodles, when the front door opens and closes. 
“Hello!” you greet out of reflex.
Taehyung and Ariane were out shopping for groceries, and though they haven’t left a long time ago, you assume it’s them coming home.
“Do you need any help?” you ask as no one replies, which is strange.
They’re always talking about everything and nothing, joking around like they’re the only people in the world. It’s something you do find cute, but that always grates your nerves in all the wrong ways.
Where Nabi and Namjoon have been making you feel hopeful when it comes to love, Taehyung and Ria have made you jaded too.
The silence prolongs, and you don’t even hear them taking off their shoes. You furrow your brows, wondering if they’re trying to prank you. So you put your book down even though you are in the middle of a good scene, and you push up from the table, heading towards the kitchen’s doorway.
You reckon, maybe you should have expected it. You’d known he was coming back at some point - he still has a year left of college. But you didn’t think he’d show up on an early Friday evening, clutching his duffel bag and standing by the door like he’s a guest in his own home.
He’s changed. The first thing you notice is that he’s changed: he doesn’t have the eyebrow piercing anymore, his hair is shorter - almost entirely shaved at the sides - and though he still has the lip piercings, he looks different than what you remember.
As if a few months was enough to blur your memories of Jeon Jungkook, and the wound you’d thought to be healed over the last few months reopens, pouring liquid lava on your entire body until you think you’re burning, and not in a good way.
He’s dressed in all black, like some things don’t change after all. He looks more built than he was last semester, like he’s gone to the gym a lot more over the summer. His tattoos have also changed - they’ve been coloured, some of them, as if he tried to put colours back into his life.
You hope it worked. But when you hold his gaze, the heaviness making you want to disappear through the floor, you think maybe it didn’t work at all.
“Y/n,” he greets.
His voice has changed too. Or maybe it’s just the emotions, maybe it’s just the fact that the last thing he ever told you were those words in the letter you keep hidden in your night table, words you’ve romanticized every night trying to fall asleep.
Not that you would tell anyone.
“Jungkook,” you reply in the same tone.
He nods once, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he takes off his shoes. You watch him, dumbly standing in the doorway, and he shoots you a look once his shoes - black boots that look far too warm for the summer - are off.
“How are you?”
His three words throw you off. They make you feel like last semester might have been a construct of your imagination, but then again you hold that letter too dearly, and the memories of him have been your favourites for months now.
“I’m okay,” you reply, nodding once. “How are you?”
He pulls on his piercings, the gesture familiar yet so different than how you’ve been imagining it every night. “I’m chill.”
He starts to walk towards his room, but he stops halfway there, glancing over your head into the kitchen. 
“Want something to eat?” you ask, and you wonder if he hears your heart as it picks up in your chest.
You see the moment he spies the Buldak noodles on the table. He smiles softly, with his eyes first, and you think maybe this is it.
Maybe he came back home.
Came back home to you.
But then his features fall, the smile vanishing and darkness invading his gaze. He shakes his head no, nodding towards his room. “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”
You watch him walk the rest of the way towards his bedroom. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he freezes there. His shoulders tense, and even though you don’t see his features, you know he wants to say something else.
You hope he will, hope he’ll say something that might mend the bridge between the two of you. That might erase this abyss between you and him until the ending disappears.
You know it’s because you haven’t seen him in a long time. Know that, when it all comes down to it, you wouldn’t go back to him - he broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to return to him. But you like to imagine that you would as he stands there, that you’d run to him if he turned and said the right words.
But he doesn’t. He sighs, and then he walks into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. And as he disappears from view, you feel yourself stumble, like you’ve taken a hit right to the chest. You lay a hand over your beating heart, almost expecting to feel blood trickling through your fingers.
As if he’s just broken your heart all over again, torn it from your ribcage. Yet it breaks - you didn’t think he still had that power over you.
Hell, you thought you’d been moving on.
You walk back into the kitchen, the room spinning around you. You drop in the chair you were sitting in before, eyeing your book. And though you want to get lost in the fantasy world again, you’re bleeding out on your chair, pain burning along every single one of your nerves.
How are you supposed to share a roof with the one that broke your heart?
The answer is easy. You can’t.
You need to get out of here, and quickly.
Monday, September 2nd 
Your first day back to college is long. You’ve got two classes - a morning and an afternoon class, both of them three hours long. 
When the second one ends - luckily half an hour early ‘because it’s the first day’ as the professor said - you make your way out of class with Nabi. She’s typing away on her phone, likely asking Namjoon when he’ll be home, yet she follows you as you head to the dorms.
You’ve been crashing at the girls’ dorm over the weekend, as you try to figure out what you should do. You haven’t figured anything yet - Taehyung’s been telling you that you shouldn’t move out, asking if it’s because of Ariane moving in, and though you’ve been good at avoiding mentioning Jungkook, there’s just so much you can do before you burst and admit that it’s because of him.
But it’s okay - Nabi’s been staying with Yoongi and Namjoon, so you have her bed all to yourself, and Ria and you have been treating it like a massive sleepover, doing face masks every night and getting mildly drunk on Saturday.
Nabi sighs as you walk towards the dorms, and you throw her a look. 
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel like this semester is about to be the worst,” she admits, slightly shaking her head. “Namjoon basically confirmed it.”
You hook your arm with hers, resting your head on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. We’re in this together.”
“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the top of our class.”
“And you’re the second,” you remind her. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”
She nods, heaving out a heavy breath again. “Is it bad that I’m already anxious?”
You don’t reply right away, as you pass through a group of engineer students gathered in front of a class, most likely getting ready for an evening class. An evening class on the first Monday… 
You feel bad for them.
“It’s not bad,” you reply once you’ve finally walked past. “It means that you care about your grades. You just need to not let it eat you alive.”
“I think I’m just realizing that getting into med school might be harder than we thought,” she says with a sigh.
You stop, tugging on her arm so that she stops too. “No, I’m not having any of that,” you tell her. “We’ll both get in, Nabi, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, folding her arms on her chest.
“Yup.” You nod forcefully. “Dead serious. And after that, it’s smooth sailing until residency. And then we get a residency together, and we become sexy doctors.”
“Bruh,” she lets out, and she chuckles.
You’re happy your distraction works because you truthfully didn’t know where you were headed with it. “I promise!” you insist. “Give us a couple of years, and we’ll have our own practice.”
“You want to be a surgeon, and I want to be an ophthalmologist,” she reminds you. “Not quite sure we’d practice at the same place.”
You shrug, and you start walking towards the dorms again. “To be fair, we’ll probably both end up at a hospital. We just need to find a way to work at the same one.”
She purses her lips. “That sounds doable.”
You smirk mischievously. “Damn right.”
*****
Nabi ends up staying with you and Ria at the dorm for a couple of hours after class, and you order takeout that you eat sitting in a circle on the floor like you usually do when you do pre-drinks before a party. It’s fun, more chill than a pre-party gathering, and Ria tells you all about how she ran into Seokjin on campus today.
“He didn’t even look at me,” she admits. “What a dick.”
You exchange a knowing look with Nabi. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” you try.
“He ignores me when we all hang out together too,” she points out. “He’s doing it on purpose.”
Nabi scrunches up her nose. “Yeah… you did lead him on for months.”
“Not my fault if he fell in love,” Ria grumbles, her gaze dropping to the rice bowl she’s eating.
“It might not be your fault, but you still led him on,” Nabi pushes.
Ria huffs a breath, scoffing, but she doesn't say anything. She never really does when it comes to Seokjin anyway.
“Why are you so against the idea of being with him again?” you ask.
The scalding look you earn would put a dragon to shame. “Because I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she says, sounding like you a year ago when your friends had been pestering you about Hoseok.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“We all know he’d treat you like a goddess though,” Nabi says. “The guy’s a hopeless romantic.”
Ria rolls her eyes. “Cringe.”
You playfully push her, and she bursts out laughing. You don’t miss the way her cheeks have dusted with pink though - and neither does Nabi - but you don’t mention it.
You have a feeling Ria is lying to herself more than she’s lying to the both of you, but you’d never dare tell her. She’ll figure it out on her own or not, and that’s what being in college is.
You try stuff; some of it works, and some doesn’t. 
Jungkook invades your thoughts, your chest aching all over again. You reach for the peach at the end of the chain, playing with the pendant mindlessly as if that can tame the ache, push it back to the back rooms of your mind.
It barely works, yet you manage to be able to let go of him after a few deep breaths, and a prolonged silence of Nabi staring at Ria while the latter is solely focused on eating. Your unease went unnoticed, which you reckon is a relief.
Confiding in them about Jungkook has helped over the summer, obviously, but there are some things you want to keep to yourself. Because Jungkook deserves the centrepiece in all of the secrets you’ve ever held - he was the grandest of them all last semester after all.
Still is, considering you’ve been lying to Taehyung about him all summer. Not that you really had to lie. You just avoided mentioning Jungkook, staying vague about your semester while Taehyung told you everything about Paris. 
And so you end up saying goodbye to Nabi when she decides to go over to Yoongi and Namjoon’s apartment - Namjoon was quick to take Hoseok’s old room, seeking to leave the dorms once and for all - and you and Ria watch Demon Slayer, her favourite anime.
Coincidentally one of Jungkook’s favourite animes too, not that it matters.
You sigh - reminders of him are everywhere lately, and though you have been moving on over the summer, the ache has been revived. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he at home, watching anime or playing video games? Is he hanging out with Taehyung, with Jimin and their other friends? Or is he locked up in his room like he was all of Friday, before you fled the apartment?
It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Because Jungkook will always matter: he meant too much to you. Still does, and you don’t know what to make of it.
Ria sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts as the episode finishes. You glance at her - you’re lying side by side on her bed, a laptop in between you to watch the show.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her.
She purses her lips, shrugging, though it proves to be awkward considering the position. “I don’t know. It’s just… Is something wrong with me?”
A concerned crease appears between your eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know…” She pauses, gaze still focused on the laptop screen as if she can’t bring herself to meet your own. “Why am I so opposed to relationships? To love in general?”
Oh. 
“Oh Ria…” you let out.
“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want to be pitied.”
You press your lips in a tight line, nodding once. She chuckles, and then she starts the next episode, like she needs a moment to collect her thoughts.
“It’s just…” she says as Tanjiro fights a demon, the fight continued from the last episode. “I’m aware that Seokjin would be good for me. I enjoyed spending time with him too. But the second he mentioned feelings…”
“It turned you off,” you complete for her.
She nods. “It really did.”
“Why do you think it did?” you ask, even though you know it has to be because of her ex.
She sighs deeply. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I had a loving family growing up, so I can’t blame it on that. I had friends too, good friends, but then when my ex cheated…”
“It broke the part of you that could trust easily,” you say. “And it’s understandable, and totally valid.”
“I guess so…” she trails off. “I just feel like letting someone in is too much of a vulnerability.”
“That makes sense,” you say. “You like being in control, and you feel like being in a relationship would make you lose control.”
She glances at you, eyes slightly narrowed. “Sometimes I swear to God you sound like a therapist.”
You laugh - it’s not the first time you’ve been told that. Yoongi said so last semester too, when you’d helped him get over Hoseok.
“Don’t ask me for advice though,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “I don’t think I’d have any good advice.”
“Not to be mean, but after what you put yourself through last semester, I don’t think your advice would be really helpful,” she teases.
You widen your gaze. “That was mean.”
She pouts, offering you puppy eyes. You push her on the shoulder, and she rolls on her back, laughing. “No, but seriously,” she says. “I don’t blame you. You fell in love, and that’s not your fault, is it?”
You remain silent, not wanting the conversation to turn to Jungkook. 
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes after a few seconds of silence. “You’re right, that was mean.”
“You’re not wrong, though,” you reassure her. “I saw all the red flags and chose to ignore them.”
Ria turns on her side again, facing you. “That’s love for you. Everyone ignores all the red flags the moment they start having feelings for someone else.”
Like Seokjin, but you don’t say it. You highly doubt she needs to hear it.
“Cheers to that,” you say, though you are void of any beverage at the moment.
You’ve left your water bottle on the floor, too far to reach from where you’re lying in bed.
“You know what we should do?” Ria says a while later, when the episode is coming to an end. “We should go to the party on Friday. The one Dave’s frat is hosting.”
The name Dave rings an extremely distant bell - you think you went to a party hosted by his frat last semester, but you’re not quite sure.
“I thought we were already planning to go.”
Ria looks at you, mischief slowly filling her gaze. “We should go and find some cute guys to forget about all of our problems with.”
You laugh. “Men aren’t the solution to everything, you know that, right?” you tease.
“Oof. They’re the root of the problem most of the time, I know.” She pauses, purses her lips. “But we’re due to have fun. You know Nabi and Namjoon will come for an hour or two and disappear anyway.”
“What about Yoongi?”
“We’ll find him someone too! He deserves it.” She nods, clearly convinced that her plan is the best she’s ever come up with.
And Yoongi does, you think that out of the three of you, he’s the one that deserves a healthy relationship the most. 
So you nod your head, saying, “It’s going to be lit.”
You can only hope that it is and that you don’t end up crying because of a certain doe-eyed man you should have let go of months ago.
Friday, September 6th  
[11:17 am] bröther👽: just letting you know that Gaby is in town so Ari will be staying with her [11:17 am] bröther👽: come home
The texts Taehyung sent to you in the morning sit unanswered on your phone. Mostly because you didn’t know what to say - he still firmly believes you’ve decided to move out because of Ariane, and you think it might have killed a possible friendship with her in the bud.
If only they knew why you truly left. It likely wouldn’t be any better - Jungkook would be dead in a ditch somewhere, and you’d be grounded by your older brother like you were when you were in high school.
You know Taehyung is likely only going to grow suspicious if you ignore him, but you really just don’t know what to say. He’s likely going to be at the party tonight - you’ll make an effort to speak to him, to reassure him, and then you’ll disappear with your friends.
That is, if Jeon Jungkook isn’t with him. Because if Jungkook’s there, you’ll avoid Taehyung like the plague, no matter if that might make him even more suspicious.
“I literally cannot physically wait,” Ria says next to you, and you shoot her a quick look as she puts mascara on.
She’s going all out tonight, and you wonder if it’s because Yoongi mentioned Kim Seokjin will be in attendance. Obviously, you don’t want to attract her ire, so you don’t say it, but you reckon Seokjin has been a ghost in every conversation since last Monday.
Much like Jungkook has been, but you’ve been good at pretending he hasn’t.
“I really hope they’ve stocked up on free alcohol,” you say, knowing you’ll need it, mostly because if Taehyung is in attendance, then Ariane will likely be, and so will Gabrielle. 
Your heart sinks in your chest at the thought - you haven’t told Ria, not wanting to ruin her enthusiasm. 
“Do you want to curl your hair?” Ria says as she finishes with the mascara. 
You shrug. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it natural,” you answer. “But you should curl yours.”
She narrows her gaze, staring at herself in the mirror. “You know what, yeah, I should.”
You chuckle, and then you both busy yourself getting ready. You apply more makeup than you usually do, only because you know it’ll be a mask you’ll use all evening.
Does Gabrielle even know about your existence?
You finish getting ready, stealing from Ria’s closet to get dressed. You settle on a pair of black leather pants, along with a black crop top t-shirt that hugs tight to your frame, revealing just an inch of the bird tattoo you got done on your right ribs in May.
You stare at the ink, thinking about Taehyung’s reaction. He’ll likely be pissed at you, but you’re done caring. If he wants to be mad, then so be it.
“Your ass looks amazing in this,” Ria compliments from behind you, and you snort as you turn to look at her.
She’s wearing a sage green corset that leaves little to the imagination. You compliment her in return, and she winks at you, before suggesting to down a couple of shots before leaving. You immediately agree, and you’ve got a light buzz by the time you leave the dorms, heading to the frat house.
It’s already crowded by the time you get there, the loud music having attracted all the party-goers on campus. The front lawn is cramped, and Ria grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to head to the house proper.
You make it to the hall, and luckily enough, there aren't as many people here. You’re able to navigate to the living room, where Dave - he really is the guy from last semester - finds you, offering drinks to the two of you.
You grab a beer, not trusting the questionable punch that Dave claims was prepared earlier today. Ria follows your lead, and you clink bottles with Dave, who admits he has no clue what’s in the punch when you’ve all taken your first sips.
“Bruh, why were you trying to sell it to us then?” Ria asks, eyebrows raised.
Dave laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Colton said it was good.” 
Colton… you wonder if it’s the same Colton that had warned you about Jungkook once.
“And we’re supposed to trust Colton?” Ria teases.
Dave winces. “Not really, no, he’s already drunk.”
Ria nods as you take a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid heady on your tongue. You turn your head to the side, noticing a very distraught Yoongi walking into the living room, followed close by an even more distraught Seokjin. You wave them over, and Ria and Dave both turn their heads towards the new arrivals.
You notice Ria tensing from the corner of your eye, and Seokjin looks just as uncomfortable as he stops next to you. You hug Yoongi hello, and he doesn’t let you go right away, whispering in your ear, “This place is a shitshow, I don’t think we’ll stay.”
You pout as you pull away. “We said beer pong,” you remind him.
He rolls his eyes, though you know he’s always liked playing beer pong. So you manage to convince him to go for at least one game, though you know you’ll have to wait in line for a while before it’s your actual time to play. It makes for an awkward waiting - Ria and Seokjin are both ignoring each other, and Yoongi and you are standing in the middle, trying to engage in conversation.
You’re finally on the side of the table when you recognize your brother’s laugh, a sound you were sort of hoping not to hear in this crowd. You look to your left - he’s by the garden doors that lead to the backyard, Ariane cuddled up against him, and you think the girl standing with her back to you has to be Gabrielle.
“Shit,” you let out.
Yoongi furrows his brow at the sudden curse. “What’s wrong?” You motion towards the door, and his eyes widen. “Is that who I think it is?”
He knows about Gabrielle. He’s stalked her with you, during one of your many downward spirals, and Gabrielle has that kind of aura that is all too recognizable, even if you’ve only seen her once in a picture.
“I think so,” you reply, and Ria finally leans in to join the conversation.
“Is that Gaby?” she asks, loud enough for the people around you to hear.
You tap her arm, giving her a warning glance, though you’re pretty sure no one’s actually listening. Even Seokjin didn’t glance towards you at the outburst.
But Taehyung notices you, and you quickly turn away, pretending to be focused on the game unfolding on the table in front of you. There’s one cup on the left, three on the other side, and the girls playing are clearly more talented than you: they both shoot it in the lone glass when their turn comes, hugging as they shriek in happiness from their victory.
“Let’s go,” Ria says, and she pulls you to one end of the table as soon as the girls have moved. 
Yoongi and Seokjin take the other side, even though Seokjin truly does appear like he wishes he wasn’t here, and you put the cups back into their spot, reorganizing the table.
Your brother appears next to you before you start, and you offer him a tight-lipped smile.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks. 
“Me?” you let out, your voice uncharacteristically high. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says through gritted teeth, the typical Kim temper flaring up.
You grab the neon orange ball Ria hands you, shrugging your shoulders. “I haven’t. Just been busy.”
He clenches his jaw, yet remains silent as you focus on the table, preparing for the first shot, the one that determines who between you and Ria or Yoongi and Seokjin will play first.
You’re against Yoongi, so you know you’ve already lost when you shoot. To your surprise, Yoongi misses, his ball bouncing off on the side of a cup. Yours flies way off the table, and you wince.
“That was trash,” Taehyung comments.
“Thanks,” you fire back.
Ria and Seokjin throw, and Ria surprisingly manages to get the shot. You clap your hands as she offers you a thumbs-up.
“Seriously though,” Taehyung asks, handing you the ball that Seokjin threw. “What’s wrong? Why did you move out?”
“Hold on,” you say. 
You take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety of his questioning away, and you throw. The ball stays on the table this time, bouncing right next to one of the cups.
“Honestly it’s just so that I can spend time with Ria,” you answer, motioning to your friend. “She’s going through shit.”
Ria tenses next to you, offering you a quick glare before she focuses on shooting, unfortunately missing the cups.
“Oh,” Taehyung lets out. “I thought it was because of Ari.”
Speaking of Ari, you don’t see her anywhere near. You wonder where she went off to - are you lucky enough that she and Gabrielle left the party?
“Not at all,” you reply, and then you focus on the game as Seokjin and Yoongi prepare to throw. They both make it into a cup, and you clink your almost empty beer with Ria’s, taking a long sip before you move the cups to the side. “Ari’s super sweet.”
“She’ll be relieved when I tell her so,” Taehyung admits. “She was saying she could leave if it was an issue with you that she moves in with us.”
“It really isn’t,” you reassure Taehyung, feeling momentarily guilty for making Ariane feel like that. “I’ll probably come back eventually too.”
Taehyung’s eyes light up. “That’d be sick. We need to start doing Taco Tuesdays again.”
Taco Tuesdays. You’d forgotten all about them last semester - you’d spent every Tuesday last fall eating tacos with Taehyung, Jungkook joining once in a while. It was a tradition you’d had growing up with your mother too - when she wasn’t too busy working.
“I’m down,” you reply, and you get ready to throw.
To your surprise, you make the shot, landing it in the first cup at the front. Ria throws hers, and it bounces on the rim of one of the glasses before Seokjin catches it expertly. 
“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” you ask.
Everything stills inside of you. You don’t even know why you asked - you didn’t even think about it before the question fell. But then again, you think it makes sense that Jungkook would invade your thoughts now. 
When does he not?
Ria throws you a curious look at the question, though you don’t miss the disapproval in the furrow of her brows. 
“JK?” Taehyung says, as if he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so. He says he wants to focus on college this semester.”
You nod curtly, getting ready to defend your cups as Seokjin and Yoongi throw. To your luck, they both miss, and you let Ria shoot first as you focus on Taehyung again.
“Makes sense now that he has to work for his father’s company, no?” you say, trying to sound as if you don’t care.
As if Jungkook is not the center of your universe, still to this day.
“I guess so,” Taehyung comments, and you throw, entirely missing the table again.
Ria lands hers in a cup though, which leaves four cups in front of the boys and three in front of you and Ria.
“I still can’t believe the motherfucker is rich and he never told us,” Taehyung adds.
You get the feeling. You still think New York was a fever dream - even more so now that you’ve lost Jungkook. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, and it trickles down your body, burning all along the way.
“It’s crazy,” you let out, and it sounds just as flat as you feel - like maybe your heart just flatlined in your chest.
Taehyung makes a non-committal sound, and you’re able to focus on the rest of the game without any interruption. You evidently end up losing to Seokjin and Yoongi, and you shake hands with the boys, congratulating them for their win, even though you’d all expected it. 
“I’ll go get something to drink,” Taehyung says when you finally glance his way again. “Stay away from the punch.”
And then he leaves, and you mimic him as he walks away, raising your middle finger to his back. Ria snorts next to you, and you laugh along with her.
“He’s making me want to have some of the punch,” she says, and you laugh harder.
“Hard pass,” Seokjin says, and Ria stiffens next to you. “I tasted it, and it tastes like piss.”
“Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone pissed in it,” Yoongi says. “This party is…”
“Juvenile?” you provide.
Ria laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “It’s fun, stop.”
She sounds just as unconvinced as you think she seems, yet you all don’t mention it, which you reckon happens a lot around her lately. 
“I think we’ll head out,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “Want to have a beer back at my place?”
“And disturb the lovebirds?” Ria answers. “No thank you.”
Indeed, Namjoon and Nabi chose to stay in tonight, and you don’t have to use a lot of brain power to imagine what they might be doing right now, when they finally have full privacy in the apartment.
“Right,” Yoongi lets out. He winces, then shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here for a couple of hours, then.”
He says that in Seokjin’s direction, who runs a hand on his forehead before nodding. “Can we at least go outside?”
“Sure. You girls coming?” Yoongi asks, motioning to the backyard.
Ria doesn’t even wait for you to reply, instead tugging you towards the garden doors. You stop her, glancing over your shoulder. “I actually really have to pee, but I’ll join you guys outside?”
She narrows her gaze in suspicion, and you furrow your brows. She leans in, whispering, “Are you trying to leave me alone with Seokjin?”
You snort. “Not at all,” you reply, patting her hand on your arm. “I genuinely am just about to pee myself. You know how I am with beer.”
She fake-gags, and you playfully push her as she bursts out laughing. “Ayt, we’ll be outside.” 
You wave them goodbye, and Seokjin awkwardly waves back before following Yoongi and Ria. You chuckle at the sight before heading to the bathroom, which you think is probably on the second floor.
So you make it towards the staircase you see in the corner, squeezing through the crowd and apologizing all the way, though most people are too drunk to even notice you. You successfully make it to the staircase, and you walk around the group of girls sitting on the steps, making it to the second floor unscathed. 
“Bathroom?” a guy who clearly looks like he belongs to the frat asks you.
You almost startle at the unexpected question, though you recover quickly, nodding your head. 
“Last door on the left,” he tells you. “I think someone’s in there right now though.”
“Should I not wait then?” you ask.
He chuckles. “From what I saw when I exited it was just one girl alone so, you should be good.”
“Thanks,” you answer, offering him a small smile, and he nods once before heading down the stairs, though he quickly realizes that it might be too big of a feat. He indeed just plops down on the stairs, striking up a conversation with the girls there.
They look like they know him, so you walk away, heading to the last door on the left. You lean against the wall outside, pulling your phone out of your pocket. 
No notifications greet you, so you push it back into your pocket, right as the door unlocks, and then opens.
You freeze, just as much as she does. Both of your gazes widening, until she lets out a small, “Hello”, the word heavy with a French accent.
Of course, the girl in the bathroom had to be Gabrielle.
“Hi,” you reply, and you try to smile, though you’re not sure it works.
“You’re Taehyung’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks.
You nod curtly. “The one and only.”
She smiles. “Thought so.” There’s a pause as she doesn’t move from the doorway, and you just wait, awkwardness filling every inch of you. 
Her next sentence throws you off the axis you’ve been spinning on for months now, and you just stare at her in disbelief. 
“You’re not with Jungkook tonight?” she asks.
You feel hot and cold at the same time, your heart rate picking up uncomfortably in your chest. Your palms turn clammy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if sweat appeared on your temples.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She frowns. “I thought Ari said…” she trails off, and then she shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.” She smiles gently. “I’m happy he’s got you now.”
You think your eyes are bulging out of your head. They have to - the conversation isn’t making any sense, and you aren’t drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol.
“What?”
Her frown reappears. “Aren’t you two dating now?”
You laugh. It’s a sad, pathetic laugh, and Gabrielle looks at you like you’re crazy.
“He cheated on me with you,” you say. “Why would I be dating him?”
The frown falls, replaced by utter surprise. Her mouth opens on a silent ‘Oh’, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself, and then she says, “Non mais putain qu’il est con.”
You don’t speak French, so all you can do is cock an eyebrow quizzically. And then she lets out a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head.
“I told him to tell you,” she says, and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “But he’s really stupid sometimes.”
“I’m sorry?”
She offers you a small smile bordering on pity, and you brace yourself for what she’ll say next.
“Fille, I’m gay,” she says. “Jungkook was always only pretending to be my boyfriend so my family wouldn’t know. I didn’t know about you when I kissed him in Paris, and I only kissed him because Ari was growing suspicious.” 
You think you’re frozen in place. Like, stared into Medusa’s eyes and turned to stone frozen in place. All you can do is stare at Gabrielle, unblinkingly, as her words spin round and round in your head, caught in a dizzying tornado you can’t follow.
“I told him to tell you,” she repeats, and she sounds far too apologetic for the erratic beating of your heart. For the realization that she just hit you with.
You think she hit harder than a physical slap would have.
“What?” you say, voice small and weak and oh so broken.
Months. You’ve been breaking for him for months… and for what? For a promise he refused to break, one that would have explained everything in a way that would have made you work.
You would have forgiven him, no hesitation. Hell, you reckon you would have told him you loved him, would have told him you wanted to be with him from now on until you turn to dust.
But he had to choose to respect a promise he made years ago, to an ex that wasn’t really an ex after all, was she?
Just a friend from high school.
She was, after all, just a friend from high school.
She nods. “Yeah. He told me all about you.” She smiles again, though this time it’s just sad, like she knows just how shattered you are over this man. “I was rooting for you two.”
“He didn’t tell me,” you whisper as if Gabrielle hadn’t already pieced that together. “Why?”
She sighs. “He’s stupid,” she says as an explanation. “He’s the kind that’ll sacrifice himself if it means helping someone else. I suppose you know that already.”
You nod, because you do.
He sacrificed himself for you last semester when you got home crying on Valentine’s Day. And he sacrificed countless parties over his promise to Taehyung to look after you.
And he sacrificed you to protect Gabrielle’s secret.
“Holy shit,” you let out.
“Talk to him,” she says softly. “Go talk to him now. I’m not letting him lose you over me.” She scoffs, the frown she’d sported earlier returning. “I should have realized before. That he didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze widens, and you shake your head no. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”
It’s not your fault if he broke my heart.
It’s always just been his fault, hasn’t it?
But then again… you know now. You know that he never cheated on you, that he was right when he was saying that it wasn’t what you thought it was. 
You know that he was there, with you. That he felt for you what you felt for him, that he was chasing cars around your head, too.
And if there’s a chance you can salvage that, repair two hearts in one stone, you know you have to do it.
“I have to talk to him.” You say the words with quiet conviction, and Gabrielle nods, offering you an encouraging smile. “Fuck.”
“Go to him, fille,” Gabrielle says. “And tell him he’s an enfoiré for me.”
You highly doubt you’d be able to repeat that word, yet you still say, “Will do.”
And then you take off, entirely forgetting that you had to pee. You have one goal in mind, and it’s to run home, where you know he has to be according to what Taehyung said. You don’t even stop to text him, to confirm that he really is.
No, you run down the stairs, through the crowd and outside. The front lawn isn’t as crowded as earlier, and you easily make it to the sidewalk, skidding to a halt just long enough to change direction. 
And then you’re running home. Running home to him, your heart beating wildly. For the right reason this time. And as you run, lungs struggling to get enough oxygen in, thighs burning with heat, you feel infinite. You feel like you’re a star in the sky above, or maybe the moon returning to her lover. You feel like a bird soaring high, like a dolphin riding the waves.
You feel young and old and small and big, all at once. Like nothing is ever going to stop you again. You feel in love, you are in love, and after all the months of suffering, you reckon it’s the most beautiful feeling you’ve ever experienced.
You didn’t know you could sprint like you are right now, yet even though your body is straining, you’re not slowing down. You’ve pulled your phone out of your pocket to make sure it doesn’t fall as you run, yet you don’t slow down.
You can’t slow down anymore, not when your gravity finally aligned with his again.
Like it was always meant to be. Because it’s always been meant to be you and him, hasn’t it?
You make it home in a record time, climbing up the stairs… only to realize you don’t have your keys. They are back at the dorms, but it’s too late.
You try the door, and to your surprise, the doorknob turns, and you barge into your home, barge into this life with him.
You catch your breath as you stop in the hall, doubling over when you realize you’ve actually ran - sprinted - for nearly a mile. You’re lucky the frat house wasn’t further away - you highly doubt you would have made it home if it was any further.
“Y/n?” Jungkook says from his bedroom.
You straighten, trying to catch your breath. And the second your eyes land on him, you know it was all worth it.
Every single second of suffering was worth it to be here with him tonight.
“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.
He’s shirtless, his honey skin just as warm as you remember it to be. He’s in fact only wearing grey joggers, and his hands are lost in his pockets like he’s trying to look nonchalant.
The concern on his features tells you he, as a matter of fact, isn’t as nonchalant as he’s trying to appear.
“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”
“Yes?”
You laugh. You know you might look crazy, but you literally just ran a mile for this man, and each foot was worth it. 
The grandest journey of your life, wasn’t it?
“She told me,” you say.
He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”
“Gabrielle told me everything.” You surprise yourself by blinking away tears, and you let out a small laugh as you go to dry them.
Jungkook remains silent, just staring at you with horror slowly inching into his gaze. You don’t know how, or why, but it only occurs to you then that he might not be alone right now. 
“Kook?” you whisper, unable to say it louder.
Not when you’re slowly crashing down from the high.
“Y/n, I…” he trails off. He closes his eyes, head hanging low. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
You gulp as you swallow. “Yeah, huh.”
You look down, noticing a pair of sneakers you’ve never seen before.
It takes all of the courage you can muster up to look back up when the door of the bathroom opens, revealing a dishevelled Lisa, in only a t-shirt you recognize all too well.
You’d used to sleep in that t-shirt, too.
Lisa sees you after you see her, turning beet red. She’s naked under Jungkook’s shirt, or at least you think she is.
You assume she is considering that he’s shirtless too.
“Oh,” you let out.
Choke out might be a more appropriate word. Because you’re crashing, and you’re crashing hard. Hitting the wall at 120 mph, splattering on it until there’s nothing left of you. Nothing left of that hope you’d found at the party, the hope Gabrielle had so kindly gifted you even though she owed you nothing.
Someone’s screaming. You think someone’s screaming - is it just in your head?
“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were here.”
“I live here,” you reply, voice empty of any emotion.
She purses her lips, nodding once, and then she hesitantly walks out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry I… I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
Neither did you. Neither did Jungkook - it would have saved everyone a whole lot of breaking if you’d known. 
If you’d known that having hope for Jeon Jungkook was futile and useless. 
How could you even think you were meant to be with him? There is no universe for you and him out there. Just different worlds of breaking. Because it’s all your soul knows how to do - all your soul knows is to break for him, to shatter and crash and fracture for the man standing in front of his opened bedroom door.
“No worries,” you say, though this time your voice does wobble.
This time, the pain does colour your tone in heartbreak blue.
Jungkook just remains silent, like he’s suddenly gone mute. You think it’s better like this - if he were to say anything right now, you think you’d likely break down here. Instead, you take a deep breath, pat your pockets and say, “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”
Unable to help yourself, you glance towards Jungkook once. He meets your gaze - he looks infinitely pained, the heartbreak stark on his features too. There’s some reassurance in knowing that he’s breaking, too. That you’re doing it together. 
Heartbreak isn’t as lonely when you’re doing it together. 
“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.
She falls silent, clearly hearing the screaming in your head too.
You’re outside a second later, carefully closing the door behind you. Carefully severing the rest of your relationship with Jungkook, until all that is left is the memories.
You take a step back, looking at the door, thinking he might open, might come see you.
Thinking he might be your home after all.
But he doesn’t, the door staying stubbornly closed. You get the message - your souls were never meant to merge. The songs that you thought were about him, about you, about the two of you together, they were never about you. You were never meant to lie down and forget the world with him. 
Or maybe you were, but it came with an expiration date.
You reckon you and Jungkook have always had an expiration date. You just forgot tonight, became blind to it thanks to false, treacherous hope. And so you leave, walking down the stairs as you blink away the tears that are clinging to your waterline.
You embrace the heartbreak, let it sweep through you until you think it’s all you’ve ever known. And like a true companion, the heartbreak carries your steps through the night.
Prev | Chapter 13.5 | Next
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do I feel bad for the amount of angst I wrote into this story? Maybe a little. I promise one day things will get better for these two, but in the meantime, what did you guys think?
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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sexybritishllama · 1 year ago
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strap in folks it's time for another neopets drama update
some background reading before we begin: back when neopets wanted to introduce customisation (i.e. dressing up your pet) in 2007, they decided to 'convert' all existing pet art to align with a rigid body structure, rather than all having unique poses. it was just not feasible to create new pieces of art for hundreds of different pet poses every single time they released a new clothing them
customisation had been highly requested up until this point. however, the conversion was NOT popular. in some cases, particularly for basic colours, the change wasn't huge, but in other cases.... uh....
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you get the idea. the more expensive colours like plushie, faerie, grey, royal and darigan got the worst of it because they had the more unique poses pre-conversion, and therefore it was largely agreed that the change to the stiff 'samey', frankly kinda goofy converted look did not look great
most users did not get a choice in having their neopet converted and it was done automatically, but if you had one of these colours where the change was huge, you were given the choice of converting or retaining the old pose (but not having the option to customise your pet). those pets that retained the old, pre-conversion poses are therefore referred to as 'unconverted', or UC for short
once a pet is converted, there's no returning to UC. you also couldn't create UC pets anymore, making UCs a limited resource that would only increase in value with time, particularly as people abandon their pets, leave the site, get frozen, etc.
i could write an entire dissertation on the drama that UC pets have caused for the pet trading economy, the neopet account black market, and general retention of the userbase, but to sum it up, people REALLY want UC pets. they are the single most coveted status symbol on the site
we skip forward now to 2023
the neopets team are planning to introduce UC pets back to the site, so that people will be able to create their own UC pets again for the first time post-converstion (legally at least)
they drip feed bits of information over the year about what this will look like. the main points are
changing a pet to UC will be done via some kind of item bought with neocash, the premium currency on neopets that you need to spend real money to get
putting this item on your pet will give it the UC art style appearance
so. not much really known. but expected release is set for january 2024
yesterday, they hosted an AMA focusing on the new UC pet system and how this was going to work. noticeably absent is any explanation of how much this is actually going to cost and whether it is going to involve any kind of gatcha mechanic, so that's causing our first lot of concern
second lot of drama is that the new UCs aren't actually going to be COMPLETELY the same as the old art, as they're making some small changes for style consistency, see below (old on top, new below):
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the biggest drama, however, comes from how they're dealing with the 'original' UC pets. ALL pets will be getting forcibly converted on the 23rd, with anyone who has a pet that is already an original UC immediately receiving the UC neocash item. there's mention of possibly some kind of trophy or badge recognition for particularly old pets, but it's vague, and generally seems like it won't be possible to distinguish between the original UCs and these new ones
the people who already have OCs are not happy about this
people are allegedly pounding their pets, cancelling their premium, and quitting the site in protest. the boards are flooded with people complaining about the changes and laughing at the downfall of the 'neo-elite' in equal measure
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it's t-minus 5 days until the second great conversion goes live. let's all pray for our souls
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lexosaurus · 1 year ago
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Money saving pro-tips to people from warm climates that move to a cold climate
Source: I lived with a southerner and a girl from LA in a northern city in the US and they wasted a lot of money.
Tip #1: Drop your heat at night, or any time you’re not home. Most people up north don’t keep the heat at the same temp 24/7. That shit's expensive. When I’m home, I keep my heat anywhere between 65-68F, but during the workday, or at night, that shit goes down to 60F. A lot of thermostats are programmable so you can have it set automatically to turn down while you're at work/at night.
Tip #2: If you’re leaving your home for over 24 hours, lower the heat as much as possible. I set mine to 55F. Apartments and even houses heat up pretty quickly, so there’s no reason to waste money if no one’s around, and you won’t die if you have to wear your coat indoors for a few minutes. Note: you can’t turn your heat off completely or your pipes will freeze.
Tip #3: If you’re home but you’re only going to be occupying one room for several hours, consider leaving the heat low and just buying yourself a space heater.
Tip #4: When buying a space heater, get one that has an internal timer or thermostat. They cost slightly more, but the bonus to these is that they don’t just continue putting heat into the air until you intervene. They will turn themselves on/off in intervals, which helps to keep your room at a more consistent temperature. Just don’t forget to make sure the heater is switched off if you’re leaving your home!
Tip #5: Get better socks. A lot of the cold you feel is actually just ur terrible, flimsy ankle socks not protecting you from the cold floor. If I’m lounging around at home, I wear those heavy duty fuzzy socks that have a whole internal double lining. I’m a raynaud’s bitch so I know what I’m talking about.
Tip #6: Fleece-lined leggings. Steal your bf’s fleece pants. Why do they make men’s casual sweats so much thicker than girl’s casual sweats? Literal bullshit.
Tip #7: Idk who lied to you and told you that a bed can only have one comforter, but that’s dumb. I sleep with two. It’s much warmer.
Tip #8: If you're in an old apartment/house, winterize your windows. You can buy winterizing seals and insulation anywhere online and it's very cheap.
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ipseitydelrey · 7 months ago
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idk if you do headcanons but I wanna know what you think each member of the BAU team would get you for your birthday?
<33
hi !! yes i def do general headcanons too, and this is such a good idea 🫶
birthday bash ☆ the B.A.U.
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characters aaron hotchner, spencer reid, emily prentiss, derek morgan, jennifer jareau, david rossi, penelope garcia, tara lewis, luke alvez, elle greenaway; can be seen as platonic or romantic with any character
content just some general headcanons
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aaron hotchner is incredibly observant and he cares for his team, so he will make sure you get at least a basket-full worth of stuff. he’ll likely say it’s from everyone on the team, even if he did pay for everything in the basket himself. he also goes out of his way to get presents for people he cares about (à la the halloween special where he got that darth vader mask for jack). included in the basket are some office supplies, flowers (of course), candies, and maybe a replacement of something you broke (like your favourite mug).
spencer reid will make sure to get you something that is functional from both an aesthetic standpoint and a practical one. of course, he’ll likely get you rare books with the pages yellow and worn from use, but are still delightfully charming, even if you’re not that interested in the contents of those pages. he’ll also treat you to a sort of last-minute-birthday-breakfast if you’re all called in to work, where he’ll get you your favourite pastry and coffee/tea, just the way you like it. antiquities are also a go to, whether it’s jewellery or otherwise.
emily prentiss is an enigma when it comes to gift giving; nobody knows what she’s getting for you, and nobody knows if it’s going to be a joke present or a genuinely thoughtful one (or some combination of the two). one present she might get for you are aphrodisiac chocolates because “you’ll never know if you get lucky” (her words).
derek morgan likely wouldn’t get you a genuinely thoughtful gift at first if you were relatively new to the team. but after some time on cases and at the office and such, he will put effort into his gifts. so for your first birthday with the team, he might play it safe by getting you gift cards; but after getting to know you more, he’ll get you something that is geared to your tastes, but it will be a gift that will remind you of him. although, he is just as likely as emily to get you a joke present, if not more.
jennifer jareau’s presents are quite rushed on account of her having to balance being an agent and a mom, but she does put a lot of heart into them. she knows more than anyone how taxing the job can get at times, so expect some well-deserved spa day coupons that she managed to find strewn around her place. it’s possible she’ll get you a couple instead of one. she will also likely give you a couple drawings henry and michael made, and you can bet that you’ll hang that up on your fridge at home.
david rossi in the early seasons (especially season three) would very likely not even plan on getting you a present unless he was reminded by hotch. however, in the later seasons, rossi definitely acts like the wine aunt who gives you straight up cash as a present. expect anywhere from $100 – $1k+, he has to use up the money he got from being a best-selling author somehow. also alcohol; he will get you expensive bottles of whiskey, scotch or wine, no room for argument (unless you have a legitimate reason).
penelope garcia goes all out for your birthday; obviously she puts the most effort in her gifts and more. for her presents, she will buy quite a lot, to the point where she might spend maybe half her pay check on the presents. her gifts mostly consist of decorations mostly for aesthetic purposes, but has little to do with everyday use. possible presents coming from her include paintings, pillows, fidget toys and mugs, all of which are very colourful. but she doesn’t just stop there with presents; she will likely organize a group dinner (or maybe a group breakfast, just in case of a possible case).
tara lewis is simultaneously the least expected and most expected member of the team to be a chaotic gift giver. she will also likely get you a joke present but while emily would get you something along the lines of a prank present, tara’s presents would be subtle and remind you of inside jokes either within the team or just between the two of you. also, expect alcohol, quite a number of the team will get you a bottle, including tara.
luke alvez definitely tries the hardest with his gifts (after penelope, of course), especially if he’s newer on the team. he’ll ask around for any ideas, either on what to get you or what kind of person you are with the team so he can figure it out for himself. if you have a dog (or two…or five), he will spoil the dog rotten with new toys, biscuits or dog accessories — which he probably collaborated with penelope on.
elle greenaway’s presents are ones that you shouldn’t really open with most of the team present because of their explicit nature. she’ll probably get you incredibly revealing swimwear (yet another collaboration with penelope), and also alcohol — specifically hard liquor. those are likely to be the only presents that you can actually open in front of everybody on the team without getting a lot of stares.
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pepshee · 15 days ago
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Push & Pull
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Pairing - toxic!heeseung x fem!reader
Summary - When Lee Heeseung, the campus it boy decides to take on a new girl expecting to just hookup and move on, but he didn't know that it would be more than a one night stand.
Warnings - idk how to write fics erm, my first fic, making out, drinking, frat parties, heeseung is a player, mentions of the other enha members, mentions of other idols no written smut but sex is implied (it didnt really fit the story to write smut sorry </3), fwb/situationship dynamic, lmk if i missed something !
Word count - 7.3k
A/N: hii so this is my first time writing fanfiction like ever.. I've been using tumblr for not that long but I have been reading fics for years on other platforms! idk if anyone actually reads these but i'm really sorry for any errors or especially grammar issues that occur in this fic. I tried my best, i'm aware it's not great but please leave me recommendations! also this fic is based off of a c.ai bot I wrote, the bot is a bit different tho, my c.ai is @/hee2eung if you want to check it out! Have fun reading! also I used Grammarly for half of this fic for some assistance but then I stopped bc it was starting to look like it was ai generated and I wanted it to seem more authentic yk
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
Being in your second year of college hasn’t been particularly difficult, although stressful; you’ve managed to balance your social life and school. Throughout your life, you’ve loved the ocean and marine animals, so you decided to major in marine biology. The university you go to is very expensive and prestigious—so imagine high school, senior year, getting a letter in the mail offering you a full ride to Kyung Hee University—you love this university due to the fact they had recently funded new majors. 
Originally they hadn’t offered marine biology, but luckily they had added it while you were still a junior in high school, which is why you decided to apply the following year. They even had funded hands-on programs to engage students and help them learn better than just using pen and paper, or in today's world, keyboard and mouse. Implementing an on-campus aquarium was by far the most beneficial to them; although expensive, they somehow managed it. Is it ethical? Who knows. What matters is the fact it’s there, and they do have on-site professionals to properly take care of the animals.
Managing the aquarium is by far your favorite part; hell, they even let you name one of the three seals. Being still a bit immature, you went with bubbles. Anyone on campus was able to visit the aquarium during the daytime. 
On this particular day, it was your day to take care of the seals and manage the aquarium. You had just finished feeding the small fish and the jellyfish. The only semi-large animal at the aquarium is the seal; everything else consists of small fish, jellyfish, and coral. You had gotten to the seals, grabbing a bucket of fish before walking through the staff door and going over to the seal pool. However, you hadn’t expected the campus it boy Lee Heeseung and his goons, who follow his every move, to show up.
Lee Heeseung.. Where do you even start? Everyone loves him. He's a part of the schools’ basketball team although, surprisingly enough, he’s actually a music major. You hadn’t had the chance to hear him sing, but from what you've heard it's angelic like he was heaven-sent. You wished that was all there was to him, but like many others, that wish quickly died. His reputation is mixed. It's never really clear if he's a good guy, or if he's like the boys from your high school.
As for his minions—Yang Jungwon, Park Jongseong AKA Jay, Sim Jaeyun AKA Jake, Park Sunghoon, Kim Sunoo, and Nishimura Riki—They're pretty much Heeseung, but with their own little twist. They love to follow his every move. It's not like he's using them, not at all, those are his best friends. They never say it but you can tell they'd kill for each other. Heeseung is the oldest among them.
Occasionally you’ve seen the seven of them behind the school smoking some cigarettes, weed, or drinking alcohol. They're all 21-23, so they're all of age except they know with your university strict rules because it's a private school if they got caught they'd be in mass amounts of trouble with the dean. 
They’re all rich, matter of fact, 90% of the student body is rich. Which makes sense when you take into account the obvious extreme tuition. You, on the other hand, are not rich. Your middle-class family didn't even want you applying to Kyung Hee because they knew if you had gotten accepted without a scholarship you wouldn't be able to go. They didn't want you to be disappointed, but luckily that disappointment never came.
The seven boys knew smoking and drinking while on campus was a heavy risk, but they didn't care. They figured since their families are rich they could just pay off the dean like they've done time and time again.
You're brought out of your thoughts when you get splashed a little by bubbles. But now you're once again wondering why Heeseung and his six friends had come to the aquarium.
They had never come to the aquarium, they never even appeared at school events that weren’t sports-related. You decide to ignore it for now and proceed to feed the seals. There were a few lingering visitors that weren’t Heeseung. You made the seals do a couple of tricks sometimes.
Except while doing this, you noticed Heeseung’s lingering gaze on you, his expression stone cold. You had no clue what he was thinking… That is until you overhear him talking to his friends. 
 “This is what they spent so much money on?” He asked his friend, Jake, in a more neutral tone. He was so hard to read, it ate you up inside. “Yeah, I think it’s kind of nice actually,” Jake responded; he thankfully is easy to read, unlike his best friend. 
“Hey, say, who’s the girl feeding the seals?” His expressionless face now gained a slight smirk; it seemed like he was planning something.
“Why? Are you interested?” Sunghoon responds clearly, teasing him; you can tell by the grin he’s wearing. 
“Just look at her; she seems innocent,” Heeseung's smirk growing even larger now.
After the first couple of seconds of their conversation, you stopped listening; instead, you focused on finishing feeding the seals. 
After the bucket was emptied, you put it back and left the seal pool. You wash your hands, trying your best to rid them of the fishy smell—though not very successfully, at least your hands are clean and no longer slimy—you go into the back and grab your things. You head out of the staff area, and you’re about to leave; that is until… 
“Princess” You stop in your tracks as your heart immediately starts speeding up. The voice is one you know all too well, one everyone on campus knows. Did Lee Heeseung just call you princess? Slowly you turn your head to look at him.
“Do you need something?” You try your best to hide the shakiness in your voice, to which you fail.
“What's your name?” There's an unmistakable almost mocking expression in his voice. You never thought you'd be face-to-face with Heeseung and his 6 minions.
“It's Kim Y/N” You managed to keep your voice steady even though you were quite nervous.
“Haven't really seen you around before, you must like the seals don't you?” He asked you, you can tell he doesn't care about what your answer will be, but you fall deeper into his alluring facade.
You've heard all the rumors flying around campus, how Heeseung is a player, but then one that immediately contradicts that one saying he’s an angel and he can genuinely hold a relationship. 
It's so hard to tell what's real and what's not anymore when it comes to Heeseung. 
“Uhh, yeah I do like the seals, they’re really cute aren't they?” Usually, you'd be really excited to talk about the seals you adore so much, and your usual bubbly personality always makes people love you. This time however, your excitement is on pause.
“They are quite cute, now, Y/N; have you been to a frat party before?” He leans down getting closer to you.
“I went to one last year when I was a freshman and I hated it so I never went back.” Thinking of the first and last time you went to a frat party is like a nightmare.. You thought it would've been somewhat like the movies, but it was much, much worse. Nobody told you the amount of dirt, vomit, and unidentifiable substances you'd come across. Not to mention the fact a guy was all over you and wouldn't leave you alone until your best friend Julie threatened him. Where would you be without Julie? You have no clue, but you know it's nowhere pleasant. 
“Aww how disappointing, well good thing none of us are in a frat, so the party my boy Riki is throwing at his place isn't a frat party. He has a big ass house, you should come princess. I’ll make sure whatever happened at that frat party doesn't happen again, trust me,” Surprisingly, this time, it was said softly, different from the way he spoke before. 
“How can you guarantee that? You don't even know what happened last time,” 
“I don't have to know, all I know is that it won't happen again. Be there, meet at the fountain on Saturday, 6 PM. We’ll take you to Riki's house,” You thought about his offer. What if it’s different this time? Heeseung wouldn’t make an empty promise would he? Should I ask my friends for advice? Before you could even get an answer to any of those inner thoughts, you even surprise yourself with the answer you shot out. “Sure, I guess I’ll go.”
“Perfect,” he muttered, now standing back up and no longer leaning toward you. 
“We’ll see you there,” you didn’t expect Jake to say something, or any of his friends to say something to you. Before you can even comprehend the interaction fully, the seven are already walking off.
You sigh and check your phone seeing the time 2:37 displayed on the small screen in your device. Shit. You forgot you were supposed to meet up with your friends Julie, Karina, and Jennie at the campus café—which is student-run—to study and of course, gossip. You all had agreed to me at 2:30, meaning you're 7 minutes late. Now you have to rush across campus… god that damn Lee Heeseung. 
────୨ৎ────
Finally arriving at the café, you spot your friends sitting at a table and quickly go to join them.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Karina teased
“Jesus did you run here?” Julie laughs out, You take a moment to catch your breath before responding “I mean.. Maybe a little? I’m so sorry I got caught up talking with someone I just—”
“Y/N, it's fine we were only joking! Go order your drink and have a seat. Lucky for you we were waiting for you to get here before we started gossiping,” Jennie interrupts, letting out a small chuckle at your out-of-breath look.
“Right..” You breathe out, setting down your bag walking up to the front counter to order a drink. There's so many drink options but you always seem to order the same thing every time.
“Hi, what can I get you?” The barista asks politely ready to take your order. 
“Hi, can I get a large frozen hot chocolate with caramel sauce, and two pumps of the caramel syrup please?”
“Of course! We’ll make that right away!”
After waiting about 5-7 minutes you got your drink, you loved this drink so much. Even though there wasn't any caffeine, you loved it. You take a sip, it's pure bliss to you, although that same bliss isn't exactly shared for everyone. You walk back to your friends and sit down, you grab your books and laptop situating yourself before speaking. “So… is it gossip time now?” you ask, clearly giddy with the idea of sharing dirty rumors, insights and leaked secrets. 
Each one of you shares your own little pieces, the minutes ticking by and the studying completely forgotten. However, you perk up at the name of a boy.. A boy who was always a topic in these gossip sessions, but now, suddenly it feels a bit more… Intriguing? Why? Was it because the boy was Heeseung? The one who invited you to a party, called you princess, and spoke to you in a way that made your heart flutter in a way it never did for him.
“I heard Heeseung was making out with Wony behind the bleachers of the basketball court,” Julie leans forward while speaking knowing the topic of Lee Heeseung is quite hot and if anyone overheard would probably spread it further. Although her action is quite hypocritical cause she's currently spreading rumors that she heard from someone else, you let it slide.
“Really? Heeseung and the cheer captain? I saw it coming from the start, is it true tho?” Karina chiming in with her own input “I think so, someone said they got pretty heated, rumor has it they went to the locker room,” Julie responds back, it's clear she loves gossip. She somehow knows everything.
“Isn't this his third girl this week?” The unamused tone in Jennie's voice is prominent, obviously not his first time doing this. 
“What's weird is when he does get girlfriends he's always loyal, treats them like queens, and he can hold a relationship. I don't understand him. It's like this constant push and pull.” Karina chimes in. You've been quiet throughout this whole exchange since Heeseung became the topic. By this point you stopped listening after Karina's line. That is until you're pulled out of your thoughts by a familiar low voice.
“Talking about me with your friends Y/N?” 
Fuck.
All four of you whip your heads around to see Heeseung standing by the café entrance. He lets out a chuckle and starts approaching the table you and friends are sat at.
“I hope you're not talking any shit over here ladies,” Heeseungs huge smirk giving away the meaning of his words
“Y/N you know him? When were you gonna tell us you’ve spoken to Heeseung?” Julie's voice raised slightly due to her surprise.
You’re about to say something to reply to her but Heeseung does before you can, “Oh we’ve talked, haven’t we Y/N? She’s coming with me to Riki’s party on Saturday.” His smirk grew wider, and his tone dropped slightly.
“She’s what!?” Your three friends whipped their heads back to you looking at you with wide eyes. 
“I was gonna tell you…” You say, all the attention making you a bit timid.
“You didn’t bother to come talk to us first?” Karina explains her disappointment.
“I’m sorry.. It was an in-the-moment type thing..” You then check the time seeing its almost 3:35, you have a class at 3:40. As much as you’d hate to leave the conversation like this, you had to. “Um.. I have to go, I’ll see you guys later. I’m sorry..” You put your books and laptop away, getting up and putting on your bag. You give everyone one last glance, including Heeseung before exiting the cafe. 
────୨ৎ────
It’s now Saturday. 
You had resolved the situation with your friends and now they’re kind of cheering for you. They know you hate parties and the fact you’re coming out of your shell makes them happy for you. Currently you’re getting dressed, it’s 5:22 PM. You had just picks out a dress. A black, tight-fitted dress. The fabric has sparkles on it, and the straps of the dress are laced, and it drops into a slight ‘V’ in the chest area. It’s a bit scandalous, but maybe you like it that way. You’re not used to wearing fancy dresses. 
Finally arriving at the fountain after finishing your hair and make up you see Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon waiting there, waiting for you. 
You walk over to them, and they turn their heads to you. Once Heeseung sees you he starts to smirk before speaking, his voice low. “Didn’t think you’d make it princess. You look nice. Come on let’s go,” He makes a gesture with his hand before walking towards a car with his friends following beside him. You start following, having to speed walk to catch up due to all of them being tall. Once you make it to the car you all get in, Jake and Sunghoon in the back, Heeseung driving, and you in the passenger seat. It all seemed suspiciously calculated but you didn’t say anything because it was probably just your mind playing tricks on you. 
The car ride was seemingly normal, with Jake and Sunghoon being rowdy in the back, and you and Heeseung being completely silent with occasional glances here and there. You were texting your friends when Heeseung suddenly hands you his phone while driving. You look up from your phone to look at him confused before he finally says “You’re on aux pretty,” You don't know why but your heart felt like it was doing tricks in your chest. 
After a pretty silent car ride besides Jake’s yelling, Sunghoon’s babbling, and the music you had put on you arrive at Riki’s huge mansion. It’s crazy how a middle-class girl like you is even in the presence of these rich people. The four of you walk into the mansion, the music loud, rainbow lights all over the place, and the living room acting as a make-shift dance floor. Immediately you can smell all the alcohol and weed. 
You wander off on your own to get a look at the mansion, it looked so nice and you really wanted to see all the things the mysterious Nishimura had around his place. It was beautiful really, nothing you’d ever seen before. Not that you’d seen the interior of mansions before anyways.. You made your way to the kitchen only to find many, many alcohol bottles. You pick one up inspecting it before hearing a voice behind you, 
“I didn’t take you for a drinker Y/N.” The voice is so familiar to you that you don’t even need to look behind you to know it was Heeseung. 
“I’m not, Lee”
“Why don’t you try some then princess?” He starts pouring some alcohol into a cup not even awaiting a response.
“I mean I guess I can..” You were a bit nervous, never in your life had you drank alcohol. Not even at the frat party you went to years ago. He hands you the cup and you take a small sip, you feel the liquid go down your throat with a burn. You cough a small amount and make a face at the bitterness of the drink. 
“What do you think?” Once again he has that same old smirk on his.. Gorgeous face. “It’s so bitter.. How do people drink this shit?” Your face contorting into a look of disgust, it was a serious question to you. 
“Well.. I don’t know but I enjoy it. Just wait till you start to get drunk.” He pours himself a cup of the same alcohol before immediately downing it in one go. You look at him in shock, “seriously? How and why?” 
“Makes it kick in faster,” He shrugs. 
“Woah the room is spinning” You say whilst taking another sip of the alcohol. You were starting to get used to it. 
“That means it’s working,” He smirks, leaning down to get closer to you. “Come on, why don’t we go dance?” You nod and he holds out his hand for you to take, which you do. He leads you to Riki’s living room where there’s a bunch of people dancing. Heeseung leads you to the middle before releasing your hand, and placing his hands on your waist instead. Your back is against his chest, you both dance together. You’re having so much fun you don’t notice his hands travelling down to your hips gripping them before pulling them to make your ass press against his clothed crotch. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, the alcohol had completely taken over your system at this point. You begin to grind your ass against him making his grip on your hips get tighter.
He leans down burying his face in your neck letting out a groan. “Princess, what do you think you’re doing?” He says breathlessly.
“Having fun.” 
“Why don’t we go somewhere else darling?” He whispers into your ear, his voice low and seductive. You nod and turn around so now you’re facing him. He takes your hand taking you around the house to find an empty bedroom. You two finally find one and enter it, as soon as you’re both inside he closes and locks the door before immediately pinning you to it. He takes a glance at your lips, and then back into your eyes. “Can I?” He asked. You nod, and he immediately crashes his lips onto yours. 
You kiss him back moving your hands onto his shoulders gripping his shirt tightly like he’ll disappear. Your lips move passionately against each other. His hands roam your body before finally landing on your ass grabbing handfuls of it. He slips his tongue into your mouth moving it against yours as you two make-out. You can feel saliva running down your chin from the messy kisses but you don’t pay attention to it, too focused on kissing him. 
You both start running out of breath, he finally pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips before breaking. You look into each other's eyes in a comfortable silence. However, it doesn't last long as Heeseung breaks it, “Bed. Now.” without hesitation you follow his command and make your way to the bed.
That night, you had the best sex of you life. You had heard Heeseung was good in bed, but you didn't think he was THAT good.. Turns out you had thought wrong. You'd only had sex two or three times before with an ex-boyfriend, but Heeseung was definitely so much better. 
That morning you found yourself waking up in a bed that wasn't yours. However, it also wasn't the room you had fallen asleep in. After having sex, you had fallen asleep in the bedroom in Riki's house, but now you're in a dorm room and it's not your own. You connect some dots and realize it's probably Heeseungs. Despite the college being extremely wealthy they still cheaped out on the dorm rooms. The rooms are thankfully spacious unlike public universities, however, they still have roommate systems so they don't have to build as many. Fortunately, Heeseungs wasn't home. You smell bacon coming from the other room and get out of bed noticing the clothes you're in clearly aren't yours. 
Walking into the kitchen you see Heeseung cooking breakfast for the two of you. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. You could never go wrong with a simple breakfast like that one. Heeseung hears your footsteps and looks up from the pan to look at you. “Morning sleepyhead,” he teases.
“Shut up, Lee,” you spit back, he can tell you didn't actually mean it but it made him let out a chuckle. 
He finishes cooking and plates the food and grabbing drinks and places them at the table. You both sit down across from one another. You glance at him for a brief moment feeling your heart flutter as you remember last night. Every touch, every caress, every orgasm, it all felt so real. Or did it?
After eating you get up to place your cup and plate in the sink. You check the time realizing you had a class in 45 minutes. “Heeseung, I have to go to class. I’ll see you later okay?” He nodded, getting up and approaching you. He gives you a quick gentle peck on your lips and gives you a sweet smile. You grab your things and give him a wave goodbye leaving his dorm secretly committing his dorm number to memory. You exit the dorm building, it was the West building, you live in the North building. That’s all the way across campus, you sigh before starting to speed walk to your dorm building so you could get ready for class. 
After a long way you make it and enter your dorm to find your roommate Natty already gone. You quickly change into your own clothes, do your hair and quickly do your makeup. You grab your bookbag and exit the dorm heading to your class.
Class was boring as usual, the only class you care about is the ones that pertain to your major. Speaking of, today is your day for the aquarium again. Suddenly your day is much better and you quickly make your way to the aquarium. On your way you look at the scenery which is always really pretty. The cherry blossom trees make it seem so aesthetic. You zone out while walking thinking of various topics like K-Pop, your friends, imaginary scenarios until they're interrupted when you catch sight of something. 
Lee Heeseung, and Jang Wonyoung. Julie had mentioned they were probably hooking up or
dating, but you didn't expect to see him touching her.. caressing her.. flirting with her.. You had figured it was a rumor, but seeing him in front of you touching and flirting with another girl made you upset. Did last night mean nothing? Did those tender touches in the morning mean nothing? What about the aftercare? 
He has his hands on her waist as they're talking, under a cherry blossom nonetheless, god how icky can this get. You storm off even tho you know he wouldn't notice. You keep going towards the aquarium. If all else fails at least there's bubbles right?
Your favorite part of your day, feeding the fish, and the jellies but most importantly the three seals. The others don't have names yet but you're working on it. Your professor said once all the freshmen can actually tell the seals apart then you can name the other two, but for now Bubbles is the only named one.
You started feeding the seals until there was no more fish in the bucket. You wait till they were done before doing a hand gesture. Bubbles is the only one who knows it since you had taught it to him. He swims up to lay on the edge of the seal pool. You then go to to pet him.
Fuck Heeseung when you have bubbles right? It's not common to use petting a seal as a comfort method, but to you it is. Why would Heeseung hookup with you, do aftercare, and make you food if he didn't like you? 
You pull out your phone and take a photo of you with Bubbles. This is your favorite thing to do to pass the time. Bubbles is just a seal but to you he’s one of the only people that will listen as corny as it sounds. 
That day went as normal, you went to your classes, hung out with your friends in between them, and visited the seals every now and then.
You're getting ready for bed when your phone screen lights up, you pick it up and see a text from an unknown number.
From: 010-6200-0000
| hey y/n
| it's heeseung 
| Julie gave me your number 
| oh hey hee what's up?
| do you need something?
| ‘hee’ ?? I like it
| anyways
| can you come over to my dorm?
| jay isn't here
| your dorm? 
| yk we're not allowed in 
the other buildings after 8:30 and it's 10
| idc figure it out
| it’ll be fine
| i can pay off the dean if you get caught
| wtv
| im omw 
You put your phone down and put on a hoodie, a phone charger, your school ID, and your phone and head out the door. Your roommate Natty is already asleep so you quietly slip out. Walking down the halls of the dorm building to the elevator.
Managing to sneak past the security, you make your way to the west dorm building having to sneak past the front desk where there's security. After successfully sneaking past you scan your ID at the elevator, luckily the security measures aren't that advanced. 
After the elevator ride to the 5th floor you walk down the hall to find the door with the number 15169.
You let out a small giggle, of course the campus’ alleged “sex god” would have 69 in his dorm number.
You knock on the door and wait for him to answer the door.
It only took a couple seconds for him to answer, the door opened and revealed him. He was in a simple black T-shirt and grey sweatpants.
 Shit. Grey sweatpants. Everyone knows what happens when guys wear grey sweatpants.
You took a glance down before quickly averting your eyes to his face. Your action doesn't go unnoticed as he internally smirks before looking you up and down. “Come in”
You walk into his dorm and he closes the door after you come in. “Must be good at sneaking around, hm?” You can practically hear the smirk on his face if that was even physically possible.
“Maybe, what's it to you Lee?” He laughs lowly at your clap back, “Relax princess it was a joke, no need to get defensive,” he moves closer to you now practically in your face. You can feel his breath on your skin. Wasting no time he presses his lips to yours in a slow passionate kiss, and you waste no time kissing him back slipping your tongue in his mouth to dance with his.
One of his hands is on your waist and the other is playing with the hem of your shirt. He breaks the kiss to get your shirt off giving him a view of your lacy white bra with a pink bow, “This is quite cute, it suits you baby,” he then takes your hand and drags you to his bedroom. 
Waking up after some hardcore sex is not for the weak at all. You wake up in his bed but he’s not next to you. You sit silently waiting to possibly hear any noise but you don’t hear any. He must’ve left.. 
You get up from his bed feeling a slight sting between your legs. God.. Did you two really fuck THAT hard? You remember it but didn’t think you were going at it that hard. Is it possible you were so loud the neighboring rooms heard? God you hope not, 
You grab your things getting ready to leave his dorm before making exit, Heeseung nowhere to be found. You leave the dorm building, not having to sneak this time since it's daytime. Arriving at your own dorm building and your own dorm you put on fresh clothes. After brushing your hair and doing your makeup you grab your backpack and laptop to get ready for your class in 20 minutes. You head out of your dorm and walk to class, fortunately, you liked this class because of the research paper you were doing currently. You had to do a paper and a presentation on a marine animal of your choice, obviously, you chose seals. The only good part was the paper, you hate presentations, you get so anxious but that’s a problem for another day. You don't have to worry about that currently. 
It’s now lunchtime, and still no word from Heeseung. You see him sitting with his friends in the cafeteria and decide to go and talk to him. After walking over all seven of them look at you curiously wondering why you’re there.They know you have some sort of connection with Heeseung but they didn’t know to what extent it went. “Hee, why didn’t you wait for me to wake up? And why haven’t you texted me?”
“What’re you talking about Y/N? Why would I text you, I’d only text you if I need something. You didn’t spend the night last night what’re you even on about Y/N?”
His words shock you, is he denying last night? Is he denying the fact he knew you in any way but a friend? You don't have the energy to deal with it right now. “Oh.. right, I guess I just got mixed up or something. You look down in defeat, unable to even look him in the eyes before walking away. Suddenly, you don’t feel hungry anymore having lost your appetite. 
Even worse, is that today it wasn’t your day to feed the animals in the aquarium. You avoid your friends for the rest of the day deciding to just go to the library to do some classwork and study. You’re there until you have to go to your next class.
After finishing your classes for the day you start to head back to your dorm 
Building until you see Heeseung with Winter. Seriously? Wasn’t he just all over Wonyoung? Then you, then Wony again, and now Winter? He was being pretty touchy feely with her, and whispering into her ear while she giggles. You feel sick to your stomach and rush back to your dorm. 
After entering your dorm you put your stuff down and change into comfy clothes, shorts, and a tank top. Before you can lie down your phone lights up with a text message. 
From: Heeseung !
| come over y/n
| pls
Does he have no shame at all? You had thought for a moment to yourself. You had thought that maybe he wanted to talk about the stunt he pulled earlier. Maybe he wanted to apologize. 
You get to his dorm and he opens the door. He smirks slightly when he sees your outfit and opens the door wider to let you in. You walk in and head for his couch. You don’t even bother to ask where Jay is. Heeseung sits next to you on the couch and swings his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. You two cuddled on the couch for hours before it escalated to making out and sex. 
This routine went on for multiple nights for months. You’d have sex, or cuddle all night, sometimes both, you’d share tender and soft kisses as if you were both a couple. Then the very next morning you’d see him all over another girl, he’d pretend he didn’t know you in front of his friends, but be all lovey dovey in private. You were so fed up with it, but the pull Heeseung had on you was irresistible. 
He’d push you away;
Just to pull you back in. 
Every morning after you two had cuddled all night or had sex he never stayed, you'd always wake up to an empty bed just to leave and find him all over another girl. The girls usually changed all the time, but one remained constant. You. Even when he noticed you watching he wouldn't back away from the girls. He’d ignore you and your texts all day, would pretend you were nothing but acquaintances but at night he’d treat you like you were the sun to his moon and occasionally even took you to fancy restaurants. 
In fact now that you thought about it, he did say he'd text you if he needed something from you. Clearly he just “needed” to have sex with you. You’d also noticed how you two actually barely knew each other, the most you could recite was surface level things about each other like his favorite color, or movie and he knew about you and Bubbles and you even showed him pictures of you with Bubbles,. Most importantly, neither of you ever confessed feelings, you had just assumed this was exclusive with a side of fan-service? 
Tonight you two are cuddled on his couch, at this point you'd become a mast at sneaking past the campus security. While you're both cuddling on the couch Heeseung is watching tiktok's and you're watching his screen as well. He occasionally would place kisses on your forehead, the top of your head, your lips, your cheek or your hand. 
The longer you two sit here cuddling, his arm around you, the more your mind starts to wander to everything that's happened with Heeseung recently. You finally decided to ask him a serious question.
“Heeseung, what are we?”
He freezes for a moment seemingly surprised by your question, but it also looks like he had almost expected you to ask this at some point. 
“We? Y/N, you're one of my best friends of course,” he didn't even really seem to bat an eye at his hurtful response. Your heart drops to your stomach at this answer, it’s clearly not what you wanted. Your eyes start to gloss over but he doesn't notice it, you manage to keep your voice steady, “That's it? Don't you think we're more?”
“Why would you think that?” 
What's his problem? Is he serious? Surely it's a cruel cruel prank right?
“Heeseung you treat me like I’m your girlfriend already, are you leading me on? Toying with me?” You can't stop the tears from flowing now, and your voice raises slightly as you clap back. “No, it's just all in good fun. it's not my fault you took it the wrong way.”
You couldn't even fight back anymore. You just got up, grabbed your things and left with tears in your eyes. Were you a fool? Did you really interpret his actions wrong? Is this your fault? Or his? There were so many questions going through your head, you knew Heeseung was in the wrong, but why was your brain telling you otherwise? 
Upon arriving back to your own dorm quietly you see Natty sleeping in her bed, and you quietly go to your bed and climb in it to go to bed. Your tears eventually subsided as you couldn't cry anymore, you were too tired. You close your eyes before finally drifting off to sleep. 
The next morning you wake up in your bed with sore eyes. It was a Saturday so you didn't have any classes today luckily. You get dressed, and grab your phone to head to the café with your friends. You walk across campus to the café seeing your friends at a table and you sit down. “Hey, Y/N what's wrong? You look like a wreck,” Julie was always concerned about you she could always tell when something was up. “It’s nothing Julie don't worry about it, okay?” You really weren't looking forward to having to explain everything but you knew your friends wouldn't back down.
“No, tell us, there's clearly something wrong,” in that moment you wished Karina wasn't good at reading people. Somehow all your friends could read you like an open book. “Fine.. I’ll tell you,” you explained the whole situation with Heeseung to them and tell them what happened last night. You hadn’t been talking to them because they were all really busy so they had no idea about any of this. “Y/N.. I’m so sorry that happened to you.. I thought you knew he wasn't a good person though?” Je nnie's question makes you think for a few moments trying to come up with a response. The truth is that you did know he was a player and not a good person, but the fact he could hold a relationship when he was in one was what influenced your decisions to get closer to him.
“I know but, I don't know, I thought it'd be different. He was so sweet to me, and you know whenever he gets a girlfriend he’s the sweetest to her and he's loyal.”
“Y/N you can’t just base your trust off of that alone. He’s known for flirting with a new girl everyday. He never even told you he liked you Y/N,” Jennie's disappointment was clear. She knew it wasn't fully your fault, and Heeseung is a dick but you still fell for his tricks. 
“You're right:. I’m an idiot, but I can't let him go. I really like him, should I just talk to him?” You were optimistic that there was something between the two of you even though the others believe he made it clear that there was nothing., “That’s up to you Y/N, but we don’t know if the outcome will be the one you want,” Julie chimed in, and that's all it took for you to get up and go look for him. 
After walking around campus for a bit you found him with his friends at the basketball court. You hesitate for a moment before walking over to them almost getting hit with a ball in the process. His friend Jake notices and goes over to Heeseung to talk to him.
“Yo Heeseung, Y/N is walking over here.” Heeseung immediately looks over to see that you are, indeed, walking over to them. He starts to smirk as he remembers what happened between the two of you last night. He walks away from his friends and starts approaching you, meeting you halfway now face to face with you. He doesn't say anything waiting for you to speak first. “Heeseung we should talk,” He nods and walks over to a tree that's near the basketball court but where nobody passersby could hear you two. 
“Look, I really don't appreciate what you’ve been doing to me, Heeseung. I feel like you've been toying with me, I feel like you've been just using me for sex. You treat me so well in private but ignore me in public. I really have feelings for you Hee. I’m an idiot for thinking we had something, I knew about the rumors yet I still would sneak into your dorm whenever you asked me to. I really like you, and it's okay if you don't feel the same, I know you don't actually,” You pour your heart out to him expressing every thought and feeling you've felt over these few months that you two have been in this ‘friends with benefits’ type dynamic. 
You hear him let out a sigh before he cups your face with his hands making you look up at him. “Y/N. Look.. I’m really sorry. Yesterday a lot of shit went down and I got drunk and took my anger out on you when you asked that ‘what are we’ question. The details aren’t important but I’m really sorry. I really like you too, I’m just not used to feeling this way. I know I've had previous girlfriends but those were from high school, I was different back then. Please forgive me Y/N,” this response was probably the last one you were expecting. Had Heeseung really revealed his feelings to you, and he reciprocated?
This is like a complete 180 to what he was like before. Is this really the same Heeseung from last night? Did he really like you? “Do you really?” You were in disbelief almost at his words. “Yes Y/N. I’m really sorry. I really like you. I’m not good with my feelings ever since college,” you really didn’t expect him to actually have feelings for you. “I forgive you Heeseung,” the words slipped from your mouth before you could even think about it. “You do?” He wasn’t expecting you to forgive him that easily. 
“I thought I didn’t want a girlfriend after my high school girlfriends fucked me over which is why I slept around so much, but when I met you that all changed. It’s been a while since I had felt this way and I didn’t know how to express it. Y/N. I really want you to be mine.. Please?” You nod immediately and he wraps his arms around you to pull you into a hug, and you hug him back. 
After a minute he pulls back and kisses you passionately. The kiss is full of emotion, and feelings. Just as the kiss starts to become heated you both start to hear cheers coming from the basketball court. Heeseung pulls away and looks over, he had completely forgotten that although they couldn't hear you, they could still see. They had just watched the tender moment and are now cheering about it. You’re a little embarrassed at first but then you laugh a little. 
Heeseung takes your hand and takes you back over to the basketball court where his friends are. 
“So..” Heeseung starts, “Obviously you know this is Y/N, but now she's also…” he hesitates for a moment, the words seeming foreign on his tongue.
“My girlfriend.” His words felt so good to hear, finally ending his game of push and pull.
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