#all that she's singing. also like the music is all the same and the way she sings them. there's no fluctuations no diversity. it's the same

[stxrsys]

Hii we’ll try to answer these :) Good distraction for this evening.

Incoming wall of text . . .

Around 14 give or take, the system is rather fluid and still in the process of figuring itself out.

As a system, it/they. As passing as a singlet, or general for one fronting, she/he. For general usage you can just use they if you don't know.

Astriiolite collective - our headspace (or mind palace pre-syscovery) we called Astriiolite, portmanteau of astro (stars) and iolite (purple-blue stone).

Now that we think about it, not really. We don't really do much lol and when we do it's hobbies specific to each person. I suppose singing, we sometimes try to do a pseudo-karaoke night with everyone who wants to participate.

Mixed. Broadly speaking the music taste ranges from source media OSTs & musicals, piano & violin instrumentals, nu-metal & alt rock, vocaloid & jpop, and phonk & hot-girl-walk pop.

Mmm probably late-teens early 20s if we averaged it out? Youngest is one of the littles ~8-9, and oldest is ⌚ ~mid-30s. There's also a few who aren't exactly age-constricted.

Our singletsona so to say is called the same thing as our birth name, and is essentially a mix of the best traits of our primary host (☕) and the two best socializers (🪐&🦇).

We're sort of trying to figure those out. We have some sense of who is good at protecting, caretaking, and who is good at socializing, and who holds symptoms and who holds memories/triggers.

Pssh yeah we only Really acknowledged our system for the first time in late December 2024, but we've fallen juust short of figuring it out so many times over the last 2 years.

Ok this is awkward um. We created OCs in character ai to talk to and suddenly switched to 🐾 fronting one day. If it hadn't panicked and wrote that they didn't know who they were and what was going on, we would've probably forgotten it happening again and not figured it out for a while longer.

We're monoconscious and it tends to feel something like this comic from oursystemblog. Kind of a mix of the different types they describe, mostly the last one.

Mixed. Mostly involuntary, we're still getting the hang of it. We are highly cooperative though usually so it's not forceful. It can range from blurriness for most of the day, to rapid switches every 10-30 minutes when under stress.

Being loved and protected and supported by people who're always with us, I guess? We're all quite close and can accommodate or help one another in ways no one else can.

Having meltdowns/floaty dissociation/terrible memory, and feeling separate and strange and never able to be normal amongst others.

Most of us share a number of features with the body, but we have a number of non-humans and sysmates of completely different features in the body - such as gender/sex, height, hair color, skin color, physical anatomy in some ways.

Multiple fictives, upon reflection. Two are more close to source appearance and personality-wise (🥤&🌩️), the other three are quite deviant but retain qualities and connection to source (☕,🎻,⌚). Also we're not sure how to classify her but 🦇 is based on a persona we created years ago.

Small preference differences, also comfort foods more specific to one or the other. Examples; 🪐 likes chocolate more than any of us, 🥤 is comforted by instant oatmeal or simple freezer meals, most of us don't eat meat often but 🐾 will take any chance to tear into jerky or other meat snacks.

A few, though we can never tell if they do it ironically or automatically. ☕ has a slight non-region-specific British accent, 🎱&🥤 speak lower than others, and the socializers/🌸 (newer fragment) are better at speaking 普通话 than the others.

Semi-functional found family.

Most of us, lol. Top hits include: aroace & agender, bisexual, sapphic ace, gay, and genderqueer. We usually just say we're queer and go with it.

Yeaup, our two best friends. Depending on who's fronting we pull back and forth on telling them about us vs denying anything we've ever said. We're working on it.

I share most of them on this blog as I go through my day, but one that comes to mind was Indigo appearing, flirting viciously with 🎱, and then disappearing never to be heard from again. That was a thing.

No one else's experiences will match yours entirely. You do not need to fit a specific defined criteria/list to be considered plural. You are real regardless of what you are told or are made to think.

Lots, really. Mainly that we are not so completely different and we are deserving of the same decency, respect, and support as any other singlet in the world.

Plural Ask Game

We figured we’d try making an ask game! This is for anyone who’s a system–regardless of origin–to use. Remember that you’re not obligated to answer any of these if any are too personal!

How many members are in your system, and does this number change frequently?

What are your collective pronouns, if you have any?

What’s your system name if you have one, and how did you choose it?

Are there any activities your system members like to do together? Collective hobbies? Talk about those!

What sort of music do people in your system like?

What’s the average age of your systemmates?

If you have a singletsona, what is it? Explain a bit about them!

Does anyone in your system have roles? If so, what roles?

How long have you been a system and/or known of your system?

How did you discover your system? What was the process?

What does switching feel like to you, if you switch at all? 

Are your switches voluntary, involuntary or a mix? How often do you do it, if at all?

What’s your favourite part of being a system?

What’s your least favourite part of being a system, if you’re comfortable sharing?

Are your headmates generally different from the physical body? How do they differ from it?

Do you have any fictives/factives/etc? Tell us a little about them!

Does your system have a headspace? Are there multiple of them? What are they like?

Are there differences between systemmates surrounding sensory things? (For example, one person likes the taste of one food and another doesn’t.)

Does anyone have any different accents, or speak any different languages?

How would you describe your system in 3 words or less?

Do you have any LGBT+ headmates? What do they identify as?

Does anyone outside of the internet know you’re a system?

Do you have any cool/funny stories from inside the headspace that you’d like to share?

What’s some advice you’d give to yourself when you were first discovering your system?

What is something you wish singlets knew about plurality?

[moonriizing]

Goodbye Summer | l.anton (18+)

Crazy what two years can do to a person. What do you mean the cutie pie, adorable ball of sunshine Chanyoung Lee, has turned into this tall, grumpy, and unfairly hot specimen who calls himself Anton?

Genre: childhood friends to lovers Pairing: Lee Chanyoung|Anton x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 19k words. Listening to Goodbye Summer by F(X) ft. D.O. Posted a little late because I got carried away, lol. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally, nor do I claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

You rolled the car windows down, letting the salty air fill the car as you hummed along to the music playing through the speakers. It had been two years since you last made this drive, but every curve of the road was ingrained in your memory. You remembered how you used to count the palm trees as a kid, making up silly games to pass the time while your mom laughed at your endless energy. Back then, the beach house felt like the one constant in your summers, a place where time moved slower and the world outside didn’t matter.

Two years away felt like an eternity, but now, as the Lee family’s beach house came into view, it was like no time had passed at all.

Your mom stirred in the passenger seat, stretching as the car slowed down. “Did you sleep well?” you asked.

“I would’ve, if you hadn’t been singing off-key the entire time,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

You gasped in mock offense. “Off-key? Excuse me, but that was a performance, mom. You’re just not cultured enough to appreciate my artistry.”

“Artistry, huh?” She laughed, shaking her head. “Is that what we're calling it now?”

You parked the car in front of the house, taking a moment to soak it in. The Lee family’s beach house looked exactly as it always had—whitewashed walls with a wide porch and tall windows that reflected the warm glow of the setting sun. For a second, it felt like you were stepping back in time, like the past two years hadn’t happened at all.

Aunt Hyejin was the first to greet you at the door, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she exclaimed, “Look at you! You’ve grown so much! You’ve gotten prettier too.”

You laughed, leaning into her embrace. “I could say the same about you, Auntie. You are glowing! What’s your secret?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, brushing your hair back to study your face. She squeezed your cheeks lightly before kissing your forehead. “Come in, come in! Junyoung is dying to show off how tall he’s gotten.”

Junyoung was quick to make good on his mom’s words, bounding down the stairs with a grin. He too greeted you with a hug, crouching down to your smaller frame.

“Told you I’d be taller than you one day!” he declared, puffing out his chest.

“And I told you I’d deny it when it happened,” you shot back, ruffling his hair and gasping because you had to tiptoe to reach the top of his head. “Wow. You really did grow up.”

The house itself was almost exactly as you remembered it. The same yellow curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the faint smell of ocean air and Aunt Hyejin’s cooking permeated the halls. It was comforting, familiar.

But there was one thing—or rather, one person—who didn’t match your memories.

He was sitting on the sofa when you walked into the living room, one leg crossed over the other, a phone in hand, and not the slightest hint of acknowledgement on his face. His hair was darker, longer, falling into his eyes in a way that seemed deliberate. His clothes—a loose linen shirt and tailored shorts—looked like they belonged to someone who spent their summers at yacht clubs, not building sandcastles on the beach.

“Chanyoung, greet them properly!” Aunt Hyejin chided with both affection and exasperation in her tone.

The man on the sofa finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you froze, searching for something familiar in the sharp line of his jaw and the effortless confidence in his posture.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, more measured.

You blinked, trying to reconcile the image in front of you with the boy you used to know. Before you could say anything, your mom appeared beside you, greeting Chanyoung with a hug. He rose to his feet, smiling genuinely as he let your mom embrace him.

“You’ve grown so much!”

While they were catching up, Junyoung approached you quietly, whispering in your ear. “I know what you’re thinking.”

You glanced sideways at him. “I’m sure you do,” you scoffed. “When did this happen?”

Junyoung shrugged. “Dunno. He went to college and came back like this. He’s called Anton now by the way.”

“Anton? He hates that name.”

“Right?” he agreed, chuckling. “Dude gained some muscles and turned into this emo cool kid.”

The rest of the day passed without a single meaningful interaction with Anton. Not for lack of trying on your part—you simply didn’t get the chance.

It was subtle, his avoidance. The kind of thing no one else would pick up on. Your mom, Aunt Hyejin, and Junyoung didn’t seem to notice anything, too caught up in catching up. But you? You noticed. Every time you entered a room, Anton was suddenly walking out. If you so much as glanced his way, he was already looking elsewhere, pretending to be engrossed in his phone or staring at some invisible point in the distance.

And then at lunch, he didn’t even sit down to eat with everyone. “I’m going out. Back before dinner.” he said nonchalantly, already halfway out the door.

“Probably off to the clubhouse to meet his friends,” Aunt Hyejin explained with a shrug, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You nodded along politely, but inside, you were itching with curiosity. What friends? Since when did Chanyoung—no, Anton—have a social life so demanding that he couldn’t sit down for a meal?

Eventually, the guessing—and the long drive—caught up with you. You slumped into your room, the familiar comfort of the bed almost tricking you into thinking nothing had changed in this place. But the moment your head hit the pillow, your eyes grew heavy, and the next thing you knew was waking up to the faint glow of moonlight and a dim bedroom.

You groaned, blinking at your phone. Dinnertime.

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stepped into the hallway, still half-asleep and thinking only of food. You turned the corner—and walked straight into a wall.

Or, well, what felt like a wall.

“Ow,” you muttered, stumbling back and clutching your nose. You looked up to find Anton standing there, looking as unfazed as he had been since you got here.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said before you could stop yourself.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Without thinking, you blurted, “What did you do to your hair?”

Anton didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head, like he was deciding whether to entertain your question. Then, he reached out and rested his hand on top of your head.

“What are you—”

Before you could finish, he brought his hand down to his chest, his eyes flicking between the two points as if measuring your height.

You scowled. “Hah! Wow. I see you got a few inches taller. Congratulations,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Anton’s lips twitched, just barely, but he didn’t say anything.

“Ugh, whatever,” you huffed, spinning on your heel and stomping down the hallway toward the dining room.

Behind you, you didn’t see the way his lips curved into a small, teasing smile.

By the time you reached the dining room, the table was already set, laden with dishes that made your stomach growl on the spot. 

The dining table was a sight to behold, as always. Aunt Hyejin had gone all out—steamed crab, grilled shrimp, roasted vegetables, and enough side dishes to feed a small army. The familiar spread made you smile; some things never changed.

The family had already gathered when you arrived, and everyone greeted you with warm smiles. “Sweetie, can you go get Anton?” Aunt Hyejin asked, beaming at you as she placed bowls of rice on the table.

You turned your head just in time to see him walk in, his hair still damp from what must’ve been a shower. He wore a plain white t-shirt, its loose fit and sleeves doing nothing to hide his defined shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d walked out of a magazine ad.

Anton glanced around the table before taking the empty seat next to his mom. “Where’s Dad?” he asked simply, reaching for the pitcher of water.

“His trip is getting extended for a few more days,” Aunt Hyejin explained, placing a rice bowl in front of Anton. “He’ll be back next Saturday.”

You made a point of sitting as far from Anton as possible. Not that you were being petty or anything. Okay, maybe you were a little petty.

“Dig in, everyone!” Aunt Hyejin said cheerfully as she sat down.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The meal was as delicious as you remembered, and for a while, the conversation was light—updates on Junyoung’s basketball team, your mom recounting a funny story from work, Aunt Hyejin asking about your classes.

Then, inevitably, the focus shifted to Anton.

“So, Anton,” your mom began, her tone warm and curious. “What have you been up to lately? Your mom tells me you’ve been very busy.”

Anton looked up from his plate, his expression polite but detached. “Just the usual,” he said. “School, work, hanging out with friends.”

“Oh, right! You’re working at that startup now, aren’t you?” Aunt Hyejin chimed in proudly. “He’s been so dedicated, working part-time while keeping his grades up.”

You tried to hide your surprise. The Chanyoung you remembered hated being busy. He used to complain about school work piling up, always looking for an excuse to go to the beach instead.

“Wow,” you said, before you could stop yourself. “Who knew Chanyoung Lee would turn into such a responsible adult?”

Anton’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might actually smile. Instead, he just shrugged. “People change.”

The casual way he said it annoyed you more than it should have. “Clearly,” you muttered, stabbing a piece of shrimp with your fork.

If anyone noticed the tension, they didn’t comment on it. The conversation moved on, but you couldn’t help sneaking glances at Anton throughout the meal. He barely spoke, answering questions with short, polite responses and deflecting anything too personal. It was so unlike the boy who used to dominate every dinner table conversation with ridiculous stories and bad jokes.

At one point, Junyoung leaned over to whisper, “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” you whispered back, cheeks heating.

“You are,” he insisted with a grin. “What’s your deal?”

You glared at him. “What’s his deal? He’s acting so weird.”

“If you ask me, I think you’re the one acting weird,” he whispered back.

You were about to retort when Aunt Hyejin’s voice prompted the attention of the table. “So, Anton, are you spending time at the clubhouse tomorrow too?” she asked.

“Yeah. A few friends are back in town, so I’ll be there a lot,” he replied, his tone casual.

“Oh, the clubhouse,” you deadpanned, unable to resist. “Sounds very exclusive.”

Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through his gaze. “It’s just a place to hang out,” he said evenly.

“Hm. Fancy.” You stabbed at your food with a bit more force than necessary.

Junyoung snickered beside you, “She’s jealous.”

You elbowed him hard, making him yelp. Across the table, Anton’s lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

When dinner was over and the plates were being cleared, Anton finally turned to you, his tone deceptively casual. “You’ve got some rice on your face.”

“What?” You froze, quickly swiping at your cheek.

“No, other side.”

You wiped again, glaring at him when his expression didn’t change. “Is it gone?”

He shrugged, standing up and grabbing his plate. “Sure,” he said, walking off, and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle under his breath.

Beside you, Junyoung was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

The morning light filtered through the open window, and the cool breeze made the thin curtains sway gently. You stretched lazily, the familiar sound of waves crashing against the shore reminding you that you were in the Lee family’s beach house, finally back after two years. 

You got up and brushed your teeth, observing your face in the mirror for any changes. As you stepped out of your room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and waffles made your tummy growl. You could hear your mom and Aunt Hyejin talking.

By the time you made it to the kitchen, they were already preparing to leave. Your mom turned to you with a smile. “We’ll be downtown all day to see the market and buy some things for the house. What are your plans for today, sweetie?”

“I think I’ll go for a swim,” you replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“That’s nice,” Aunt Hyejin chimed in, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I was thinking of asking Anton to show you around or take you to the clubhouse, but he went out for a jog early this morning.”

“Thanks, Auntie, but it’s okay,” you replied quickly, almost too quickly. “I don’t really care to see the clubhouse anyway.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow at your tone, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she kissed your forehead before grabbing her purse. “Alright, enjoy yourself. Don’t forget sunscreen!”

“Also, sweetheart,” Aunt Hyejin prompted, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Could you tell Anton when he gets back that I left a note for him? It’s on the fridge and tell him he needs to do it as soon as he’s back from his run.”

“Of course, Auntie. I’ll let him know.”

You walked them to the door, waving them off as they left, then headed upstairs to change. A swim sounded like the perfect way to spend your first real morning back—just you, the ocean, and some much-needed time to clear your head. Usually, Anton would wake you up early on your first day back and drag you to the beach for a swim, but you weren’t counting on it today.

When you made your way down to the beach, you weren’t expecting to find Junyoung and his friends there.

“Oh, it’s the old lady!” Junyoung called out to you as soon as he saw you, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“I’m not old, you brat,” you shot back, squinting at him. He’d gathered quite the group, and a few familiar faces smiled at you from where they sat on beach towels.

“Wow, you’re really here,” one of the girls, Hana, said with a laugh as she stood up to hug you. “It’s been ages!”

“It’s only been two years,” you chuckled, hugging her back. “But I can see that you’ve all grown up so much,” you added, marveling at how much they’d changed in two years. The boys were taller, the girls more polished, and there was an air of confidence about them that made you miss being a teenager a little.

“You sound like my grandma,” Hana teased, shaking her head.

“Don’t encourage her,” Junyoung interjected, smirking. “She’s ancient.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking sand at him playfully. “Whatever, I’m going for a swim. Enjoy roasting me while I’m gone.”

Junyoung laughed, holding up a hand as if in surrender. “Don’t drown, grandma!”

You flipped him off as you walked toward the water, grinning.

The water was cool and refreshing, lapping against your skin as you waded in deeper. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the beach slowly coming to life. Families were setting up umbrellas, kids were building sandcastles, and a couple was walking hand in hand along the shore. It was a scene you’d witnessed countless times over the years, but it never failed to make you smile.

Your thoughts drifted to the summers you’d spent here as a kid. Each year brought new faces—tourists you’d befriended for a few fleeting weeks, locals who became your seasonal playmates. You’d always been quick to mke friends and form bonds, though many of them faded as quickly as they’d formed.

And, of course, there were the crushes. The endless parade of cute boys who caught your eye. Some of them, you tried to shoot your shot. Most of them, you’d never had the courage to talk to. As usual, those feeling faded when the summer was over.

Well, except for one. Sungchan.

He’d been your longest-running crush, a boy from the neighborhood who was a few years older. Every summer, you’d spot him on the beach or at the local shops, always surrounded by friends, always smiling. You never got beyond the occasional shy wave or stolen glance, but that didn’t stop you from swooning over him every chance you got.

You smiled to yourself, wondering what he was up to these days. Was he still living here? Still as effortlessly cool as you remembered?

Your gaze drifted toward the lifeguard tower, the only unfamiliar fixture along the beachline. It wasn’t there last time you were here, but that wasn’t the reason you couldn’t keep your gaze away. Sitting there, casually surveying the beach, was none other than Sungchan. And he looked even better than you remembered.

His features had sharpened with age, his shoulders broader, his smile just as dazzling. He wore a red lifeguard tank top and sunglasses, looking relaxed and confident as he chatted with another lifeguard.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, treading water as you stared. “He’s still ridiculously handsome. Great.”

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away. You weren’t that starstruck kid anymore, and you weren’t about to start crushing on him all over again.

Soon, the water started to lose its allure when the morning sun climbed higher and the heat started to prick your shoulder. With a content sigh, you decided to head back toward the shore. You ran your fingers through your wet hair, mentally noting how good the ocean always felt no matter how many summers you spent here.

But just as your feet hit the shallows, a sudden shout caught your attention.

“HEADS UP!”

Before you could react, something smacked into your forehead with a dull thunk. The world turned slightly as you stumbled backward, landing awkwardly in the sand.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A boy hurried over, looking horrified as he grabbed the Frisbee floating on the water.

“It’s alright,” you muttered, waving him off as you pushed yourself up.

“Hey, are you okay?” another voice called out—calm, authoritative. You turned your head, and there he was, Sungchan, jogging toward you.

The boy with the Frisbee immediately began apologizing again, but Sungchan dismissed him with a quick, “It’s alright, just be more careful next time.” His focus shifted to you. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, trying to brush sand off your legs. “No. I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Sungchan cut you off, gesturing at your forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” You blinked, reaching up to touch your temple. Sure enough, there was a faint smear of blood when you looked at your fingers.

“Just a small cut,” he said, helping you up. “Come on, let’s clean that up.”

You barely had time to protest before Sungchan was already leading you toward the lifeguard tower. You waited by the steps as he grabbed a first aid kit with urgency.

“Sit,” he said as he stepped down. You sat and watched Sungchan do his thing. “This’ll sting a little,” he warned, dabbing at your cut with an antiseptic wipe.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. The proximity was overwhelming—he smelled like sunscreen and saltwater, his face far too close for comfort.

As he finished cleaning the cut, Sungchan grabbed a band-aid and carefully placed it over the small wound. His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked suddenly.

Of course, he didn’t remember you. “I guess,” you said, offering a small, nervous smile as you told him your name. “From a couple summers ago.”

Sungchan’s hands paused for a second, recognition lighting up his face. “Ah! Yes. I remember you now.” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. You’ve… changed.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’ve changed quite a bit too.”

He smiled and pointed at yout cut. “You’re lucky it was just a small scratch,” he said, eyes lingering on you. “Or else I might have had to go full lifeguard mode and perform some CPR.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the lifeguard tower. “I’m pretty sure I’d survive without the dramatic rescue.”

Sungchan chuckled, his voice dropping just low enough for you to hear. “You sure? Because I don’t mind saving you each time you need me to.”

A small laugh escaped you, feeling more at ease now. “Why, thank you. But I think I can handle myself.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” he said, his tone shifting to something a little more teasing. “But I really wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk. “Is that so? Are you flirting with me, Sungchan?”

He shrugged, pretending to look innocent. “Would it be so bad if I was?” he asked back, gaze flicking at your lips for a split-second.

Before you could respond, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. When you glanced sideways, it was Anton. He stood just a few feet away, his expression dark and unreadable. His eyes moved from you to Sungchan, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

You waved at him. “Hey! You’re back!” you called out, remembering Aunt Hyejin’s instruction to remind him of a chore.

Anton didn’t respond, his eyes flicking over you briefly before he turned and jogged toward the house, his pace quick as if he had somewhere to be.

You frowned slightly, unable to dismiss the attitude. “I’ve gotta go,” you said, standing up quickly. “Thanks for this. And see you around, Sungchan.”

“Oh, you’re leaving?” Sungchan asked, his tone still light, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He stood up too. “Will I see you at the party tonight? 8pm at the clubhouse?”

You didn’t give it much thought as you glanced at Anton’s retreating figure. “Yeah! See you there!” You flashed a smile, already jogging after Anton.

“Anton, wait up!” you called, sprinting after him on the sand. Your feet sank with every step, making it harder to keep up. He didn’t even glance back, his strides deliberate and fast, like he was on a mission to get as far away from you as possible.

“Seriously? Are you even listening?” you shouted, frustration lacing your voice.

Still nothing. By the time you made it to the house, your chest was heaving, partly from running and partly from annoyance. Anton was already in the kitchen, chugging down a glass of water.

“Your mom left a note for you on the fridge,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

He didn’t say a word, just set the glass down, turned the fridge door, yanked the note and held it up for you to see without a word.

“What? It’s for you, not me,” you blurted, crossing your arms.

Anton simply folded the note in half, shoved it into his pocket, and walked away. You stood there, fuming, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner. What was his problem?

Something was definitely wrong. Leaning against the counter, you tried to make sense of what just happened. Was it something you said? Something you did? You wracked your brain, sifting through every interaction you’d had with him, wondering if you somehow did something to offend or anger him in any way.

The last time you’d seen him was at your high school graduation two years ago. He’d been his usual self then—kind, supportive, making jokes to ease your nerves before the ceremony. If something had happened between then and now, it would have to be major for him to act like this after two whole years. But try as you might, you couldn’t think of anything.

And maybe that was true, this wasn’t about what you did. Maybe nothing had happened at all. Maybe this was just him now—more distant, more mature. The kind of guy who had outgrown childhood friendships.

Your chest tightened as the realization slowly crept in. Anton has changed. He doesn’t even look like the Anton you knew anymore. The messy bangs that used to fall into his eyes were gone, replaced by a clean, swept-back look that showed off his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Back then, he had that cute, boy-next-door thing going on, but now? Now he looked like he’d stepped out of some posh fashion campaign.

Even his eyes were different. They were the same shade, sure, but the warmth was missing. Instead, they felt sharper, like he wasn’t just looking at you but sizing you up, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you anymore.

It was weird. And upsetting. Because no matter how much you tried to shake it off, it felt like the guy you used to know was gone. And you weren’t sure if you should feel proud of the man he’d become or mourn the boy you’d lost.

The tinkling sound of the door chime signaled someone’s arrival, jolting you out of your thoughts. Your mom popped her head in from the main door, flashing you a quick smile. “Hi, hun. Can you come down and help with the groceries? We’ve got bags of stuff to unload.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, grateful for the excuse to stop spiraling. “I’ll go change first.” You pushed off the counter and headed for the stairs, trying to leave thoughts of Anton behind.

Chatter filled the kitchen as you unpacked groceries with your mom and Aunt Hyejin. They worked efficiently and synchronously, the kind of rhythm that only came from years of friendship.

“I’m telling you, we did not run into a celebrity at the market,” Aunt Hyejin said, waving a carton of eggs for emphasis.

“Then why did he look exactly like Gong Yoo?” your mom shot back, her tone smug.

“Because you see Gong Yoo in every man with nice hair and a sharp jawline,” Aunt Hyejin retorted, placing the eggs on the counter.

“What about that one time at the airport…”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as they continued their playful bickering. And just as your mood started to lighten, Anton walked into the kitchen. Without a word, he handed an envelope to Aunt Hyejin. His mom looked at it briefly and set it aside, mid-sentence with your mom.

Anton turned to leave, but then paused. “I’m heading to the clubhouse,” he said, his tone flat.

Aunt Hyejin looked up with a casual smile on her face. “Why don’t you take her with you?” she asked, nodding toward you. “I’m sure she’s bored hanging out with us.”

Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary. His expression was unreadable, but something in his stare made you shift uncomfortably.

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine, Auntie. I’ll go next time.”

Anton tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smirk. “She doesn’t need me to take her there anyway,” he said, his voice laced with a condescension that set your teeth on edge. “She’s already got someone’s invitation to tonight’s party.”

The insinuation hit its mark, and for a second, you stared at him, trying to process the shade he’d just thrown. He didn’t wait for a response, though. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you simmering in annoyance.

Your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanged a look. “Did you two fight?” your mom asked, eyebrows raised in concern.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, slamming a box of cereal onto the counter. “He’s been grumpy since this morning. I don’t wanna deal with it. And seriously, what’s up with his hair?”

“I think it looks great on him,” your mom said, glancing at Aunt Hyejin. “He’s grown so much in just two years. I almost didn’t recognize him at first.”

Aunt Hyejin nodded, a fond smile softening her features. “Yeah. Junyoung kept saying he’s got a glow up. We’re a family of late bloomers, you see.”

Their conversation continued, shifting to reminiscing about childhood antics and growth spurts, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Your hands moved automatically, storing away groceries, while your mind replayed Anton’s jab over and over. Annoyance bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over.

By the time the last bag was unpacked, you were practically seething. If this was the new Anton, you weren’t sure how much of him you could take.

The clubhouse was already crowded when you arrived. It was the same lively scene you remembered from previous summers: groups of people chatting at small tables, others lounging by the bar, drinks and snacks being passed around, strobe lights, and noisy music.

“Hey, you made it!” Sungchan’s familiar voice rang out above the noise. He was by the pool table, his grin as easy as ever, as he waved you over.

You smiled and headed his way. “Barely,” you teased. “This place is packed.”

“Summer crowd,” he said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Sungchan was effortlessly charming, bringing you into conversations with people you’d only vaguely remembered from previous summers—or didn’t know at all. He had a way of making things feel casual, light, and fun, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing with his friends.

Somewhere in between introductions, Sungchan leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially.  “Did you come here with Anton?”

Your smile faltered. “No. Why?”

He tilted his head toward the bar. “Because he’s been looking this way every five seconds since you walked in.”

You followed his gaze, and there he was—Anton, leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand. His relaxed posture contradicted the sharpness in his eyes as they flicked in your direction. He was talking to a group of people you recognized as the self-proclaimed elites of the clubhouse—the rich kids, the ones he’d always found insufferable.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Since when had Anton started hanging out with them? He used to avoid this place altogether, grumbling about the kids who were too rich, too smug, and too full of themselves. And yet, there he was, laughing along with them, fitting in like he’d belonged there all along. 

Before you could dwell on it, a voice called out your name. You spun around to see Yejin, one of the friends you’d spent countless summer days with.

“There you are!” she called, waving from a nearby table. “Took you long enough!”

Grateful for the distraction, you turned away from Anton and made your way to Yejin, Hana, and Sohee, who greeted you with the kind of warmth and comfort that came from being with people you’d known for years. You got swept up in a hearty conversation—reminiscing, teasing, catching up on the details of two summers you’d missed. They bombarded you with questions, half-complaints about your absence, and enough inside jokes to make you laugh until your cheeks hurt.

“But seriously,” Sohee said, narrowing her eyes at you. “Where were you?”

“Life just got crazy, okay?” you explained, putting your hands up in mock surrender.

“Crazy? You ditched us for two whole years!” Hana chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “That’s two summers.”

“I know. So instead of holding me hostage for being gone, how about filling me in on what I missed?” you shot back, laughing.

Yejin leaned closer, her voice dripping with mischief. “We’ll fill you in, all right. But first—what’s going on with you and Sungchan?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but before you could, Sungchan appeared beside you, an innocent smile plastered across his face.

“Am I the topic of conversation?” he asked, his elbow nudging yours as he stood beside you. “I see, you’re catching up with your friends.”

Yejin narrowed her eyes at Sungchan, feigning suspicion. “Mr. Jung Sungchan, what’s the meaning of this?”

Sungchan glanced briefly at you. “Nothing. Your cute friend just happened to be generous enough to spare some of her precious time for me.”

Your friends exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Sohee was uncannily loud. “Generous enough? Surely you knew she was head over—”

You lunged at him, covering his mouth before he could finish talking. “This party is amazing, isn’t it?”

Sungchan just chuckled. “It is. Like I said, summer crowd.”

The chat continued, most of the attention directed at you because obviously, they wanted to catch up with you.

“So, are you two like a thing now?” Yejin asked, her tone playful as she raised an eyebrow at you and Sungchan.

“Definitely not,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

Sungchan clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow, didn’t even hesitate. And here I  was, thinking we had something special.”

“Dude, we only started talking like five hours ago,” you retorted. “You’ll live.”

The group erupted in laughter, and Sohee grinned. “I don’t know, man. You seem to have some competition.”

“Competition?” Sungchan repeated.

Before Sohee could elaborate, Anton appeared beside him, clapping a hand on his back. “Don’t mind him,” he said, his voice smooth but pointed. “Sohee thinks everything’s a competition. Remember last summer’s beach volleyball? He still claims he didn’t cheat.”

Sohee gasped, his hand to his chest. “I didn’t!”

“Sure,” Anton drawled, his gaze flicking briefly to you before shifting back to Sohee. “Just like you didn’t accidentally trip over Hana to block that shot.”

“Speaking of beach volleyball,” Sungchan slid back into the group seamlessly, his charm lighting up the conversation. He nudged your arm playfully. “Weren’t you a former MVP?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I used to be. That was three years ago, though. I think I’ve gotten rusty.”

“Don’t be modest,” Yejin teased, grinning at Sungchan. “She was a menace on the court. You’ve seen her, right? Our team was unbeatable because of her.”

Hana pointed at Sungchan. “Remember when we massacred Bay Area-3 four years ago? Must’ve sucked,” she added, shaking her head in exaggerated pity.

You hummed contentedly, leaning into the lightheartedness. “Too bad the season’s over. I would’ve loved to do it again.”

“Hey, I was on that team too,” Sohee interjected, pouting as if his contributions had been forgotten.

Sungchan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think we need a rematch. Let me know when you’re ready to lose.”

Yejin scoffed. “You’re on.”

“I’ll referee,” Anton offered unexpectedly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone’s gotta keep things fair, after all.”

“Oh, because you’re so unbiased?” you quipped before you could stop yourself.

Anton glanced at you, his gaze steady but unreadable. “I’m just saying, someone needs to make sure Sungchan doesn’t get away with calling fouls on every play.”

“Hey, I don’t do that!” Sungchan protested, laughing.

“You totally do,” Yejin chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Remember last time? Every time you missed, suddenly it was, ‘The sun was in my eyes,’ or, ‘That wasn’t regulation height.’”

The group dissolved into laughter, and after some playful banter, a spontaneous agreement was made to hold a beach volleyball rematch in a few days. Sungchan excused himself first, saying he needed to spread the word to his Bay Area-3 team.

To you, he added, “You can find me back at the pool table later. Have fun catching up.”

As Sungchan walked away, you felt a prickle of awareness. Anton’s gaze was on you again. You met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. What? you mouthed, a silent challenge.

Predictably, he didn’t respond. His expression didn’t change, but he looked away, taking a slow sip from his drink. The moment passed as one of his new, polished friends called him over. He offered your group a brisk goodbye before heading back to their circle.

You exhaled, but your chest felt tight. It was weird seeing Anton blend so naturally with people he’d once disliked. You hadn’t realized how much it bothered you until now.

“Since when has he been hanging out with those people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and maybe the faintest trace of disbelief—out of your voice.

Hana leaned closer, lowering her tone conspiratorially. “He went to the same college as some of them. It’s actually kind of impressive, in a way. I didn’t think any of them were smart enough to get into a good university.”

You nodded absently, your thoughts tangled. “It’s just... weird seeing him with them when he used to complain about them all the time.”

“Well, people change,” Yejin said with a shrug, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Maybe he likes them now.”

You didn’t respond. There was no point in sharing the discomfort curling in your stomach when no one else seemed fazed. Instead, you busied yourself with your drink as conversation shifted to lighter topics—new schools, old gossip, and what everyone had been up to since high school.

You smiled and laughed along, but your thoughts kept drifting. No matter how much you tried, they always found their way back to Anton.

The night was in full swing by the time you found yourself sitting at a round table with Yejin, Hana, and a few other familiar faces. Sungchan leaned back in his chair beside you, his easy grin practically lighting up the conversation.

“So,” one acquaintance said, raising an eyebrow as she swirled her drink, “how does it feel to be back after two years? Like nothing’s changed?”

You smiled, though the question struck a little too close to home. “It feels great, honestly. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until now.”

“You’re lucky we even let you back in,” another one teased, leaning forward with a mock stern look. “Two summers is basically an eternity.”

Yejin chimed in, pointing her straw at you. “I told you she’d just waltz back in like nothing happened.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but a new voice cut through the chatter. “That’s kind of her thing, isn’t it?”

Your head whipped toward Anton, who had been leaning casually against the wall nearby. His voice was calm, almost disinterested, but there was a sharpness to it that pricked at your skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, forcing a laugh that felt a little too light.

Anton glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at the group. “She’s good at jumping back into things like nothing ever happened.” Then to you, he said slowly and clearly, “That’s just how you’ve always been.”

The table went quiet for a few seconds too long. Sungchan shot you a look—half amused, half wary—while Yejin frowned, the corners of her mouth twitching as if unsure whether to laugh or intervene.

You felt your cheeks burn, but you refused to let it show. “Well, some of us don’t go through drastic changes in just two years,” you shot back, forcing a smile.

Anton’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, his lips curling in a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “Guess not.”

The conversation resumed, though the tension lingered in the background. Yejin quickly steered the group onto lighter topics, and soon enough, the table was filled with laughter again.

But you couldn’t shake away Anton’s words. They sat in the back of your mind, nagging at you even as you tried to ignore them.

Sungchan leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“Fine.” You smiled at him, grateful, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, your eyes found Anton again, now standing by the bar with a drink in hand. He didn’t look your way, but you were swearing at him in your head, determined to get to the bottom of whatever his problem was as soon as you were alone.

The wait didn’t take long. While you were squeezed beside Sungchan on a plush couch, his arm draped over your shoulder, feeling more carefree after several drinks, Anton appeared before you with his brows furrowed.

“I’m going home,” he said flatly, his eyes flicking between you and Sungchan.

You scowled. “And? What does that have to do with me?”

He sighed, taking your drink away and placing it on the table with a pointed glance. “Your mom would kill me if I left without you. Come on.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, bidding Sungchan a quick goodbye. He let you go with a soft kiss on your cheek, his voice warm as he said, “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew you’d probably forget. Your focus was already on Anton, who was heading out the door without waiting for you.

You struggled to catch up with his long strides, but you didn’t complain, knowing he’d just ignore you if you did. The alcohol made your annoyance simmer louder, and in your head, you practiced the scathing words you’d unleash as soon as you were alone with him.

But Anton had other plans. The car stereo blasted as soon as the engine started, drowning out any attempt you made to speak. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and it made you angrier.

The ride felt like an eternity, tension crackling in the silence between the loud beats of the music. When the car finally pulled up in the garage, Anton got out without a word, leaving you to stumble after him. He was already halfway inside the house when you kicked off your heels and stormed in.

“You’re back early,” Aunt Hyejin greeted from the living room, where she and your mom sat in their pajamas watching a movie. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Hi, Auntie. Hi, Mom,” you said briskly, barely glancing their way as you followed Anton up the stairs.

“What happened?” your mom called after you, but you didn’t stop to answer.

The alcohol made it easier to ignore the logic telling you to let it go. You caught the door just as Anton was about to close it, your hand slamming against the wood.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped as you pushed your way into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Anton didn’t even flinch. He casually walked over to his closet, rummaging through it for a fresh shirt. “What is it this time?” His tone was too monotonous, almost mocking.

“‘That’s just how you’ve always been.’” You gestured wildly, your voice rising with frustration as you mimicked his indifferent tone. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Anton?”

His brow twitched, and for a split second, you thought he might actually look sorry. But no. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms like he had all the time in the world to deal with your meltdown.

“It’s not that deep,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You’re overreacting.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Overreacting? You’ve barely said two words to me since I got here, and when you finally do, it’s to throw some passive-aggressive jab about how I’ve ‘always been’ like that? What is it exactly? Too loud? Too much? Too—”

“Annoying,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through your tirade.

The word struck a nerve, silencing you. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.

“Annoying?” you echoed, your voice shaking. “Wow. So that’s what you think of me now? Or have you always thought I was annoying?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if this conversation was physically exhausting him. “Why are you so hung up on this?”

“Am I?” You took a step closer, your pulse quickening as anger spiked through you. “Alright then, sue me for always being like this. I didn’t change like you did. I’m still annoying, and I’ve—” You made air quotes, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “—‘always been like this.’”

“Enough,” Anton sighed, exasperated.

“What other grievances do you have against me, Anton?” you shot back, your patience worn thin. “Come on. Let’s hear it.”

“That’s enough,” he said firmly, uttering your name warningly in a way that made your stomach flip—not with fear, but with something far more complicated.

But you weren’t about to back down. “No, I’m not done. You don’t get to act like you’re some untouchable, brooding—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist—not hard, but enough to make you freeze. His other hand settled on your waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. You opened your mouth to protest, but his lips crashed into yours before you could even make a sound.

Anton kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was messy and careless, born of frustration and something you couldn’t put a finger on. Your hands pressed against his chest instinctively, not enough to push him away but not quite pulling him closer either.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was warm against your cheek. His grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely.

“See?” he muttered, smirking as he took a small step back. “Still annoying.”

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind a storm of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite name. Anton seemed completely unfazed, tugging his shirt off and changing right there in front of you. You were still frozen in place when he glanced back at you, flicking your forehead with an almost playful arrogance.

“Ow!” you groaned, snapped back to reality.

“It's just a kiss. Don’t obsess over it,” he teased, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before he turned, striding toward the door.

You stood there, the words echoing in your head—‘Just a kiss.’ He didn’t even look back as he walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of his room, heart still racing, mind still reeling.

You first met Anton when you were seven. It was the first of your many summers in their little hometown by the sea. Your mom had just finished unpacking your bags when Anton’s mother brought him over to say hello.

He didn’t say much, hiding behind her skirt and eyeing you like you were some strange creature he wasn’t sure he liked yet. But that didn’t last long. Later that afternoon, when the adults were chatting over iced tea on the porch, he shyly tugged at your sleeve and said, “Do you wanna see my pet turtle?”

You had gasped at the time, pleasantly surprised. “You have a turtle?”

“Yeah! It looks like a dinosaur!” he had responded with gleaming eyes.

That was all it took. One look at the tiny turtle swimming in a glass tank on his bedroom windowsill, and suddenly you weren’t just visiting strangers—you had a friend.

Summer after summer, the two of you grew closer. You didn’t get to spend Christmases together or birthdays, but summer break was sacred. Your families would get together at their beach house like a tradition, and that house quickly became a second home to you. Its wooden floors creaked under your bare feet, and the salty breeze always carried the sound of seagulls and laughter.

Anton was funny in a way that always caught you off guard, soft-spoken but bursting with energy when the mood struck. He had a wild streak too, like the time he dared you to jump off the pier into the ocean—even though you’d both been warned a hundred times not to. You ended up doing it, and you both got grounded for the rest of the week.

When you were eleven, he taught you how to ride a bike—well, tried to. He kept insisting he wasn’t laughing at you every time you tipped over, but you could see the way he bit his lip to hold back a grin. And when you finally managed to ride down the dirt path without falling, he cheered so loudly the neighbors peeked out their windows to see what all the fuss was about.

He wasn’t always the wild one, though. There were quieter moments too—like when the two of you built sandcastles on the beach and argued about whether a moat was necessary, or when you’d sit under the teepee in his room, eating popsicles and reading comic books.

For years, he was a head shorter than you, something you loved to tease him about relentlessly. “When are you gonna catch up, Anton?” you’d giggle, ruffling his hair.

“You’ll see,” he’d retort with a determined pout. “I’m gonna grow taller than you someday. Dad said it’s gonna happen soon.”

It became an annual joke, one he stubbornly refused to give up on even as the years passed and your height difference barely changed. Then, when you were sixteen, it finally happened. You came back that summer and found Anton waiting at the door, looking taller than he’d ever been. At first, you didn’t believe it, but the smug grin on his face told you he waited for you at the front door on purpose.

“You’re standing on something,” you accused, squinting at him.

“Nope,” he said, grinning wide as he tapped his bare feet against the porch. “I told you, didn’t I?”

By then, he wasn’t just taller; he was different in ways you couldn’t quite put into words. It was sometime after that same summer that you realized your feelings for Anton weren’t as simple as you thought.

You were teenagers, going through all the awkward, messy stages of puberty. He was becoming more handsome by the day, his boyish features sharpening in ways that made you notice things you hadn’t before. His smile seemed more charming, his laughter endearing, and you were left grappling with a new, inconvenient truth—you had a crush on your best friend.

It wasn’t like it was hard to fall for him. You’d never given it much thought before, but Anton had always been attentive to you. Having a crush on him made you see him in a different light, and his kind nature soon made your heart flutter. He teased you mercilessly, sure, but he always knew when to stop. If you were upset or sulking, he had this uncanny ability to bring you out of it without even trying.

He’d wait for you at the end of the dock whenever you hesitated to jump, his hand outstretched with a soft smile on his lips. If you got hurt—whether it was a scraped knee or a bruised ego—he was always the first to check on you. He never let you carry heavy things, always taking your bag without a word even when you protested. Sometimes you’d be shivering after a late swim, he would throw his towel over your shoulders and grin, saying you looked like a wet puppy.

He had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world, even when he was teasing you. Like the summer he spent two hours untangling the kite you’d accidentally gotten stuck in a tree, refusing to let you help because “you’ll just make it worse.” Or the time he taught you how to skip stones on the water. He’d stood behind you, guiding your arm with his, his chest brushing your back as he whispered instructions, so close you could barely focus. 

For a while, you were convinced you were in love with him. But even then, you knew better than to say anything. What if it ruined everything? What if your confession turned your friendship into something awkward and strained? What would his parents—your second family—think if you jeopardized the bond your two families shared?

So, you buried it. Tucked away that silly, puppy love into the deepest corners of your mind, letting it stay there as a bittersweet secret. You told yourself it was fine. You didn’t need him to love you back. It was enough just to be around him, to laugh with him, to call him your best friend.

And it worked. For years, it worked.

He went back to being your platonic soulmate, the person who knew you better than anyone else. The crush faded into the background, becoming a harmless relic of your teenage years—something you could look back on with fondness but without longing. Anton was family. Almost like a brother, considering the way you’d grown up together.

Or so you thought..

Now, you lay in your dimly lit bedroom, staring at the ceiling with your hand pressed to your chest. You could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours, and the memory played on a loop in your mind. 

Anton had kissed you. On the lips. And you didn’t know how to feel about it.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. You did know.

The affection you’d convinced yourself was long gone—that you’d painstakingly buried under layers of denial—wasn’t gone at all. It had been lying dormant, quietly waiting for something to wake it up. And now, with one impulsive kiss, Anton had yanked it out of its slumber.

What made it worse was Anton himself. He didn’t seem the least bit affected. He’d walked out of the room as if the kiss meant nothing, leaving you to deal with the fallout alone. Did he even care? Did he even think about what it would do to you, kissing you like that and walking away?

You let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your palms to your eyes as if you could physically stop your thoughts from spiraling.

It was too much. Anton had been too much these days. And now, he’d managed to unravel years of carefully built denial with one impulsive, reckless kiss.

What are you supposed to do now?

The next few days were unbearable. You tried your best to pretend nothing had happened between you and Anton, but that had never been your strong suit. Pretending didn’t come naturally to you, and something as major as that kiss was impossible to ignore. And Anton? Oh, he must have been having the time of his life watching you squirm.

He didn’t ignore you anymore—not like before—but a big part of you wished he just stayed indifferent and mean. He’d sit beside you at breakfast, close enough for his knee to bump against yours under the table. He’d call your name just to ask something unimportant, so casually too like the kiss didn’t even happen. Then, every once in a while, he’d throw in a remark that made your stomach flip.

“Still thinking about it?” he asked once, leaning against the dock railing as you peered down at the clear water.

You’d nearly dropped your phone in the water. “About what?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “You know what.”

You wanted to strangle him.

And the worst part? He didn’t care if anyone else was around when he did it. Around family, he kept his teasing just vague enough that no one else would catch on, subtle enough not to raise suspicions. But his remarks were bold enough to set your heart racing and leave you panicking that someone might pick up on your little secret.

By the time a week had passed, you were on the brink of losing it.

Anton’s dad had arrived back from work, and to celebrate, the family decided on a big barbecue dinner. Naturally, you and Anton were tasked with picking up groceries. It was something you often did together, but that was before. Now you just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Still, you didn’t argue. Obviously you couldn’t risk drawing attention to yourself and raising questions. Since the kiss, you hadn’t yet been alone with him, and the thought of sitting in a car with just him was making your stomach churn.

When Anton leaned over to buckle your seatbelt—his hand brushing your arm in a way that felt entirely too intentional—you swatted him away.

“I can do it myself,” you snapped.

He smirked, leaning back into his seat as if you hadn’t just scolded him. “You’re welcome.”

At the grocery store, things were mercifully normal. The conversation stayed focused on the errand. You stuck to the list, pointing out items while Anton grabbed them, and for a moment, it felt like those times in the past when you did the same errand. But then, as you were scanning a shelf for the right brand of barbecue sauce, you saw a familiar face along the aisle.

“Sungchan!” you called out, waving a hand in the air and failing to notice Anton scowling behind you.

The sight of him brought a welcome distraction, and you walked over with a smile creeping onto your face. You exchanged pleasantries, and he introduced you to his mom, who seemed just as charming as he was. Over the past week, you’d been texting with him and had even gone on a few strolls along the beach. He was funny and easygoing, and things seemed to be going well—if only you could focus on this rather than having Anton occupy space in your head.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to Anton, who stood a few steps behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Small town,” you replied with a laugh.

You chatted for a few minutes before his mom gently reminded him about their errands. Before leaving, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. It was quick and casual, but it made your cheeks burn nonetheless.

“See you soon,” Sungchan said, stepping back. “Volleyball match is on Tuesday. Don’t forget,” he added, glancing between you and Anton before walking away.

You turned back to Anton, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flushed cheeks, but of course, he had.

“You’re blushing,” he said, his voice teasing but sharper at the edges than usual.

“It’s hot,” you muttered, grabbing a random bottle of barbecue sauce and tossing it into the cart without even looking at the label.

Anton reached over, grabbed the bottle, and placed it back on the shelf. “This one’s for pasta. You’re a mess today.”

You glared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t constantly trying to mess with me.”

“Who, me?” Anton’s expression was pure mock innocence.

“Yes, you!” You snatched another bottle off the shelf, shoving it into the cart with unnecessary force before walking ahead.

He trailed behind, his voice light but carrying a certain edge. “So... you and Sungchan, huh?”

“What about us?” you said flatly, not bothering to look back.

“Oh, nothing,” Anton replied, leaning casually against the cart handle. “It’s just cute, that’s all. The way he looks at you like you’re a goddess or something. And that kiss on the cheek?” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Real smooth.”

Your brows furrowed, genuinely wondering if he was being sarcastic. He looked at you and added, “Bet he writes poems about you in his free time.”

You scoffed. “Do you really think he’s that kind of guy? Have you seen him?”

Anton shrugged. “How would I know? I’m just making a guess since you’ve had the biggest crush on him for a long time and you once told me he looked like the kind of guy who writes poems for their girlfriend.”

You grimaced. “Ew. When did I say that?”

“When we were twelve,” he answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Your eyes widened slightly before you huffed. “Well, I was twelve. And I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Anton scoffed mockingly. “No. He is that kind of guy. Romantic, spontaneous, and totally not like other guys who party till sunrise, chase after pretty girls and hookup for funsies,” he said sarcastically, smirking.

You turned to face him, your annoyance now outweighing your embarrassment. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” he said with a too-innocent shrug. “Just thought it was cute, that’s all. You’ve got a little admirer.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pack of skewers and tossing it into the cart. “Whatever. It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“Nice, sure,” Anton drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I do hope you don’t end up as another notch on his bedpost by the time summer ends.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” you shot back in frustration.

He straightened up, his smirk softening into something you couldn’t quite read. “What? I’m just looking out for you. Making sure you know what you’re getting into.”

“By mocking me?”

“By being honest,” he corrected, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You huffed, staring right back at him with no intention to back down. “Whatever I do this summer, whoever I do it with, is none of your business, Anton. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing since I got here. Keep ignoring me and continue acting like a total prick, because I’m done trying to figure out what I did so wrong to deserve this treatment from you.”

Anton’s smirk faltered, replaced by something harder to read. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned away. Without another word, he pushed the cart down the aisle, leaving you standing there, fuming and wondering if it was possible to strangle someone with barbecue tongs. 

The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against your chest, but you refused to dwell on it. Let him walk away if he wanted. Let him stew in whatever self-righteous attitude he’d decided to adopt this summer. You’re done walking on eggshells around him.

In the evening, you gathered in the backyard with your mom and the Lee family, everyone moving around busily to prepare dinner—setting up the table, checking the grill, and bringing out the salads and sides.

The sound of sizzling meat, the laughter and chatter, along with the faint echo of the waves lapping at the beach made you feel nostalgic. Barbecue nights like this had been a staple of your summers here. You hadn’t thought about them much in the two years you were away, but now that you were experiencing it again, you realized how much you’d missed it.

You focused on your tasks, determined to push away the tension from earlier at the store. The last thing you wanted was to let Anton get under your skin.

But Anton had other ideas. He was stuck to you like glue. Every time you moved to do something, he was right there, offering to help.

While you were helping Aunt Hyejin arrange side dishes, you were also trying to brush off the occasional bump of Anton’s shoulder as he reached for something nearby. It was hard to ignore the way he hovered close—not enough to draw attention, but enough to keep your nerves on edge.

“Need anything?” he asked as you washed the lettuce.

You glanced at him, your expression flat. “No, I’m good,” you said, shaking the excess water off the leaves.

He didn’t seem to take the hint. “You sure? I can—”

“No,” you cut him off, tugging the lettuce away when he reached for it. “I can do it myself.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, but instead of arguing, he grabbed a tray of meat and started skewering it—purposefully working a little too close to where you were standing.

The family, oblivious to your silent war, carried on. Junyoung teased you about your time abroad, nudging you playfully. “Bet you missed this, huh?”

“Missed what?” you asked, playing along.

“This. You can’t get this kind of barbecue anywhere else.”

You laughed but didn’t answer because Anton spoke first. “Junyoung, didn’t Dad ask you to get the charcoal?”

“Oh, crap. Right.” Junyoung hurried off, leaving you and Anton alone at the counter.

Your eyes flicked toward Anton who seemed too immersed in his task. “Move. I need space for this,” you demanded, motioning to the tray in your hand.

His gaze shifted to you for a moment, before he returned to the meat and vegetables. “If you’re done with that, come help me with these,” he said flatly.

Scoffing, you picked up the tray of washed greens and headed outside.

Once everything was set up, you took a seat at the long table, intentionally placing yourself as far from Anton as possible. Plates were filled, glasses poured, and lively chatter filled the air. But just as you lifted your fork, Anton’s voice caught your attention.

“Junyoung, move over. I’m sitting there.”

Your eyes widened as Anton casually nudged his brother out of the way, sliding into the seat beside you without hesitation. Junyoung gave you a confused look, and you could only shrug.

Anton glanced at you as he settled in. “You don’t mind, right?” he asked, his tone almost too sweet, like he wasn’t giving you a choice.

You grimaced. “Do whatever you want. It’s your house.”

To your surprise, Anton became uncharacteristically attentive. He refilled your plate with meat, made wraps for you, and handed over dishes you couldn’t reach. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but it was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his actions—or the way his gaze lingered a little too long.

It wasn’t long before Anton’s father spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. “Well, it’s nice to see you two getting along again,” he said, his gentle gaze flicking between you and Anton.

Anton raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “What do you mean?”

“The two of you,” his father replied, pointing at you and Anton. “I heard whispers about how you two weren’t speaking while I was gone. Did something happen?”

“You noticed that?” Anton asked.

Your mom chimed. “Oh, we all did. You’ve been inseparable since you were kids. Of course we’d notice if you suddenly act like strangers.”

“It’s good that you’ve made up. I thought we’d have to mediate some big falling out,” Aunt Hyejin added with a laugh, glancing between you and Anton.

Anton’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the wrap he was making.

“It was weird,” your mom continued, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease. “These two were like peas in a pod growing up. They’d even sneak out at night to stargaze on the beach together. Remember that?”

You groaned inwardly. “Mom, please.”

“Oh, don’t act embarrassed,” your aunt said, waving a hand. “It’s cute! We all thought it was adorable.”

Anton’s father narrowed his eyes playfully. “So, what happened? Did you fight?”

Before you could stammer out a reply, Anton finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Nothing happened. We’re fine.”

“That’s it?” his father pressed, clearly unsatisfied.

Anton glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. “That’s it.”

The table erupted into laughter, with your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, I guess all’s well that ends well,” your mom said, smiling. “You two were always quick to make up anyway.”

You tried to laugh it off, focusing on your plate and ignoring the way Anton’s arm brushed against yours under the table.

As the meal wrapped up and people began clearing plates, Anton stood abruptly. He didn’t announce anything to the table, just leaned down slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Air?” he asked simply, gesturing toward the beach.

For a moment, you hesitated. Then, realizing the family’s focus was elsewhere, you pushed your chair back and followed him.

Anton led the way down the path toward the beach, hands in his pockets. You followed, keeping your eyes on the back of his head as your feet sank slightly into the cool sand. The sound of waves crashing on the shore stirred something in you—restlessness, maybe. Or nostalgia.

Then he stopped by the shoreline, where the water lapped softly, and sat down.

“Are you planning to stand there all night?” he asked, glancing up at you and tapping the space next to him.

You rolled your eyes and plopped down a few feet away, deliberately creating distance. The breeze tugged at your hair, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence.

“They think we’ve made up,” you said finally, breaking the stillness.

Anton huffed a quiet laugh. “They’ve got no idea, huh?”

“Not a clue,” you replied, smirking faintly. “I don’t even know why we were fighting. Or if it was even a fight in the first place. This is your fault.”

His brow quirked at that, but instead of biting back, he chuckled softly. “Maybe it was me. I’ll take the blame.”

“You’ve been sticking to me all night,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Acting all nice, making wraps for me at dinner… What’s that about?”

Anton tilted his head toward you, his expression unreadable. “Why? You don’t like it?”

You shot him a look. “No, it’s just weird. You’ve been a prick all week, and now suddenly you’re trying to play nice. What’s your deal?”

He leaned back on his hands, eyes drifting to the horizon. “Maybe I just felt bad,” he said finally. “For these past few days, I mean.”

You snorted, trying to hide the way his sincerity caught you off guard. “So, what? It took you this long to feel bad?”

His gaze slid back to yours, and this time, it lingered. The playful edge in his expression softened, replaced by something quieter, something heavier.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

The words hung between you, stirring up emotions you weren’t prepared to unpack. You wanted to brush it off, to throw a snarky remark his way and shift the mood back to something you could handle, but the look in his eyes kept you rooted in place.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but he beat you to it.

“I didn’t mean to treat you like that,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t mean to change… us.”

Your heart twisted, but you forced a scoff. “You didn’t mean it? Could’ve fooled me.”

Anton didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at you, his eyes tracing your features like he was seeing them for the first time. The ocean breeze carried the faint scent of the summer evening, and the sound of waves crashing filled the spaces his words left behind.

And for a moment, you thought he might close the distance. His shoulders shifted, his posture leaning ever so slightly toward you, his gaze dropping to your lips—so brief you almost thought you imagined it.

But just as quickly, he pulled back. His expression returned to the smirk you were all too familiar with.

“Welp, let’s not get too sentimental,” he said lightly, brushing sand off his hands as he stood up. “You might actually start thinking I’ve changed for the better.”

You blinked, caught somewhere between frustration and something softer, as he offered you a hand to help you up.

“I still haven’t decided if I like this version of you,” you muttered, brushing past him as you started back toward the house.

He chuckled, walking ahead of you and gently bumping your shoulder as he passed you. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

A part of you wondered if the conversation was done for the night. But as you glanced at the back of his head, you couldn’t resist one last question.

“Why did you do it?” you called out.

Anton slowed but didn’t stop, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Do what?”

You caught up, falling into step beside him. “Why’d you kiss me?”

He didn’t react right away, his gaze shifting back to the path ahead. “You’re asking me that now? Have you been thinking about it all week?” he asked with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m serious. Come on,” you said, keeping your tone light but steady. “It’s not because you wanted to, right? I was just getting on your nerves, and there was no other way to shut me up. Right, Anton? Right?”

Your heart thudded in your chest as the silence stretched. Anton finally came to a stop, his hands slipping into his pockets as he turned to face you. The moonlight caught the faint curve of his smirk, but his eyes were unreadable.

“Wrong,” he said simply.

“What?” you blurted, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

Anton turned and kept walking, leaving you standing there, staring after him as the word echoed in your mind.

The weekend at the beach house passed in a blur. After your conversation with Anton, things between you weren’t awkward anymore, but they weren’t exactly normal either. You talked like usual, bantered like usual, interacted like usual—everything was as usual. Except for when his eyes would focus on you every now and then—the kind of look that seemed to communicate something your mind couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they meant something.

Sometimes, when it was just the two of you—bringing drinks outside or crossing paths in the hallway—you found yourself running through a dozen different scenarios in your head. Ones where the air grew heavy, his hand brushed yours, and somehow, the silence ended in a feverish kiss. You weren’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but they made you giddy and nervous at the same time, unsure how to handle the growing interest that crept quietly under your skin.

Soon, the day of the volleyball game rolled around, and you headed to the beach with your friends. Sungchan was easy to spot near the net, casually chatting with a group while fiddling with the ropes. When he caught sight of you, his smile stretched wide as he jogged toward you.

“You finally showed up,” he teased, hands on his hips.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone. “I’m literally on time.”

“Late, early—it’s all relative.” He grinned, taking a step back and gesturing to the setup. “So, wanna be on my team? I’m giving you a chance to switch sides before we kick your team’s ass.”

You scoffed. “How generous. But I’ve already pictured your defeat in my head, so, no thank you.”

His laugh was easy, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze softened as it lingered on you. That familiar charm of his—it was almost effortless, but you knew what you had to say.

“By the way, I have something to tell you,” you said, glancing past the others before looking back at him.

“Sure,” he nodded, his smile dimming just slightly. “That look is making me nervous, but let’s hear it.”

You took a breath. “You’re a fun guy, you really are. You’re nice too. And to be honest, I had a crush on you since I was like—” you shrugged—“twelve? I think?”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I really enjoyed hanging out with you, but  I don’t think I want to be anything other than friends with you.”

For a second, you worried how he’d take it. But Sungchan just stared at you, then let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you’d break my heart eventually.”

“Sungchan—”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, flashing his usual grin. “It’s cool, really. You didn’t drag it out, so thanks for that.”

Relief washed over you. “I just didn’t want to keep you hanging.”

“I know. I really appreciate that,” he replied, his grin turning teasing again. “Gives me more time to get to know other people. Lots of pretty girls in town this summer, you know? They’d be thrilled to know I’m still available.”

You couldn’t help chuckling. “Did you really just say that out loud?”

“Why not?” he said, smirking. “We’re friends. There’s no need to filter my words around friends.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, but the laughter that followed between you both was easy and genuine.

The volleyball setup was simple but lively—teams were already strategizing, with Sungchan’s voice ringing out as he rallied his group together. You lingered near the sidelines, soaking in the warm sun and salty breeze, until a familiar figure stepped into your peripheral vision.

Anton.

His hair was a little tousled from the wind, and he had that usual air of nonchalance as he approached. You noticed the faint furrow in his brow as his gaze shifted from Sungchan back to you.

“Are you ready for this?” you asked, keeping your tone casual.

Anton ignored the question entirely. “What were you two talking about?”

“Sungchan?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. “Nothing much. Just clearing the air.”

Anton narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, his jaw tightening slightly before he turned his attention to the players warming up.

“Didn’t think you’d actually referee,” you teased, eyeing his rashguard and short outfit.

“Someone has to keep things fair,” he replied, his tone dry as his eyes flicked to Sungchan, who was busy high-fiving his teammates.

You raised an eyebrow, catching his not-so-subtle focus. “What’s that look for?”

He shrugged, but his casual tone didn’t match the sharpness in his gaze. “Just wondering why you were all chummy with him.”

“What?” you said, rolling your eyes. “I told you. We were just talking. We’re friends. He’s nice.”

“Too nice, if you ask me,” Anton muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “You do remember that he’s older than us, right?”

You tilted your head, amusement tugging at your lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Anton Lee?”

“Not jealousy,” he shot back quickly. “Concern. You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Enemy? Aren’t referees supposed to be neutral and not pick sides.”

Anton’s lips twitched, but his expression remained guarded. “Not when it comes to him.”

“Sounds personal,” you teased.

Before he could reply, Sungchan’s voice called from across the net. “Hey, MVP! You ready to show us what you’ve got?”

A confident grin spread across your face as you turned to him. “Hope you’re ready to lose,” you shot back, adjusting your stance.

Anton muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “cocky,” but you ignored him, stepping onto the sand with the kind of ease that came from years of practice.

The game started fast, with energy running high as the teams gave their all to the game. You were quick on your feet, diving for saves and landing precise spikes that sent the ball flying past the other team’s defenses more than once.

“Still got it,” you muttered to yourself after a particularly clean shot, wiping sand off your knees.

“Nice!” Hana cheered, and you all huddled for a high-five.

Sungchan whistled, shaking his head as he retrieved the ball. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. But don’t think you’re getting another easy point.”

“Easy?” Hana echoed, smirking playfully. “Your team’s been missing half your serves. Why don’t you concede?”

“Less talking, more playing,” Yejin retorted, clapping her hands loudly.

The banter drew a laugh from the sidelines, where Anton stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Still, you caught the slight twitch of his lips whenever you scored, even if he didn’t say a word.

During a quick break, Sungchan jogged over, tossing you a water bottle. “You’re making me work harder than I thought,” he said, flashing his signature grin.

“Good,” you replied, taking a sip and wiping your brow. “I’m just getting started.”

Sungchan stood there for a few seconds, watching you. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “So, how are things with Anton?”

The water caught in your throat mid-sip, and you barely managed not to spit it out. Coughing, you waved him off as he laughed and patted your back. “What? Why would you even ask me that?”

“Has he told you about it yet?”

“About what?”

Sungchan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Don’t make me spell it out. The guy’s practically wearing a neon sign over his head that says, ‘I’m in love with her.’”

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re so dramatic. He doesn’t—”

“Sure, sure.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you’ve noticed, haven’t you? The way he gets all broody whenever we talk?”

“Broody?”

“You know, sulky. Jealous,” he grinned, casually draping an arm on your shoulder. “I didn’t think it would be so fun to tease him.”

Without thinking, you glanced over. Anton stood with his arms crossed, stealing glances at you and Sungchan. His face was unreadable, but the tight set of his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze gave him away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, turning back to Sungchan, though your pulse quickened under Anton’s gaze.

Before he could respond, a sharp whistle broke through the conversation.

“Break’s over,” Anton called, his voice firm as he motioned for everyone to get back into position.

Sungchan glanced at him, then back at you, grinning like he’d just cracked a code. “See? Broody.” He threw you a wink before jogging back to his side of the net.

As the game resumed, you couldn’t help but notice Anton’s slightly biased officiating—whistling a little too loud when Sungchan’s team scored, or muttering under his breath whenever their team celebrated.

By the time the final point was scored—your team taking the win with a flawless spike—you caught Anton watching you again, his expression softening just slightly. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced with his usual cool detachment as he blew the whistle to signal the end of the game.

The sound of cheers and laughter filled the air as your team huddled together, celebrating the win. Sohee slung an arm over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Still the MVP, huh?” he teased, ruffling your hair playfully. “I don’t know why I thought this would go any other way.”

“Because you’re overconfident,” Hana chimed in, nudging Yejin with her elbow. “And we’re, you know, actually good at this.”

You smirked. “Don’t beat yourself up, though. You guys put up a good fight.”

“Good fight, my ass,” Sohee grumbled, flopping onto the sand dramatically. “We got obliterated. I’m never playing against you guys again.”

“Come on, Sohee,” you replied, tossing him a grin as you helped him up. “It’s just for fun. You didn’t do that bad.”

“He missed three serves in a row,” Hana deadpanned, earning a loud groan from Sohee.

“Okay, no need to rub it in!” Sohee huffed, dusting the sand off his hands.

Anton approached the group, his whistle still dangling from around his neck. “You all done patting yourselves on the back?” he asked, his tone neutral but his eyes briefly meeting yours.

“What exactly are we winning? Do we get a prize?” Yejin asked, looking around.

Sungchan shrugged. “Bragging rights?” he said with evident uncertainty in his tone and expression.

Your team groaned, unsatisfied. Sungchan stammered. “Hey, we didn’t decide on a prize when we talked about this game.”

Sohee raised a hand. “Okay, guys, since I’m basically responsible for our loss, ice cream’s on me for the winners. Losers can fend for themselves.”

“Wow, so generous,” Sungchan deadpanned, but he followed anyway, dragging his team along.

“It’s okay, dude,” Yejin said, clapping him on the back. “You’re rewarded enough. It’s not every day you get to play with an MVP.”

“You mean lose to an MVP,” Sungchan corrected, nodding toward you. “You’re a beast out there, seriously. Respect.”

“Respectfully defeated, you mean?” Hana teased, crossing her arms.

Sungchan shrugged, unfazed. “I’m not bitter. I’d rather lose to a skilled player than Sohee.”

“Okay, man. Low blow,” Sohee sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Sungchan flashed you a knowing grin before his gaze flickered toward Anton. “Guess you’re proud of her too, huh, ref?”

Anton’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he only shrugged. “She’s decent.”

“Decent?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes at him. “Pretty sure I just carried my team to victory.”

“I’d rather not inflate your ego,” he retorted, smirking.

As the group headed toward the snack stand, you lingered for a moment, brushing sand off your legs. Anton hung back too, his gaze lingering on the horizon before he glanced at you.

“Decent, huh?” you said, crossing your arms as you turned to him.

His lips twitched. “You heard me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You could just admit you’re impressed.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied, turning toward the snack stand without waiting for a response.

Shaking your head, you followed, the playful energy from the game lingering in the air.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group gathered around a bonfire on the beach. Drinks were passed around, the conversation flowing easily. More people arrived as the evening deepened, including some of Anton’s posh friends. They blended effortlessly into the group, their polished smiles and designer outfits standing out against the casual beachwear.

At some point, Sohee handed Anton a guitar with a knowing smirk. “Would you play something for us?”

Anton chuckled, adjusting the strap before strumming a few chords. The group around the fire cheered, and soon everyone was singing along, their voices blending beautifully with the melody Anton was playing.

You leaned back against the driftwood bench, watching him as his fingers glided over the strings with ease. There was something captivating about how relaxed he seemed—more confident, more self-assured. The shy boy you’d grown up with had always seemed happiest when he was off to the side, letting others take the spotlight. Now, he was in the center of it, getting attention without even trying.

In hindsight, this should’ve made you happy. Seeing him like this—more mature, more comfortable in his own skin—should’ve felt like a victory for the both of you. But you didn’t have time to process this because the joy of his transformation had been buried under your indignation, your frustration at being treated like a stranger.

You sighed and turned your gaze to the fire, trying to push the thoughts away.

Later, as the party stretched into the night, Sungchan plopped down beside you with a drink in hand.

“Long face at a party?” he teased, nudging your arm lightly.

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff like Anton?” he asked, raising a brow.

You gave him a side-eye, but his grin was disarming enough that you found yourself nodding. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he echoed, leaning closer like he was fishing for details. “Come on, you can tell me. I’m great at giving unsolicited advice.”

That earned a laugh out of you. “Why are you nosy?”

He shrugged. “This is the most interesting thing that happened here since summer break started. I’m a little too invested.”

“Fine,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Get ready.”

And so, you told him everything—how you and Anton had grown up together, spending every summer side by side, how he used to be this sweet, shy boy you adored. You told him about your silly teenage crush on him, how you’d skipped the last two summers, and how things were so different now that you were back. Sungchan listened intently, nodding along as you spoke.

“And then he kissed me,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “And now I’m… I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m falling for him again or if I’m just confusing old feelings for something they’re not.”

Sungchan leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a lot to unpack,” he said, then smirked. “But hey, you’ve got options. If it’s real, great. If it’s not, at least you’ll know. Either way, you win.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not exactly helpful.”

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe stop overthinking it. You’ll figure it out,” he replied. “But if you’re asking me? I think you’re not confusing old feelings. It’s just that the old feelings are stronger now that you’re older and wiser. Well, not so wise, but still wiser than when you were sixteen.”

Your laugh came out startled. “What makes you think so?”

“Just a hunch,” he said, winking.

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over the both of you. You looked up to see Anton standing there, his expression unreadable as he glanced between you and Sungchan.

“Time to go,” Anton said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, leaning back against the bench. “It’s still early.”

Anton huffed, unfazed. “I’d hate to ruin your night, but I’m tired, so let’s just go.”

You groaned, glancing at Sungchan, who gave you an exaggerated pout. “Guess this is goodbye,” he said dramatically.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you retorted, but you smiled as you stood. “Thanks for listening.”

He gave you a two-fingered salute as you turned to follow Anton.

As you walked up the beach, the sounds of the party fading behind you, you glanced at Anton. “Can’t you go home by yourself?”

“You think I’m dragging you along because I want to?” he asked back, glancing sideways at you. “Take it up to your two moms if you have a problem with it.”

You huffed. “I probably should. One can’t go home without the other? What are we, fifteen?”

Anton didn’t respond, but you caught the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he walked ahead.

The car ride was too quiet for your liking. Anton kept his grip tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, and you couldn’t ignore the hint of annoyance on his expression. 

You’d been stealing glances over at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes. The way he was acting—the sudden coldness after the bonfire, the way he pulled away emotionally—it was all too confusing and infuriating. 

“Anton, you’re angry,” you said, your voice low but steady. “What’s going on? Another mood swing?”

He finally looked at you, his eyes dark, the frustration in them almost raw. “Can you mind your own business?”

“I can if you stop making me feel like this was my business too.”

Anton let out a sharp exhale, and with a swift turn of the steering wheel, he pulled over to the side of the road, stepping on the brakes so abruptly, you were jolted forward, the seatbelt digging into your chest.

“What the hell—”

“What do you want me to say?” he cut you off, his voice rough.

“What do I want you to say?” you echoed, heart pounding as anger rose in your chest. “Are you serious? You’ve been treating me like a stranger since I got here. You’ve barely talked to me, and when you do, it’s like I’m the last person you want to be around. What do I want you to say?”

You scoffed incredulously. “I want you to tell me what I did so wrong to deserve this.”

Anton’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching so hard it was a wonder it didn’t crack. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter, but no less intense. “I missed you. So fucking much.”

For a second, his words knocked the wind out of you. But the anger came rushing back. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. You missed me, so you’re treating me like crap? What the hell, Anton?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pressing his hands to his face. “I don’t know, alright? I just—I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t talk to you. You were supposed to be here, and you weren’t. And now you’re back, and I’m—” He broke off, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration.

You blinked, caught off-guard by the vulnerability in his voice. You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn’t know what to say so you closed it again. At that moment, it was as if the only thing you could do was reach out your hand and place it on his arm, squeezing gently in hopes that it would somehow comfort him, that it would be enough to express what your words cannot.

His head turned toward you, and the look in his eyes made your breath hitch. His gaze flicked to your lips, and before you could process what was happening, his hand was on your arm, pulling you toward him. Then his lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrestrained, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. 

And you couldn’t pull away—not that you wanted to. Everything you had been holding back, everything you’d been pretending not to feel, was suddenly pouring out in that kiss.

He tugged you closer, his other hand sliding to your waist as the kiss deepened, raw and messy, with a kind of desperation that matched your own. You could feel his heavy breathing against your lips as his body tensed beneath you, and it only made you want to close the distance even more.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching a handful of his hair because you needed to hold on to something—anything—that was real.

Anton’s hands moved to your neck, his touch possessive, as if he was trying to assure himself that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You pulled away for a breath, your chest rising and falling quickly as you stared at each other, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Anton…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say it. Just—don’t say anything right now.” He kissed you again, one hand slipping under your shirt but you stopped him.

“No.” You pushed him away gently, your lips curving into a small smile. “Not here. Come on, dude. Not in the car. Let’s at least make this special.”

He leaned back, a short, dark laugh escaping him. “I just kissed you till you’re breathless, and you call me dude after?”

You laughed lightly, still breathless yourself. “Are you seriously gonna hold that against me instead of focusing on more pressing matters?” You glanced at the unmistakable bulge in his jeans.

Anton grunted, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifted the gear stick, suddenly looking more determined than ever as he stepped on the gas.

You couldn’t help grinning at the look on his face. You reached for his chin, pulling him close just enough to press a soft kiss on his cheek. As you sat back, Anton’s fingers brushed against yours, holding your hand with a light squeeze as the car sped down the highway.

The house was quiet when you and Anton arrived. It was past 1am, and the soft hum of the house was the only sound that filled the air as you both tiptoed down the dimly lit hallway. Your footsteps were almost inaudible on the hardwood floor, but your heart raced in your chest. When you passed by his parents’ room, you both paused for a moment, checking for any signs of movement, worried that someone might wake up and catch you sneaking.

When you reached the upper floor landing, Anton grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed the side of your neck as you walked down the hall. The thrill of the risk only heightened your need for each other, and you couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at your lips as his hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you against him for a second.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whispered, though the mischief in your voice gave  away the fact that you were enjoying this too.

He groaned impatiently. “Why is your bedroom so far away?”

“It’s not, you’re just dramatic,” you chided softly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips and slipping away when he moved to cage you in his arms.

The need for each other was overwhelming, but you couldn’t risk waking anyone up, couldn’t let anyone see this side of you two yet.

When you finally reached your bedroom door, you turned to face Anton, curling your fingers in his shirt. “Don’t you dare go in there without me,” you said, pulling him toward you for another kiss, the same fervent kiss he’d been giving you all night.

As you both stumbled into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, everything else disappeared—the house, the people, the secrets. The room was quiet except for the sound of your uneven breaths. He was so close, his familiar face somehow different now, his eyes tracing yours like he was seeing you for the first time.

“This is insane,” you whispered, a shaky laugh slipping out as you broke eye contact. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“Oh, it’s totally up to you,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “But right now, I can’t stop thinking about you… like this,” he added, his fingers brushing on the sleeves of your shirt, tugging it off slowly.

You let him undress you as your stomach fluttered at his confession. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. It started soft, tentative, like you were afraid to push too far. But then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in, and suddenly it wasn’t soft anymore.

The kiss deepened, years of restraint unraveling all at once. He laid you back against the bed, his weight hovering over you. As his lips trailed down your neck with slow and careful kisses, your mind began to spiral with a sensation that was both new and unfamiliar.

When he got rid of your bra and revealed your bosoms before his eyes, he had to take a moment and look at you—really look at you, with a face of disbelief and amazement. That gaze made you shy, but you tried not to show it, hoping he liked what he was seeing. 

“This feels… a bit different,” he murmured, meeting your gaze. His voice trembled slightly, and it struck you that he was just as nervous as you were.

“Because it is,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “But it’s still us.”

That seemed to settle something in him. He leaned down to kiss you again, only for a short while before abandoning your lips and moving to your neck. He licked and nipped at your skin, leaving a slight sting that sent shivers down your spine—a delightful balance of pain and pleasure. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, the center of your chest, and the soft hollow beneath your breast before moving to suck on your nipple.

The sudden jolt of pleasure made you arch your back, stifling a gasp that almost tore out of your lungs. Anton continued, eyes locked with yours, studying every expression you were making.

His hands grew bolder, fingertips traveling to your belly, down to your sex with curiosity and reverence. His motions were gentle at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But with each soft gasp or subtle shift of your body, his confidence grew. When his thumb brushed a spot that made you shiver, he paused, repeating the motion with a soft hum, like he’d just unlocked a secret meant only for him.

He already knew you so well—the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, the way your laugh sounded when you tried to muffle it, and the things that made you fold into yourself when you were upset. But this—this part of you—was new, uncharted territory neither of you had thought you’d ever explore.

“Didn’t know you could make that face,” he teased, tickling your ear.

A quiet laugh slipped out of you when his hand fumbled at an awkward angle. “You lost it,” you giggled and he let out a soft chuckle in return.

“Sorry. Where did it go?” he asked, grinning toothily. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

You shook your head, still grinning, and cupped his jaw in your hand. “You’re doing fine.”

The laughter didn’t last long. It faded into urgency when you reached between his legs where his manhood was trapped in his tight jeans. Anton let out a pained grunt when your hand brushed it, murmuring “Fuck,” before backing away from you and stripping out of his clothes in a matter of seconds.

He dived back to your lips, crashing with intense fervor while his hand spread your legs wider. He held you tight as he positioned himself, shushing you gently as he slowly fitted himself inside. Every fiber in your body stood in attention, anticipating the delightful pain to shoot through you. And when it came, it was infinitely better than what you imagined.

Instinct took over as you clung to him, your pulse racing as he began to move at a languid pace, familiarizing before going at a steadier pace. The sheets twisted under your fingers, the soft rasp of his name escaping your lips as he pressed harder.

Every thrust ignited something inside you, every whispered murmur of your name leaving you more breathless than the last. You could no longer keep track of what was happening, too far gone to think clearly, but conscious enough to know you wanted more—more of him, more of this pleasure that was driving you insane in the best way possible.

After who knows how long, a throaty moan ripped out of you, your back arching as you let the high engulf you in waves. Anton kept his thrusts steady, riding through your high until your knees shook with too much stimulation. Then you fell back on the bed, limbs weak and your energy depleted.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, your pulse still racing as he held you in his arms. In the atmosphere was a quiet kind of understanding that didn’t need words. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, slowly pulling you out of the haze of desire.

You shifted slightly, looking up to find him already watching you. He was smiling, a little shy but undeniably happy. His hand slid up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before letting his fingers linger on your jaw. 

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smiled. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The next morning, you woke up with Anton’s arm still wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you nicely. The sunlight poured into the room and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Your body was still tingling from the night before, but you were content and happy.

Anton stirred beside you, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist. He buried his face in your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You awake?” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly along your jaw.

You smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

He nodded, exhaling deeply as he stretched, the movement shifting you slightly before he pulled you close again. “Figured you’d say that,” he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But then his expression softened. “I know I’ve got a lot to answer for.”

The night had brought you closer, but it had also left things unanswered, things that neither of you could avoid any longer.

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I was an idiot,” he began, his tone quieter now. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you came back. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You blinked at him, watching his face and saw the faint flicker of guilt and uncertainty in his eyes. This was a side of Anton you hadn’t seen in a while—the one who let his guard down, even if only for a moment.

“I thought I’d lost you for good,” he continued, his voice steady but low. “You didn’t come for two summers. No calls, no texts—it felt like you disappeared, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

You frowned. “No one told you I was away for uni?” you asked sarcastically.

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I knew. But…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the last two years. Different time zones, schedules, and all. You were out there, living your life. I see your posts online. You were killing it in school, making new friends, living your life. Hell, you even had a boyfriend at one point.” He chuckled bitterly, the sound more self-deprecating than amused. Then he continued. “I guess I got insecure and thought you were content living a life without me in it.”

“Come on. That’s not true,” you defended, scowling.

“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “I know that now. But back then, it just... I don’t know how else to say it—it messed me up. Like I said, I was insecure.”

“So I decided to live my life too, and it was good. I learned lots of new things, met lots of people, and discovered interests in fields I didn’t know I had interest in. It was great.” He paused, swallowing hard, then muttered, “Then mom said you were coming for summer this year and suddenly, I was thinking about you again. I realized that I wasn’t mad because I felt abandoned and forgotten. I was just… in love with you.”

You gasped softly, pulse racing at his confession. Anton smiled at you as he continued. “I didn’t know how to deal with that and I knew you’d leave eventually, so I thought if I acted like you were a stranger, it’d hurt less when you’re gone. Obviously it didn’t. It just made everything worse.”

You could feel the sincerity of his words, the honesty finally breaking through the wall he’d built.

“You didn’t have to go through all that,” you said gently, your hand cupping his cheek. “I never forgot about you, Anton. I could never, even if I try. You and me, we’re like, stuck with each other.”

A faint smile broke through his solemn expression. “You make it sound like a punishment.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I mean, for me, it kind of is.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised. “For real?”

“No,” you replied quickly, grinning and wrapping your arm tighter around him.

Anton chuckled. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, your voice gentle and light.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you filled with the soft hum of the morning. Then Anton sighed. “I don’t want to screw this up,” he said. “Not with you. Not again.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “I’ll kill you if you do.”

Anton’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. I love living my life, you see.”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. There was no need for more words right now. You were finally on the same page, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

No one knew, and that was the beauty of it.

To the outside world, nothing had changed. You and Anton had always been close, always spent summers attached at the hip, so when you were together—laughing over shared inside jokes or disappearing for hours at a time—it wasn’t out of the ordinary. No one thought to question it. But for the two of you, everything was different.

You snuck out late at night, barefoot and giddy, to watch the stars from the beach. Anton would bring a blanket and a bottle of his dad’s wine he swiped from the kitchen, and the two of you would lie there for hours, trading stories and stolen kisses. Sometimes, you’d just sit in comfortable silence, your fingers intertwined, his lips occasionally pressing against your temple.

In the mornings, you’d meet for coffee at the little café down the street, pretending it was a casual thing when your families asked. But as soon as you were alone, Anton would squeeze himself beside you, smiling as he held your hand in his. 

“Think they’re catching on?” he’d tease, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“No idea,” you’d reply, grinning. “We’d probably get married and they’d think it’s just us being silly.”

Anton gasped, covering his mouth. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Oh my god. Can you go back to being nonchalant? I don’t miss your old dramatic self.”

“Aw,” he said cutely, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Come on, baby. You don’t mean that.”

You revisited the places you’d loved as kids, seeing them through new eyes. The old treehouse near the playground became your hideout, where you’d sit together, legs tangled as you reminisced about summers past. 

“You used to boss me around so much here,” Anton would say, laughing when you nudged him. “Still do, actually.”

“You love it,” you’d shoot back, and he’d smirk before kissing you, his hand slipping beneath your shirt in a way that made you forget whatever you were about to say next.

There were days when you explored each other in ways that left you breathless—your skin tingling, your heart racing. Anton was patient and attentive, his touch both gentle and electrifying. He’d study you like he was learning a language, his lips tracing paths across your body as if trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You discovered parts of him, too—little things he liked, the way he shivered when you kissed just below his jaw, the way he whispered your name like a prayer whenever you gave him the ride of his life.

You got to know him in ways you never had before, and it made you fall harder. Behind his teasing and occasional grumpiness, there was a gentle boy, a vulnerability that he only ever let you see. And you held it close, cherishing every piece of him.

Together, you built a world of your own—one filled with secret smiles, lingering touches, and endless laughter. No one else was privy to it, and you liked it that way. The privacy made it feel more sacred, more yours.

You were looking for some cards in the drawers in Anton’s room when you spotted something familiar. Pulling it out, you found an old photo tucked between the pages of a dusty book. It was from one of those endless summers, taken when you and Anton were maybe sixteen. The two of you were sitting side by side on the wooden dock, feet dipped into the water. His grin was wide, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders, and your expression was somewhere between laughing and rolling your eyes.

“Hey, Anton,” you called out, walking into the living room where he was sprawled out on the couch. He glanced up lazily, but his eyes immediately sharpened when he saw what you were holding.

“Where’d you find that?” he asked, reaching for it.

“In your room. You didn’t think I’d find it tucked safely in your old guitar book?” you teased, holding the photo out of his reach.

He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Man, I looked so good back then.”

You snorted, flopping down beside him. “You’re ridiculous. You look the same, just taller and with more expensive haircuts.”

He raised a brow at you. “And you?”

You grinned. “I peaked at sixteen. Obviously.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You were annoying at sixteen.”

“Funny you say that,” you said, leaning back into the couch, the photo still clutched in your hand. “Because I had a crush on you back then.”

The confession rolled off your tongue casually, but the way Anton’s head snapped toward you was anything but casual.

“You what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “No big deal. It didn’t even last long.”

Anton stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he crossed his arms and pouted, sulking like a child.

“That’s unfair,” he muttered.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What’s unfair?”

“That you stopped liking me,” he said, scowling. “Because I was in love with you around that time.”

Your mouth fell open. “No, you’re not.”

He grumbled something under his breath and refused to meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears were red.

“No, you’re not,” you repeated, half-laughing, half-shocked. You grabbed his arm and shook him playfully. “Come on, be serious. You’re lying, aren’t you?”

Anton just tutted and gave you a side-eye. Her mom walked in at that moment, struggling to hook her necklace.

“Sweetheart, come help me with this,” she asked, handing the jewelry to you. You quickly rose to help her. As you did, she narrowed her eyes at Anton and said, “Now, what’s going on? Are you guys fighting again?”

“Anton’s a liar,” you teased, glancing briefly at him. “He said he had a crush on me when we were sixteen.”

“Really?” Aunt Hyejin asked, tilting her head a little. She looked at you just as you finished locking her necklace. “You’re only finding out about it now?”

“Mom!” Anton interjected, standing up and dragging Aunt Hyejin away.

“What? I thought she knew the whole time,” Aunt Hyejin said, laughing as they disappeared into a corner.

You stood there dumbfounded and confused, though your heart was fluttering so much it made your cheeks burn.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in front of a mirror. “Can you believe it?” you scoffed, turning toward Anton, who was buttoning up his shirt. “Me, going to Belle’s cocktail party?”

Anton, leaning against the doorframe as he adjusted his cufflinks. “If you hate it that much, we can just ditch.”

You rolled your eyes, smoothing out your skirt. “No. I’d love to see how you ended up being friends with those stuck-ups.” You paused, catching Anton’s gaze in the mirror. “Sorry, I forgot they’re your friends now.”

He smirked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Well, they’re still stuck-ups. But they’re chill when you get to know them.”

You snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

Surprisingly, you did see. The cocktail party was better than you’d expected. The rich kids, despite their reputation, were easygoing and friendly once you got past their posh exteriors. Anton, fit right in as a rich kid himself, but his attention was never far from you.

At some point, someone mentioned Anton’s ‘first love’, and your ears perked up.

“He told us about her once, when he was drunk,” Belle said with a grin, sipping her drink. “ We’ve never seen Anton act and speak so cutely.”

You raised a brow, curious but playing it cool. “Really?”

Belle nodded, leaning in conspiratorially. “Yeah. Apparently, she used to tease him so much he wanted to strangle her half the time, but he also couldn’t imagine life without her.”

One guy added, “He even said she had this little laugh, you know, like a giggle that always got him. Man was a goner.”

“Yeah. He said she was his everything, but he was too scared to tell her. Isn’t that cute?”

Your heart skipped a beat as Anton avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Later, as you walked down the beach with Anton, your high heels dangling from one hand and your other hand holding onto his arm, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The waves lapped at your feet, cool and soothing, as you glanced up at him.

“So,” you began, grinning, “I’m your everything, huh?”

Anton groaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t start.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “You’re so cute.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, but his hand tightened around yours.

You leaned against his chest, enjoying his warmth in the cool summer night.

“You were right,” you admitted, glancing up at him. “Your new friends aren’t so bad.”

“Told you,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get cocky. I still think it’s hilarious you used to hate them and now you’re all buddy-buddy.”

Anton gave you a dry look. “Of course you do. I sometimes can’t believe it myself.”

You grinned mischievously. “Anton Lee, a social butterfly. Who would’ve thought?”

He chuckled softly. “Not me.”

The moonlight reflected off the water as you walked in comfortable silence, stealing kisses here and there. Your fingers were laced together, his thumb occasionally brushing against yours.

You glanced at him, the soft glow of the moonlight highlighting his features. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy you’d grown up with, the one who used to argue with you over who got the last piece of pizza or who could jump farther off the dock.

Being with him now, like this, felt surreal. But it also felt right.

“I still think you’re a loser, though,” you teased. Anton narrowed his eyes, and you saw the flicker of mischief in them a second too late.

“Take it back,” he said, his tone warning.

“Or what?” you taunted, stepping backward, a playful grin on your face.

He didn’t reply, already kicking off his shoes and rolling up his pants.

You shrieked, spinning around to run, the cool sand shifting under your bare feet. Anton’s laugh echoed behind you as he chased you down, his longer strides closing the distance easily.

“No!” you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep running.

It wasn’t long before he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifted you off the ground. He spun you around, your laughter and shrieks echoing in the air.

Romantic relationships between childhood friends weren’t without their risks. You knew that. There was always the fear of ruining what had been there for so long, of losing not just a lover but a best friend. But as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, you realized you weren’t afraid.

Because no matter where life took you, as long as you were with Anton, you’d figure it out together.

[fin]

[biblicalhorror]

Got upset thinking about the wasted potential of zoeys extraordinary playlist as psychological horror/thriller again :/

[huccimermaidshirts]

.

[bmpmp3]

it sucks when ur trying to find more music similar to a specific song but all ur “songs like ___” or r/ifyoulikeblank google searches are yielding NOTHING because everyone else looking wants more music similar to different criteria of said song that you do. point #834904985403 as to why we need to bring the hyper specific microgenre names of electronic music to all genres (joking. ....unless?)

[soopysoap]

man smth about escaping reality through day dreaming about fantasies that you cling onto just to get you through the day and then becoming thoroughly more disconnected to real life until it feels like the only thing that can bring you back is your fantasy becoming a reality always gets me idk

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[skitskatdacat63]

Sebcedes fmv to Twilight by Bôa. It only exists in my head unfortunately

[sunrizef1]

big reputation pt 3

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Kelly piquet? Slight violence, canon divergent (Logan has a seat lmfao)

Authors Note: from now on every fic I post will be considered a period piece because I am NOT taking Logan out of that seat.

Pt1 Pt2

yourusername

📍Cardiff, Wales

liked by lewishamilton formulaone and 25,888,007 others

yourusername Cardiff, you were wonderful!!!!! We had never played a show in Wales before but we will definitely be back again! We all had a great time ✨ Thank you so much for coming out and having the night of your lives with me, I'm so grateful for every single one of you! 🖤 I’ll see you soon, Edinburgh…📸

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user1 I love you queen

user2 guys… I miss the drivers

user3 they miss one show like every two weeks and y'all say this every time 😭😭😭

user3 and they'll probably be back next week in Hungary anyway! 😭

user2 but that's like only one or two drivers or just their girlfriends or just f1-related people, its not the same 😭 I need them all together again 😭🙏

user4 my show 🥰

user5 we need more shows in wales…

yourusername ...✌️

user5 TWO??? AS IN LEG 2??? MORE CARDIFF SHOWS NEXT YEAR???

user6 RATATATATATATATATATATATA

user7 the camera emoji after Edinburgh??? And the dots?? …Ready for it? Music video announcement in Edinburgh???

charles_leclerc ✨🖤

liked by yourusername

user8 Logan going out of his way to make it to Cardiff... Not beating the boyfriend allegations

user9 THIS WAS MY SHOWWWWW

fernandoaloofficial Very good!!! 👍 🖤

yourusername thank you, Nando 🫶🏻

user10 🐍🐍🐍

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yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

damn he really is down bad

I'm assuming you mentioned the flowers once and he immediately bought them for you?

yourusername

That would be correct, yes

oscarpiastri

thought so 🙂‍↕️

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INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Antwerp, Belgium

liked by landonorris killatrav and 15,888,777 others

yourusername Antwerp!!! This was one of the greatest shows of my life, the crowd was absolutely electric!!! We also got a rain show, which are always my favorites ☔ We also introduced my new favourite idea, mashing-up surprise songs, which is something I am so excited to continue and you all seemed very excited so I am thrilled!! 🫶

Next up, Amsterdam ☝️ 🇳🇱🇳🇱

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user11 WOOOOOOO

user12 I was there 🙂‍↕️🙏

landonorris ✨

liked by yourusername

user13 guyssss I got mine x stay stay stay!!!! We won! 🥰

user14 I 🫶 rain shows

user15 guys notice how there's three exclamation marks… twice… 3… 3… 33… max’s old number… and then the ☝️ emoji… its a 1… max’s current number… Netherlands is next… she uses two exclamation marks at the end… two Dutch flags… Logans number is two…

user16 are you mentally okay

user15 no

user17 no drivers… what if I kms

user18 but we got the wags!!! 🥰

user17 and if I said y/n was the one true wag

user17 what then

user18 you would be correct 🙂‍↕️ 2️⃣🇺🇸

user19 wait the surprise song thing is so cute!!!!

user20 she's so prettyyyyy

lilymhe 💋💋💋

liked by yourusername

user21 I was here!!! When I tell you everyone gasped so hard when she started singing stay stay stay in the middle of mine, we were all screaming!!!

user22 LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️

yourusername ❤️

user23 girl I did not know mash-ups were an option 😭

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alexandrasaintmleux

The best trio 🥰

yourusername

Correct 🤭🙂‍↕️

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lilymhe

I'm so glad you're here 😭😭😭

yourusername

Me too 😭😭😭

lilymhe

I need you back in Williams ☹️

yourusername

Soon…🤭

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yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

Repping Ferrari today….

Betrayal doesnt look cute on you

yourusername

you'll be okay darling 💋

logansargeant

No ☹️

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yourusername added to their story

fernandoalo_official

Stay safe mija

you're going behind enemy lines

yourusername

Lol, thanks Nando

I'll be safe

fernandoalo_official

Just look out for anyone in orange….

They're a suspicious bunch

yourusername

I will 🫡

fernandoalo_official

Good 👍

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MESSAGES

TWITTER

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yourusername

📍Amsterdam, Netherlands

liked by alex_albon alexandrasaintmleux and 21,008,008 others

yourusername Amsterdam, you were so lovely!!! I'll admit I was a little nervous for these two shows but you all showed me so much kindness and these crowds will definitely go down as two of my favourites of all time 🫶 I had a really great time and I really felt so connected to every person in that stadium, I can't thank you enough for everything 🤍

But these shows made me realize how much we've grown this past year. Reputation was such a scary project for me and the reception from you all was so much better than I expected. Its been a year of love and I'm so thankful that you've stuck by me, you don't know how much it means 🤍🫶

So thank you to the drivers, to my friends and family, to the crew, to Jack, to Lewis, Charles and Logan and, most of all, to you, the fans. I love you 🤍

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user24 wait night one was wild

user25 as someone who was night one, the atmosphere when people found max was crazy 😭😭😭 so much yelling 😭

user26 RIGHT like I was upper bowl and had no idea what everyone was yelling about 😭

user27 IS THAT LAST PICTURE HER BF

user27 FOLLOW UP QUESTION: IS THAT LOGAN

user28 LMAO the middle finger in the last picture, she really hates max 😭

user29 why did she talk about love so much during the show and then in the caption…

user30 conspiracy theory: its their anniversary

lilymhe 💋💋💋

liked by yourusername

user31 that second pic is so cute 🥹

lewishamilton thanks for the shoutout 😎

yourusername thank YOU for everything lew 🤍

user32 out of all the drivers she chose to name three specifically: Lewis (who featured on the album and also has producer credits), Charles (who featured and has all the piano credits), and Logan, (who…. Was the muse for the album???)🫣

user33 wait why is no one talking about how crazy the max thing is

user34 yeah every ones talking about Logan but the m*x appearance is actually insane behaviour

user35 girl I read jack and fully thought she meant doohan 😭

user36 WAIT who did she mean??? I also thought she meant doohan 😭😭😭

user35 jack antonoff girl 😭

fernandoalo_official proud of you mija ❤️

yourusername thank you Nando 🤍

user36 I adore them 😭

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yourusername

📍Las Vegas, Nevadaa

liked by logansargeant charles_leclerc and 32,008,998 others

yourusername about a year and a half ago, I thought my life was over. I was betrayed by the very same people I thought were my forever.

But, after months of hiding, I ran into you at a dive bar deep in the city of Miami and suddenly my forever was you. You were in your buzzcut phase and I had just bleached my hair. You recognized me, of course. We'd met a couple of times and I'd always thought kindly of you. We started to talk and hours passed without us even noticing. I'm not sure where your friends had gone but looking back at it now, I'm glad they left because I can't imagine the conversation we had being joined by other people. It was already vaguely awkward enough.

I wasn't exactly lighting up the room that night. It had been a rough couple of months and I'd only gone out in hopes of finding a sliver of happiness. Thank god I did because it brought me to now, where I'm the happiest I've ever been. It brought me to you.

You, my love, are so wonderful and beautiful and talented and I honestly can't believe you're mine. Thank you so much for sticking beside me and becoming my forever muse. I could go on and on about the lyrics I've written about you but I think I'll just keep that for the next album 🫣

We went from hiding out in hotel rooms, curtains drawn tightly so paparazzi couldn't see and taking back roads to the studio to avoid anyone who might recognize us to you coming to every single show and me getting to sing to you and every single night.

From the new years parties in New York to the bouquets in Dublin and to the rings in Las Vegas 💍, I love you forever, Lo 🤍

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user37 AWWWWWWWWWW

user38 THIS IS INSANEEEEE

user39 the hardest of hard launches!!! 🥰

user40 WAIT WHAT

lilymhe congratulations love! No one deserves this happiness more than you 🤍🥰

yourusername lilyyyy 🥹🫶

user41 IM SOBBING MY PARENTSSSSSS

user42 THE CLIP OF CHARLES CRYING AFTER SHE SHOWS THE RING?????? MEEEEE

charles_leclerc congrats ange, so happy for you ❤️

yourusername forever grateful for your super secret spy work last year, none of this could’ve happened without you 🤍

charles_leclerc 🫡

user42 OHHHHH Charles was digging for info on max that’s why he was friends with him last year 😭

lancestroll 🥳🥳🥳

liked by yourusername

user43 this is adorable 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux me and Lily are planning the bachelorette party as we speak 🥳🎉

yourusername as long as you guys are there it will be perfect 🥹🤍

user44 AWWWWWWW OMG

carlossainz congrats!! 😎💍

liked by yourusername

landonorris LETS GOOOOO

liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri now that you're engaged I can finally yell you that he's legit had a crush on you for years. I couldnt get away from the sound of him playing Fearless over and over and over again

yourusername he's adorable. And it sounds like you're… complaining????

oscarpiastri nope ofc not, fearless is great, aoty for a reason, best country album of all time, I'd never complain 🙂‍↔️🫡

yourusername thanks osc 🤍

alex_albon did u like ur proposal…? 😽

yourusername I've been informed of your involvement and am pleased to tell you that the proposal was wonderful. Thank you Alex 🫶

alex_albon well flowers can't arrange themselves 🫡 congrats y/n

alex_albon we’re grateful to have you in the Williams family 🤍

user45 my forever muse 😭

user46 the parallels between this caption and the five year one for m*x 😭

logansargeant you’re the love of my life and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together 🤍 I love you so much darling and I’m so proud to get the honor of calling you my wife 🤍🤍🤍 😊

yourusername love you lo 🤍🥹

user47 oh my god they’re so in love, I’m so happy that y/n got to have this relationship after everything with max 🥹🤍

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logansargeant added to their story

yourusername

My forever boy 💍

logansargeant

I love you baby 🤍😊

yourusername

I love you too 🤍🥹

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[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[tan1shere]

Her Favorite

Teacher Billie Eilish x student female reader !

A/n: the thought of this is sending me feral rn, enjoy 😩 also Claudia is in this and we are pretending you and her are the same ages okur yuh (20-21)(bills is nearing 30s let's say 😋 MILF) - there's going to be links to the outfits on each day that she wears on one of the words, just to help you get a better visual 😁

Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.

Warnings: smut DURH, mdni ! Thigh riding, soft dom bills nothing new here, sub reader, heavy sexual tension GAHH - think thats it ! Lmk if I left anything out 😙

Masterlist - pt 2 , pt 3

You were a college student. That's how most of these go right? You're the popular party throwing, blonde- no. In this case you were the shy, less know girl who sat in the middle of the class, not in the front and center. Or in the back. You were fairly confident, in yourself and what you loved. But all attention on you sent worry through your body. You had one best friend, Claudia. She was the kindest soul, more outgoing than you were but you loved her regardless.

Today was a Wednesday so that means music class. You don't really have any interest in it if you're being honest. But Claudia insisted you join her as a fun class, which you'd argue with and say all classes were fun in a way. But that wasn't strictly true. You couldn't sing, nor play any instrument so it wasn't as fun to you. "You know, I got you to agree to this class because it was fun, not to be good at it!" She says, walking beside you into the classroom. "But we have to try to be semi good at it- and that's not going so well." She just nudges you. "Well I already know you have fun anyway." She winks. Making your eyes roll.

"Don't you just wonder what she will be wearing today." - "You're annoying you know that?" She shrugs with a smile. "I know you love meee." As you entered the room. You spot her. The teacher of this specific class. She was beautiful and you most definitely had a crush on the woman. Was it silly? Maybe, but it was the only good thing about this class. Like Claudia was teasing to you about before. Today Ms O'Connell was wearing something very casual. A brown striped jacket with a collared white shirt underneath. Her hair was down today and she just looked so good. You sat down in your usual seats.

Ms O'Connell then starts for today. Explaining a few things, you honestly had no interest in them. But you just couldn't help staring at her. You then hear your name being called pulling you out of whatever trance you were in. "Y/n? You listening love?" You swallow discreetly, trying to not make it obvious how nervous she made you. You'd never let it fully show. Besides she talked to all the students that way. "Yes, sorry just tubed out for a sec. I'm listening." You replied sweetly, really not wanting to get in trouble. Or maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She nods in reply, continuing.

It wasn't as if you voluntarily put yourself out there, you never asked questions but for some reason she seemed to ask you all the questions, why? You were just writing something down when she eventually approaches you. "Can we speak after this lesson?" She asked you so softly, you thought youd die right there. You nod. Feeling tingles going throughout your body.

That time, was now. You were packing up your things as everyone else leaved, you go over to her, but not as close. Which confused her slightly. "You wanted to see me Miss?" Her head tilts. "You can come closer. I don't bite." Her pretty smile was then to be seen, you reluctantly go closer. "I've noticed the past few lessons you've been distracted." Uh oh. "Are you sleeping ok? You so look a little tired recently. Everything alright?" The way she's checking up on you makes you want to pounce at her and kiss her beautiful lips. But your mind remains, trying to calm it down. And it was slightly true, you always struggled to sleep but that's just been a thing ever since you were a kid.

"It's ok, I'm fine just not a huge sleeper?" You admit, but there was a concerned look on her face. "As long as you're ok." You nod, suspecting the conversation was done going to leave, but she grabs your arm gently. You look at her, into her eyes. Your nerves coming right back. "I'm always here if you need anything yeah? If you need to talk." And there you were again, in a compelling trance. Her eyes were like a spell. Your heart rate picks up, at the feeling of her hand on your arm.

Little did you know, she saw it all. The way you looked at her didn't go unnoticed by the woman. And little did you know. This was just the start of something, so crazy.

It was now Friday, music class yet again. And you couldn't stop thinking about that interaction, the way her hand held onto your arm, her blue eyes casting a spell on your own. You even slept better that night as silly as that may sound. Maybe she was like a comfort? You walk in with Claud, going to your normal spot. Ms hottie (as you liked to call her in your head.) Was wearing something interesting today. It was another collared shirt, with faint lines. Paired with a sleevless jacket ontop. She had a cap on, and those sexy glasses. You loved whenever she wore them.

She admitted to the class that she didn't need them she just enjoyed wearing them. And your immediate thought was hot. So every time she wears them you freak out a little inside. You listened to her voice, speaking, singing. God she was everything. You had told Claudia about the other day and she just made you more delusional about it, saying...

"Oh my god, what if she likes you."

"She was so teasing you with the bite comment."

"She knows."

It had been driving you nuts, like she was a little person in your head repeating those sentences. And here you were yet again, not focusing. Ms O'Connell looks over at you but staying quiet this time round.

There was no doubt about how bored you were, but it wasn't long to go thankfully. For the class and the rest of the year. You honestly couldn't wait to be done for good, this was the last year. Once the lesson was over you go to pack up your things, when you hadn't realized your other books had fallen out of your bag. You sigh, going to bend down to your knees to pick them up. Everyone was leaving, and it was just you and her. You stand once you collect yourself and your things, turning around but only to be met with those beautiful blue eyes.

You gasp, had you of been expecting she was right behind you. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to startle you." You flash her your sweet smile. "It's ok!" She looks over your body, slowly. Hm. Unusual. Unusually hot. "You seem to fade into space alot. Is that normal?" She asks. Referring to you being distracted earlier. Her eyes keep roaming around your body, landing on your eyes... Then your lips. Continuing that motion til she settles on your eyes. "A little yeah, big daydreamer." You laugh a little, nervously. "What do you tend to think about?"

You. You. You. Your brain chants. "Things." Her head casually tilts, but it goes straight to your head. Or maybe your aching core. Because that was way too hot. You swallow, audibly. A tiny smirk plays on her lips. "What's the matter?" She asks with slight concern but her smirk overpowers any of that sympathy. You felt like for the first time you couldn't speak to her, your words gone. "Hm?" She asks with such a velvety smooth tone. You wanted to whine, it's as if she knew what she was doing. Making you feel such a way. But that's impossible, right? You pluck up some confidence. When she gets closer to you before you could speak. "Kinda glad this is your last class for today." Your brows furrow. What? "W-why-?" You then ask, widening your eyes at how pathetic it came out.

"Because, I get to do something that I've been wanting to for soooo long." Your breath becomes quicker, unsteady. Similar to your legs. "Please." You breathe out, too into your own thoughts to care about how wrong this situation may be. In broad daylight. Her lips come softly onto your own, so incredibly slow. Your tongues eventually mingle together, tasting the sudden desire against one another. She pulls back going to swipe her thumb against your lip. Staring at them. You felt dizzy, weak. No way you just kissed her. "Things. I didn't know that was my new name." She looks into your eyes again. Darker, sexy. Fuck. You thought. Her hands reach for yours going to take you into her secluded office.

She shuts and locks the door. Approaching you. "I see the way you look at me angel, I'm very aware." You swallow, louder than the last time. "Just know those daydreams have you soaked huh?" She pouts slightly, in a mocking sense. Your head reluctantly nods. Looking into her eyes, she backs you up against the desk. "Then you must know just how much I daydream of you." Your eyes grew bigger, did she really just say that? No way... Her hands rest on your thighs, face leaning closer to yours. Moving slowly to your ear. "May I show you, pretty girl?" Your breath catches in your throat before you reply, breathlessly. "Please do." Her smirk returns.

Grabbing your hand again and leading you around to her chair, eventually getting you to sit on her lap. Your hands rest on her shoulders. Hers gliding up and down the sides of your body. "Just want a little taste of what I've been mindlessly thinking of, yeah?" Whatever the fuck that meant you didn't care, nodding nonetheless. Her hands then grip your hips, manhandling you so your cunt is directly over her thigh. The change makes you gasp slightly considering you hadn't expected that. Your hands grip her shoulders as your underwear is met with the rough material of her pants. Having your skirt semi out of the way. "Thin. Wet." She says inches away from your face. You bite your lip as you both hold eye contact. The way her glasses sit on her face making it 10x better.

This woman. She's driving you mental. Were you dreaming or something? She begins to slowly move you on her thigh, making your first noise come beautifully past your lips. "Good, you know how to use your voice." She says, averting her eyes to you and her thigh. "You gunna make a mess on ne sweet girl?" Your eyes shut as her movements quicken, feeling your brain fog over with a euphoric sensation. "M-more.." You blurt out. "More she says?" Billie chuckles deliciously. (Like at the end of guess 😵) "Angel wants more, how very sweet." You gulp. "P-please?" Your soft voice made her go nuts. She wanted so badly to ruin you right here right now. But she resisted for the time being. "And she asks sooo-" Her movements speed up, causing your eyes to pop, jaw agape. "-nicely."

Your head lulls back as you feel it coming, the way your clit was throbbing against her rapidly. Soon after feeling that tightness, only to be met with that sticky necter. All over her thigh. She hums in approval. Letting you fall against her, head landing in the crook of her neck. Your breathing slowly coming back to you as her hand rubs gently over the skin of your arm. "That's why you're my favorite."

After a minute or two you come back to reality. Not the right reality but your senses turn back on. She swiftly tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. Smiling at you gently, thinking for you second before taking her hat off and plopping it on your head. She looks at you so lovingly, now seeing that compassion in her eyes. It made you melt, softly putting your hands on her face. Hers latch delicately over your wrists, soon grabbing your hand and kissing it tenderly. This was wrong, not because of any age, but because she was your teacher. Did you really care tho? Hardly. Once you leave it's not like it'd matter. But oh fuck it felt too good.

"Go clean up darling, I'll see you on Wednesday." She then winks, as you leave the classroom. And all your mind could say was.

Oh.

My.

God.

Pt 2 will be out soon. ;)

[rockrosethistle]

If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.

[cameronluvr]

EXES BEST FRIEND — topper thornton x fem reader + rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: rafe is your ex boyfriend and you decide to get revenge on him by sleeping with his best friend topper at a party, but you didn’t expect him to walk in on you both…

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, cuss words, smut, semi public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, toxic!rafe, arguing, getting walked in on, yelling etc

MY MASTERLIST / RAFE MASTERLIST

you and rafe broke up three months ago after a two year long relationship. it was toxic to say the least, rafe was abusive and controlling and everything he did ruined your self esteem, until you finally gained the courage to dump him and move on.

earlier this week, you were invited to a figure 8 house party by a kook boy who was interested in one of your friends, who was also going, of course. now it’s the night of the party, and you and your friends managed to get a few pre drinks in at your house before heading over there.

you and your three friends tipsily stumble into the party hand in hand with each other as you laugh and head through the crowded house over to the kitchen, where you grab some more drinks to get the night properly started. all four of you had began to settle into the party with booze in your hands on the dance floor, dancing with each other and singing along to the songs playing.

as more time went by, the more alcohol entered your systems. one of your friends had somehow ended up making out with a boy in the middle of the crowd, and another friend was talking to a girl she recognized from high school, which left you and the last friend alone.

“wanna go get another drink?” you ask her, raising your voice over the booming music. “yeah” she says, grabbing your hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen again. just as you grab another bottle from the crate and crack it open, you turn around and gasp at the sight of your ex boyfriend. “jesus…” you say, putting your hand on your chest as your friend stands beside you.

“hey y/n, what’s up” rafe says in a nice tone which makes you frown in suspicion. rafe couldn’t be nice if he tried to be, there’s always underlying tones to his voice, mainly sarcasm and pity.

“she’s fine, thank you.” your friend answers for you, knowing you didn’t have much to say to him. she shoots him a sarcastic smile which made him look at her and grin.

“oh, she don’t talk anymore, huh?” rafe asks, glancing at you before looking back at your friend. “not to you, no” she scoffs a laugh, which made him laugh at her. “oooh, feisty one your friend is, ain’t she?” rafe sarcastically says to you with that stupid mocking grin he does.

“go away, rafe.” you roll your eyes and grab your friends hand before walking away from him. “awh, i liked you better when you weren’t a stuck up bitch” rafe says to your friend to piss her off, which made her turn around and stop in her tracks, making you do the same.

“do you really have to be a dick right now?” you raise your voice and eyebrows at his audacity. “oh, she speaks!” rafe sarcastically exclaims, raising his arms. your eyes dart onto topper and kelce stood behind rafe, who were looking right at you with stupid grins on their faces to wind you up.

you give them no notice because they want to see you all riled up, that’s all rafe ever wants. you ignore him completely and grab your friend again, pulling her toward the other room again. “i can see your ass cheeks, ‘guess you really are just a slut after all” rafe says to you which made you groan and yell “fuck off” without stopping or turning around, hearing all three boys giggle like girls at your reaction as you walk out of the kitchen.

“ugh. what a stupid fucking asshole” you vent to your friend. “honestly, fuck him. he’s a prick. you should totally get on someone tonight, ‘would totally piss him off” your friend suggests with a giggle to lighten your mood, making you smile a bit. “i don’t know…” you sigh before you both return to your other two friends who were now both dancing with boys. “fair enough” you shrug, laughing it off as you and your friend resume dancing and drinking to take your mind off things.

another thirty minutes went by, drink after drink, and you found yourself wandering away from your friends and chatting to a random bunch of strangers out in the hallway. you needed to pee really badly, and you had no idea where any of your friends were, so you head up the stairs alone to find a bathroom.

it’s much quieter upstairs with a few odd people going in and out of bedrooms and up and down the stairs. you began searching for the bathroom when you found it, opening the door and stepping inside. when you close the door and turn around, you gasp and jump at the unexpected sight of someone in the bathroom with you.

“shit… sorr— topper?” you quickly apologize, realizing it was rafe’s best friend. “what are you doing? get out” topper says in a mean tone, giving you daggers as he zips up his pants. “i need to pee? you get out” you say to him, noticing he was done using the toilet.

“no, i was in here first” topper scoffs, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “great, well you’re done now, so leave” you smile with a fake sweet tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest to wait. “don’t care. wait your turn, don’t come in here demanding” he rolls his eyes, turning off the faucet and drying his hands on himself.

“fine. i’ll just go. i don’t care” you shrug, the alcohol giving you confidence as you walk over to the toilet and pull your panties down from underneath your dress, “what are you doing?” topper frowns, looking at you as if you’re crazy. “going pee, what does it look like?” you ask, laughing as you sit down to pee with him right in front of you.

he doesn’t answer, he only rolls his eyes at you, trying not to look at any private part of yours. he doesn’t make a move for the door, he just stands there kinda watching you with a weird look on his face. you two never really got along so well in the past, with him constantly being on rafe’s side each time you argued. “see? you could’ve left but you didn’t—”

“because i was in here first.” you both bicker as you finish peeing, wrapping toilet paper over your hand to wipe yourself. he didn’t particularly watch you do it, but it was definitely in his vision. when you were done, you flush the toilet and wash your hands, all while topper is still in the bathroom.

“great, look at that, we’re both done. who’s getting the fuck out first?” you ask, giving him a sarcastic look. “i’m staying here” topper says, “okay. well i’m staying here too.” you say to piss him off, seeing him roll his eyes. “not much to do in a bathroom…” he shrugs. “why do you wanna stay here then?” you frown.

“why do you wanna stay here?” he asks the same question you did. “to annoy you.” you shrug and giggle, both of you in a pretty drunk state. “right. typical of you” he scoffs, seeing you reach into your purse and grabbing your lipstick. “mhm” you hum as you turn around to face the mirror, opening your lipstick and reapplying some.

“y’know, you already look like a whore so that lipstick isn’t going to change anything” he says rudely, making you scoff at his reflection in the mirror. “maybe i wanna be a whore” you shrug, focusing on applying the lipstick and rubbing your lips together, all while you lean over the sink counter with your ass cheeks hanging out of your short dress.

you see his eyes dart down to your ass in the mirror’s reflection, making you smirk and poke your butt out a little more, seeing him still looking. “if i’m such a whore, why’re you looking at me like that, hm?” you ask in a bratty tone, placing your lipstick aside and turning around to fully face him, his eyes now looking back up into yours.

“you can’t wear a dress like that and expect me not to look.” he says, looking you up and down which brings tension. “why? is it too much for you?” you tilt your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “yeah. y’look hot.” he says, his drunken state allowing him to forget that you’re his best friend’s ex and this is wrong.

“yeah? you want me to take it off?” you ask, your tone more soft and flirty now as you look at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “i mean…” he drags suggestively, making you laugh. “come take it off me then…” you offer, slowly grinning as you see the look on his face. he wants to devour you.

he doesn’t hesitate to take a step closer to you, your bodies just inches apart as the tension grows thicker. “don’t you have friends to get back to?” he asks, “don’t you?” your head tilts. “i asked you first” he says, stepping closer and reaching his hand down to your waist, pulling you closer.

“i have no idea where my friends are. the last i seen em’ they were busy kissing some guys downstairs.” you shrug, cozying up to him as your body gets comfortable being so close to his. “weird. i thought you would’ve been doing exactly that.” he jokes, acting like you’re the slutty friend out of your group.

“well i am… just upstairs” you grin, wrapping your arms behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss you, your lips immediately crashing onto each others. the kiss turned deep fast, with both of your hands roaming one another’s bodies, his hands slid down to your ass where he grabbed both cheeks, making you giggle and stand on your tip toes. “you like that?” he asks, breaking the kiss for air.

“mhm,” you hum, pulling him back in for another kiss. you hate to admit it but you haven’t been with anyone since rafe, you haven’t been kissed, touched or fucked by another guy since. you were too afraid to jump into new relationships or bond with new guys just in case they were as toxic and crazy as he was, he definitely turned you off men for a while…

the kiss began to get heated as your hand trailed down to his crotch to tease him, feeling him get hard as he twirls his fingers around the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your thighs. your dress is still on, but it is raised to give him more access. you let him continue as you feel your panties drop to the floor, making you gasp and giggle.

his fingers instantly begin rubbing your wet pussy, making you moan into the kiss. “fuck…” he says, breathing heavily as he pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting for air as he backs you up onto the countertop, slightly lifting you up to sit on it with your ass cheeks hanging off the edge.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, your hands cupping his face. his lips are inches away from yours as his hands grip the sides of your thighs. “you’re so hot…” he says, both of you drunk and lost in horniness. “you’re hot” you say, glancing down at his lips then back into his eyes. he takes this as a sign to kiss you again, so he does.

his hand rubs your pussy again, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness. “y’wanna fuck?” he asks, pulling away while his fingers toy with your clit, making you moan. “yeah…”

“i don’t have any condoms—”

“i don’t care, i’m on the pill” you cut him off, too horny to even give a fuck about extra protection. he smirks in response before making out with you again, your hands gripping the back of his t-shirt to pull it off and throw it on the floor.

topper has a great body, you couldn’t help but look down at his toned abs and almost drool at the sight. his removes his hands from you to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slightly along with his boxers. “i’m so hard” he pants, pulling his head away to look down at himself. “yeah? i’m so wet… fuck me…” you smirk, biting your lip as you tighten your legs around his waist, motioning for him to bring his dick to you.

without hesitation he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting your leg. fuck, he was so big it made you wetter immediately. you lift your legs up some more, shifting your ass in an angle which easier for him to enter you. he grabs his dick and lines it up with your entrance, pushing the tip against it and hearing you gasp.

“fuck… you ready?” he asks, making you grin. he’s actually sweet when it comes to sex, he’s much less forceful and aggressive than rafe was. he asks questions instead of instantly going for what he wants. he respects you which makes you realize maybe not all guys are so bad.

“yeah” you nod, making eye contact with him as he slowly enters you, the both of you gasping at the feeling. “fuck… oh my god” you moan, throwing your head back as more of him enters you, filling you right up with his big cock. “look at me… i wanna look at your pretty face” he says, using his hand to gently pull your head back up.

hearing his words gave you butterflies in your belly and your pussy, his compliments and soft touches making you melt. “top…” you moan, clutching your arms around the back of his neck as your legs move with his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

“shiiit…” he groans, his pace getting rougher with each stroke. you make eye contact and kiss each other a few times before his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck, where he sucks and bites on your skin. you unwrap your hands from around him and grip his shoulders instead, moaning as he thrusts hard.

you drunkenly fuck on the countertop for a while, kissing and giving each other hickeys. the eye contact he holds with you is insane. you couldn’t help but think about how different he was to rafe, given that he was the only guy you’d ever been with up until now. no matter how drunk you were, you will definitely not forget about this moment and how every thrust felt, every kiss, every little touch on your body…

“fuck… you feel so good,” you moan, looking at your lipstick stain all over topper’s mouth and giggling at it. “what?” he asks breathily, seeing you point at his mouth. he looks up into the mirror above your head and chuckles. “look at yours” he says, helping you turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged around your mouth. you both chuckle and you turn back around to face him, pulling him in for another kiss with as his hands play with your tits above your dress. you didn’t take it off, neither of you wanted to be too exposed being at a crowded party and all.

you went at it for a couple more minutes, moaning each other’s names and exploring each others bodies and mouths. the music downstairs was so loud that it boomed and echoed through the entire house, not allowing you to hear anything else from outside the bathroom, not even the footsteps coming up the stairs…

both of you were so lost in each other that it took a moment to realize that there were male voices just outside the door, “yeah, hold on” one guy says as he opens the door to the bathroom, needing to use it. both you and topper quickly turn your head in that direction to be met with rafe.

shit, you thought… you didn’t actually expect rafe to be the one person to walk in on you. “yo, what the fuck?” rafe says after pausing for a second and immediately getting angry. “rafe—” you say, but he cuts you off with a laugh as he shows kelce outside the door what was happening, but by now topper was already out of you and had his pants back up, and you had jumped off the counter to pull your dress down. “are you fucking for real?” rafe yells with amusement on his face, pointing at you and topper with an angry laugh as kelce says “yo…” in shock.

“rafe bro—” topper tries to speak but rafe doesn’t let him. “nah, are you serious?” rafe amuses angrily, still in disbelief of what he saw. “you come up here to fuck my ex? what the fuck?” rafe pipes up, pointing at himself before fully entering the bathroom, kelce still stood at the doorway. “rafe he’s—” you try to say, but rafe shushes you. “nuh uh, you shut the fuck up, i don’t wanna hear shit from your whore ass” rafe insults, yelling at you which made you flinch a little.

“rafe calm down bro” topper says, attempting to reach down to grab his t-shirt from the floor but rafe stops him and shoves him back. “don’t” you warn your ex with stern eyes, making him laugh. “ohhh, oh i see, you two fuckin’ each other now huh?” rafe jokes, looking over at kelce for backup. “no it’s not like that” you say, topper looking back at you as you briefly stand behind him, your panties still lying on the floor as you were too afraid to bend down and pick them up due to exposure.

“oh, it’s not?” he asks, getting aggressive as he yells in your face, his fists clenching in rage. “bro it was just a spur of the moment…” topper quickly tries defending himself, but rafe turns to look at him, “topper shut the fuck up bro before i beat your ass” he threatens.

“you— you’re just a fucking stupid slut, going for my friends? really?” rafe asks you, making out like this was entirely your fault. “well maybe don’t be such a rude asshole” you shrug, playing it off. now that you think about it, you really don’t care if you upset him or not. he deserves to feel betrayed by his ex and his best friend, he did nothing but bully you.

“really?—”

“yeah, really! you’re a fucking dick and topper here is better than you ever were,” you argue, not caring if you flash yourself as you bend down to snatch your underwear from the floor, shoving them back on. “really?” rafe laughs angrily, “yeah. and bigger, too.” you blurt out, shoving past him to storm out of the bathroom. those last words really ticked him off because you could hear him and topper screaming and yelling at each other as you head down the stairs.

part of you felt bad for leaving topper, but he deserves this, too. all throughout your relationship with rafe, topper was rude to you. he always backed rafe up when you two fought, always insulted you when rafe did, made fun of you like rafe did… tonight you saw a different side of topper, an affectionate and sweet side. maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time, but who cares? hopefully this’ll ruin their friendship for messing with you.

you rush back to the living room in hopes to find your friends, and luckily you found two of them. “girls… we need to leave” you snicker, trying to hide your laugh. “why?” one yells over the music. “i just fucked topper” you giggle.

“what?!”

“you did what?!”

both friends gasp and widen their eyes. “i fucked topper and rafe walked in” you couldn’t help but laugh in excitement thinking about how much this’ll affect rafe. “oh my god!”

“i know, right?” you laugh as the two of your friends reach over to your third and final friend in the crowd to pull her out. “we’re leaving, let’s go” one says to her, seeing her frown. “why?” she asks, just as you see rafe walking down the stairs, probably trying to find you. “that’s why… come on” you say, pointing at rafe as the four of you quickly move through the crowd and dart for the door, all running out and laughing.

“girl, you’re crazy” one of the girls says to you as you all make it to the end of the driveway and pant for air. “i know… and he’ll kill me if we don’t get the fuck outta’ here” you drunkenly laugh, thinking of the situation as funny more than anything else.

all four of you head down the road and back in the direction of your house where you were prior to the party. “what the hell happened?” your third friend asks, looking at you with a frown. “she fucked topper.” another replies for you. “what? seriously? damn… rafe knows?” she widens her eyes. “rafe saw, he walked in” you giggle, seeing the shocked expression on her face. “holy shit…”

on the walk back home, you tell them all in detail what happened despite you stumbling your words drunkly. all you could think about now was what rafe was doing. was he hurt? did he feel betrayed? you can only hope so.

NOT PROOFREAD. this has been in my drafts for SO long but i only just finished it😭 i hope u guys enjoy!!!! <3 FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

english is not my first language so please feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes ◡̈

@cameronluvr

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[eufezco]

NIGHT RIDES WITH LOGAN༄

logan x afab!reader (smut) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

logan spends all day working and you get bored.

when he finally gets home at night he is too tired to do anything but collapse in your bed, between your arms and with your hands caressing his hair. you want to spend some time with him, you miss his company, but you know that work drains all his energy and you would never hold it against him, he did everything he could to provide for the four of you. so you eventually found a way to spend some time with logan.

you booked his limousine.

the first time his brow furrowed in confusion as you opened the door to get into the car. —what are you doing here?

—wanted to spend some time with you.

—you know this makes me loose fucking money.

—you can put in the app that you're free, i won't be a bother, i promise.

and logan huffs but agrees because he's upset but at the same time it's comforting to have you there. he starts driving and you start talking, and he listens, smiles and hums to everything you say. he likes to listen to you and how you have the need to tell him about every thought that goes through your head.

and you turn up the radio a little and hum and sing all the songs while logan is focused on driving but you can see how his fingers tap the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. he's happy to have you there with him.

and sometimes logan drives with a hand on your thigh, caressing and squeezing the inside of it or taking your hand and putting it on the shifter under his. other times you have your feet on his lap while logan drives, innocently at first, but then you start to rub his crotch with them and he looks at your feet and then he looks at you, looking back at him as if you were doing nothing.

so logan has to park in the darkest alley he knows and fuck you dumb in the back seats. he has you sitting with your legs spread open, knees to your chest, and his body between them as his hips slam into you. may not seem to be the most comfortable position, but remember it's a limousine so you have all the space you need.

it's even better when you ride him. you straddle him and his big hands are on your hips, helping you to bounce on his cock. he grunts and pants into your mouth. he spanks your ass, sucks on your nipples, and looks at you in awe, with parted lips trying to control his breathing as you ride him with your eyes closed shut and your hands on his chest.

there comes a moment when your legs start shaking, your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders and your movements become more desperate, you can't stop moaning and by the way, you're squeezing his cock, logan knows you're about to cum. so he starts bucking his hips upwards to meet yours. and the limousine is moving, the windows are fogging up and you are sure that they can hear from outside the car.

one night he was driving these girls to this party and you were sitting quietly in the passenger seat. the girls were drinking and having the time of their lives in the back of the limousine, laughing and dancing to the music. and all of a sudden one of them called logan and flashed her tits to him through the rearview mirror.

you clenched your jaw, turned around, threw yourself at her, and pulled from her hair. you slapped her and she slapped you back, and logan had to stop the car and get in the middle of the fight. he apologized and offered the girls the ride for free, also they were drunk enough to not care too much. you sat in the passenger seat with your cheek burning and blood coming out of your nose until he dropped the girls at the party. then he used the alcohol he had in his glove compartment to clean your wound.

other night logan stopped driving so you could get a snack. when you got out of the limousine and started walking to the store, a random man slapped your ass. logan never felt so much anger before. he got out with his fists clenched and punched the man so hard that he broke his own knuckles.

—you can't do that, you know how much it takes for you to heal...

he grunted as you wrapped his knuckles with a bandage. he didn’t care, he’d do it again.

and there are nights when it gets very late and logan still has a couple of hours of work but you can't keep it up any longer so you lean your head against the window and fall asleep. logan can't watch you sleep so uncomfortably so he quickly drives home and carries you in his arms to your bed. you hum when he picks you up and he mumbles the sweetest things for you to not wake up.

—sh, it's okay, i got you. you're home, baby, you need to sleep and i'll be with you before you know.

he tucks you into your shared bed and kisses your forehead before he leaves. you hum when you feel his lips. —love you, lo.

—love you too, baby.

and when he gets back to the car he rubs his face to clear his mind because he'd have loved to get into bed and sleep with you but sadly he has to continue working. he opens the glove compartment to take a sip of his alcohol and when he does, he finds your panties, crumpled into a small ball waiting for him.

he takes them and he can feel how wet they are thanks to his cum mixing with your juices. logan brings them close to his face and takes a deep breath. then he puts them inside his pocket. —you're gonna be the fucking death of me.