#and THEN i heard people were upset because she was a girl

[ierr]

reverse comfort // katsuki bakugo

↳ summary you distance yourself from bakugo because you’re self conscious about being together, but he comforts you.

a.n HELLO EVERYONEEEEE, I have good news for you all!! the server is completed!! if you would like to join, the link will be down below!! enjoy.

DISCORD SERVER

you were more distant then normal. always dodging him in the office, keeping conversations short, it started to piss him off by the days went by of you acting like this. many times when you both were alone he would try to ask what's wrong, but you would always dodge the question by asking him a question, or simply excusing yourself from the room. there was something bothering you, he could tell by the way you're acting, and how tense you are around him. he squinted his eyes in frustration with arms crossed as he saw you talking to one of the police officers about a situation with a villain that happened not so long ago, you looked more "comfortable" as you were standing next to him talking. you could practically feel his glare on you, but not wanting to make anything obvious since they’re cameras around, you continued to ignore him as you chatted with the officer.

It was starting to piss him off.

he wanted to figure out what was wrong with you, but you would simply avoid everytime. you felt his eyes glaring at you from the back of your head shivering from the attention, but keeping your composer as you talked to the police officer. when the day came to an end, it was only you, and katsuki in the building considering you are his personal assistant, and on top of that you live with him so he's your ride home. when you were packing up your stuff to get ready to go you felt hands wrap around your waist pulling you close to their body. the familiar warmth..comfort..cologne..it made you tense a little averting your eyes to make sure no one else was here. feeling you tense up in his arms made him groan, "why have you been avoiding me." he asked in a rough, but soft tone, caressing along your hips hearing you sigh, "I haven't been—" — "don't lie to me." you stopped talking, sucking in a breath staying quiet. hearing your silence only made him more frustrated, he frowned pulling back a little to turn you around, now facing him.

you guys haven't been this close in the past few days. you missed his touches.."is there something you're not telling me?." you frowned looking away from him, you were too embarrassed to say what was bothering you..seeing you stay quiet for the second time he frowned, "did I do something?." almost immediately you shook your head stepping closer to him, "no!— no..of course you didn't it's just.." you paused with a deep sigh, for the past week or two you've overheard a lot of conversation about his fans speaking about his girlfriend..aka you. they don't know who he's dating, but there has been photos leaked to the public. luckily your face is blurred in all of them. one day when you were coming back home from getting dinner that night you had over heard a conversation. you were used by now with all his fans calling him attractive or whatever, but what shocked you was the way they were speaking about you. technically.

"I bet she's not even cute.." — "ugh..dynamite is too good for her!." and so on so fourth. you were already feeling a bit self conscious about being with a pro, so hearing these things made you even more self esteemed. you groaned, “it’s stupid..” you said feeling embarrassed about it, but sighing you groaned. “the other day..I overheard these two girls talking about you, and “technically” me.” as you told him what happened, his face scrunched up in annoyance. not at the fact you’re upset, but the fact that people really have the nerve to care about someone who they don’t know love life. after you finished telling him it was silent, but katsuki sighed pulling you closer to him, slightly towering over you. “look at me.” is what he said, looking at him, “who gives a fuck about what others say. they don’t know you, and they sure as hell don’t know me. don’t let em’ get to ya head dummy.” he said flicking your head in a playful matter, glaring at him. “I love you idiot, if anything bothers you, talk to me. don’t distant yourself.” he furrowed his eyebrows, nodding your head. you do admit, you shouldn’t have distant yourself from him considering it wasn’t his fault. that same night, you guys made dinner together like always, and went to bed, but what you didn’t expect while you were sleeping soundly next to him he decided to do the unexpected.

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme 4 -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

wc: 9.9k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 2/2/25 12:30 pm est.

masterlist ~ <- previous part - next part ->

Standing in the middle of the dance floor, sweaty, drunk bodies bumping into you, you peer up from your phone and attempt to accept the fact that Aurora walked away from you. That she left you alone. That what you had done, or been caught doing, had upset her, had hurt her.

A conversation shared between you and Yunho, nothing more, not even a singular touch, a mere brush to a shoulder. You spoke words, you heard some you weren’t expecting to hear, he shared things with you that you should take directly to your boyfriend because it meant that maybe somehow, someway, their relationship was fixable.

He was over in the corner, where Aurora escaped to. They were all over there. You couldn’t see them over the crowd, the people dancing, but they were there. And you wished nothing more than to be able to walk out of here without any of them spotting you. Not one ounce of your being longed to push through the sea of bodies to join the group, but you knew you had to.

Mingi was over there, and you really should be the first one to tell him you spoke with Yunho. After what’s happened within the last few days you weren’t sure your relationship could withstand another hit before one wasn’t even fully patched up. You’d fix it. You would take the time to fix it, you had to talk to him, had to work it out, let him know that everything was good, that you two were okay, that everything would be alright, that you would make it through this, that it was you and him, Tori and Mingi.

Tears brimmed your eyes, but you blinked them away, tipping your chin up so they wouldn’t roll down your cheeks like one already had.

You took a peek at your phone screen and the message on it. Turning around, searching for Jongseob, he was still at the table with his friends. Continuing in a circle, twirling perfectly under the dim lights, you spotted the back of Yunho’s head still sitting at the bar. Locking your phone, you shoved it back into your purse and sighed. 

Whoever this was, you were going to catch them, for no reason other than to get rid of the feeling within you. The need to know. Whoever it was, they knew you, because your curiosity overwhelmed you.

Lurking back toward the corner, stepping around people too wrapped up in their own drama to pay attention to you, your arm grazed over Mingi’s where he stood at the end of the bar, his large frame leaning against it. The boys stood around him, Wooyoung, Yeosang, who gave you a wave, Seonghwa, Soul, Jongho, they all had a drink in their hands, even the twenty year old. Across from them, tucked away in the booth mere inches from where the boys stood, the girls squished together, and your stomach sunk. 

On the end, facing Jongho with her attention turned to Keni and Jeongyeon, Yuna sat with her legs crossed, her fingers tracing lines in the glass she acquired from the bar earlier, still half full. You’ve finished a whole other one by now. She smiled with Keni, nudging her arm as they spoke, doing her absolute best to make sure that the two newest within the group felt welcomed, felt like they belonged. Keni’s been around since the start of junior year, but her and Yeosang’s relationship was fresh, much like Yuna and Jongho’s, and Jongyeon and Ryujin, who had an Aurora under her arm at the other end of the rounded booth.

Appearing in the dim light, some of it flashing over you, Ryujin glanced your way, her brows in a straight line, her hand grasping Aurora’s arm tight. From beside you, Mingi watched, looking down at you, you could feel his eyes. He wanted you to look back at him, but there were more serious matters at hand. 

You needed to talk to Aurora before she told any of them.

You also had to come up with a better argument as to why you sat down next to him and talked to him.

Closure didn’t cut it, at least not with Aurora.

Truthfully, you didn’t even want the closure. You wanted things to go back to the way they were, Yunho should be over here, not at the bar by himself wallowing in miserableness while the rest of you laughed the night away without him.

“Here!” Jeongyeon shouted over the music, flinging her arm in front of Ryujin and Aurora, a phone in her hand. Both girls glanced at it. “It’s Isla,” she said, and they gasped at once.

Pulling her arm off of Aurora, Ryujin snatched her cell phone and opened the messages, typing back to her best friend. Yours smiled at the phone for a second, then fled to the safety of her apparent boyfriend's arms, using Seonghwa’s chest for leverage as she almost veered sideways on her way to Wooyoung’s outstretched hand that beckoned her closer.

The spot beside Ryujin was free, calling your name.

Peeking to your left, Mingi smiled at you, perking a questioning brow as the softness slowly bled into a sly smirk. Taking a breath, you gave him the smallest smile, then hurried into Ryujin’s side, bumping into her, making her bump into her girlfriend. 

Leaning towards her, trying to catch a glimpse at the screen, the messages they were sending that had everything to do with Vernon, or how she was doing, or what their travel was like, you bit down on your lip, and asked, “How’d you do it?”

Ryujin sent a message. “Do what?”

“Adjust,” you gestured to her phone.

She shot you a look, her round face incredibly confused beneath her piecey bangs. “To Vernon?”

“No,” you breathed through a laugh, then thought about it. “Maybe.” There’d been more to it than boyfriends, girlfriends, anything of that sort. “To all of it,” you said, meeting her gaze, “Her leaving, the way she left…”

“You think she’s adjusted?” Jeongyeon leaned toward you over her girlfriend's lap. Ryujin tipped her chin back, shook her head and laughed.

You wanted to smile, but it wouldn’t manifest. “So, it never ends?”

Ryujin scoffed, looking over at you. “It’s not that it never ends, it gets easier, you just gotta… Focus on what you do have.”

“And that happened with Isla?” you asked with a raise of your brows. “You focused on what you do have and you magically got over everything that happened to us?” Jeongyeon focused on her girlfriend, sliding an arm around her back to hold her while Ryujin studied you.

“What goes on Tor? Asking for a friend?” She attempted to read you, but you knew with Ryujin that it was hard for her to do that with any of you that weren’t Isla.

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “Totally.”

She shook her head once. “I didn’t get over it, it sucks. I miss her every damn day, but she’s happy. She’s safe. Am I supposed to make her feel bad for doing what’s best for her just because I get sad that she’s not here?”

Her words struck you across the face. Keeping the feeling within you, not letting it leak outward, you frowned. “No, I just… I don’t know.”

“She’s sick,” Ryujin said in a way to back up what she said, not to insinuate that you didn’t know. Everyone knew. “I have to put that first. And, I can still talk to her whenever I want. I know she’s okay, she’s with Vernon, she’s with DK. Our time at Nasara with Isla is over, my time at Nasara is over, it’s time to move on.”

Your lips parted, and she waited patiently for you to speak. It took you a few seconds, but you managed to whisper, “What if I don’t wanna move on?”

She answered fast, like she somehow knew what you were going to say, her head jerking around with a sureness to it. “Personally, I don’t wanna stay stuck in a place that made me miserable. It’s cliche, but that chapter is closed. I have Jeongyeon, I have a job, I have you, I have them,” she gestured to the group in front of her, the girls beside her, “I gotta hold onto you guys, I can’t make it to the next step without you. So, yeah, I miss Isla, I miss last year, and the year before that, but if I want to feel better, I have to keep going. Gotta protect what I do have in front of me.” She held your heavy gaze, both of your eyes wide, full of genuinity. “If I stay stuck I risk losing it all. I’m willing to make sacrifices for the people I love.”

Gulping, attempting to swallow away your tears that threatened to spill over once again, you tore your eyes from her and glanced over to Mingi. Smiley Mingi resting against the bar, laughing with his friends, teasing one another, sipping their beers. He caught onto your gaze mid laugh, his grin faltering as he drank in your energy. Eyebrows nestling over his shining eyes, two fingers lifted off of the bottle he held and waved you over to him, your body listening without a second thought.

Melting into him, wrapping your arms around his waist, you laid your head on his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, something steady, something absolute, something real. Taking a step away from the boys with you in tow, he rested his cheek over your hair, his hands slow dancing over your back, smoothing over your arms, tickling then soothing your skin. 

But, I still care, Tori.

His words had made your head dizzy. The longer they stayed there, the worse they felt. You could easily get rid of them by looking up at your boyfriend and telling him, but you couldn’t explain yourself. Not yet. Pressed to his chest you looked over to your friends and sighed. Aurora watched you, her own head pressed to Wooyoung's shoulder, one of his fingers twirling around in her hair while he talked to Jongho. It didn’t kill you, her stare, but you couldn’t figure it out.

I still care.

[ITZ]: did u figure me out 

[you]: no, asshole.

[ITZ]: oh

[you]: how the fuck would i be able to figure you out

[ITZ]: thought it was obvious

[ITZ]: guess i have to try harder now

You slapped your phone down onto your bare thigh startling Yuna who lounged beside you, her legs tangled with your own. Head laid back on the stitched pillows, she groaned and tapped you with a pedicured foot, running her hand over her forehead.

Yeosang and Ryujin may or may not have forced you all into a rally last night soon after you rejoined the group.

Everyone’s here now! Go, go, go! You have to do it, we just graduated, we’re not coming back! Do it!

Yuna’s been a mess since the first round of shots.

“Cheers is a good time, we’ll go back,” Seonghwa’s voice carried into the living room from the kitchen, three of them puttering around in there, eating no doubt. Peering over the back of the sofa you spotted Soul rocking back and forth on his feet behind Seonghwa who faced Hongjoong, the former president in clothes you’d rarely see him in, a plain black t-shirt and shorts. 

Hongjoong had his body turned to Seonghwa, the two with a foot of space between them, their hands going in and out of the bag they snacked from at the same time. “There’s one on the beach called Wave,” he popped his brows, gaze locked on the boy that appeared a foot taller in front of him, “Have you gone there yet?”

Soul gasped, his hands slapping onto the counter. Both boys turned to him, smiles appearing on their faces. “I’ve been there! They won’t card you.”

Hongjoong tilted his head and gave Seonghwa a look. “Course they won’t,” he breathed, the two sharing a laugh. 

Soul beamed. “Me, Seob, Intak, Jiung.” Your nervous system jolted as you looked at him. “We’ve been there so many times, it’s a blacklight bar, it’s so dark, but it gets so hot, it’s kinda small, but so cool.”

Seonghwa gave him a soft smile. “So cool,” he repeated, and Soul nodded.

Then, he looked at you.

“Let’s go tonight,” you said as soon as he met your eyes. 

Yuna groaned from the pillows. “I can’t do another night out, Tor, not in a row.”

You painted your face bored, glaring down at her, one she didn’t see with her eyes screwed shut. “Come on, we should be going out! We’re here, let’s do it.”

Seonghwa hummed, his shoulders shrugging. “We have like two weeks left.”

You shifted your glare over to him and he seemed to match it. “I wanna go,” you said, peeking at Soul who now leaned over the counter on his elbows, watching you. “Soul wants to go.”

“Soul wants to go where?” Aurora asked, bouncing off of the last step of the stairs, sleep all over her face. Wooyoung, her shadow with the hood of his sweatshirt over his tousled waves, didn’t deter from the path written for him by her. 

But he did look at you. 

And it hurt.

“Wave, a bar on the beach,” Seonghwa spoke for the boy, following the couple with his eyes as they wandered through the kitchen, gave mediocre hello’s to Hongjoong and met Souls side.

Yuna tapped you with her foot, pulling your attention from the kitchen. She’d seen Wooyoung’s face. “What was that for?” she asked, brows pulled over her wide eyes. Appeasing her with a subtle shake of your head for now, you turned back to the kitchen. Aurora, at Souls side, nearly pressing herself against him, listened to him with a smile.

“Not just a bar…” He went on and on, and the world moved around him. Seonghwa and Hongjoong ate their snacks, Wooyoung slid an open water bottle in front of Aurora, Yuna watched Soul half impressed. It was the most half of you have probably heard him speak, ever. He spilled stories, moments in time that appeared to make him happy, stories of Jongseob and their friends, the four of them sneaking out of his parents beach house to get plastered under the neon lights half clothed because the air grew so warm. “Tori wants to go tonight,” he ended with a smile flashed in Wooyoung and Aurora’s direction, the two of them posted up on either side of him.

She looked at you, nothing on her face yet.

“San and Hongjoong did just get here, we could give them a night out,” she offered.

Yuna groaned, obnoxious and long. “I can’t do it again!” Her body jolted as she shook herself around, jostling yours with her. “Somebody agree with me, please!” 

You laughed, putting your hands over her ankles to calm her. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

“Maybe one night here won’t kill us,” Aurora said definitively, and all of the energy seemed to be sucked from the room. “We can do Wave another night.” Paralyzed in place, you whipped your head in her direction, instant steam pouring from your ears. As if she could see it, she mirrored your piercing glare. Wooyoung leaned into her, a whisper falling from his lips for only her to hear.

“Amen,” Yuna sighed, going still, relaxing back onto the sofa, her arms going limp off the edge of the cushions.

“Sure, okay,” you scoffed, and no one reacted. They all went about what they were doing before, snacking, sipping water, mumbling to each other, sharing small smiles. “Fuck me, let’s all just do what Aurora says.”

Yuna lifted her head, her lips parting, but no words came out. In the kitchen, Seonghwa paused, his eyes on you. In fact, everyone's eyes were on you, even Hongjoong, the tiniest smirk pulling at his lips.

Her eyes burned. If looks could kill you’d be a goner.

Regret filled your gut, your insides actively spinning in a circle, tangling together, squeezing and pulling.

She opened her mouth, her words like a knife cutting through the air that had grown thick in the worst way. “You can do whatever you want, Tori. You wanna go to Wave? Go to Wave. Free will, clearly you have plenty of it.”

Wooyoung moved behind her, an arm sliding around her front. “Okay,” he whispered, “No, no.” No one else moved, they either stared at you or Aurora, waiting for more. Without another word from her, she let Wooyoung walk her away, she let him hold her metaphorical earrings, ones he put back in by ushering her out of the room.

“What happened?” Yuna asked you within a whisper, sitting up on her elbows. You spared her half a glance before focusing on Soul.

“Oh, you guys have fun,” Hongjoong snickered with a shake of his head.

Souls gaze danced about the room before he said, “So, no Wave?” Seonghwa hit him across the shoulder and the boy cracked a laugh. “Right,” he breathed, then made it a point to look at you and shrug his gangly shoulders. 

The front door swung open and the room fell back to normal in an instant, Yuna sprawled on the couch, the boys in the kitchen chattering away. Leaving the door open behind them, their arms full of cardboard cases and trembling glass bottles, Mingi and Jongho strut through the living room and straight back into the kitchen, Jongho stopping by the couch first to greet his girlfriend, leaning over her to press a kiss to her forehead where she laid, boxes in hand and all. Mingi went to the kitchen.

“We found all they had,” he said to Seonghwa, cocking his head to the side. “They said they’ll have more next week.” Jongho met him at the counter, sliding his box next to Mingi’s.

“That’s fine,” Seonghwa shrugged, taking in what liquor they’ve bought, the beers that still rattled. “They take my card?” Mingi smiled, slid his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, and slapped the black card onto the marble. “Thanks,” Seonghwa nodded, placing it between his fingers.

While Mingi turned around to find you, Jongho unloaded the bottles one by one, the three in the kitchen falling into a discussion about what they found and where. Listening to him, Seonghwa handed the credit card to Hongjoong who reached for it, but as his tiny fingers grazed the edge of it, the eldest pulled it away and smirked, not even giving his former president a glance. Nodding along with Jongho, Seonghwa placed the card between his teeth and laughed as Hongjoong huffed and snatched it away, pulling out a thin wallet from his pocket to slide the card into.

Mingi, happy as clam, peered out into the living room and smiled at you. Hitting you with a wink, one that would normally make you giggle, he hurried over to your side and squatted down behind the couch, half of him still towering over it. Taking a second to read your face, the tension in your brows, he pouted.

“Something happen?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, tilting his head ever so slightly. Narrowing your eyes at the question, at his need to question, he backtracked. “I mean, let’s talk about it.”

“Go help Jongho,” you whispered, gesturing to the boy unloading the bottles with your chin.

“Right,” Mingi mumbled, blinking fervently, “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Yuna screwed up her face and wiggled her feet. “How long have you guys been having problems?” Turning to her quickly, peeling your eyes from Mingi’s toned middle, you laughed to yourself. “I didn’t feel it till now. Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” you said, looking back into the kitchen at Soul now organizing beers in the fridge. He turned with focused brows to grab more, but looked at you first. He hesitated, smiled, then went on his way, grabbing onto bottles that Mingi set out for him. “You know his other friends are staying down the street? Jongseob has a house.”

Yuna blinked. “That sleazy blonde one?”

“He’s not… Okay, yeah.” Thoughts of last night haunted your brain. Sleazy wasn’t too far off.

“Did not know that,” Yuna muttered, dragging a finger over her eyebrows to soothe the ache you know was pounding them. “How do you know that?”

You eyed Seonghwa and Hongjoong, how they drew closer and closer together while the other three moved around the kitchen. “He was in Cheers last night, I talked to him.”

“The lowerclassmen are hilarious,” Yuna said. “Some of our girls are down here too. I don't wanna know what happens in that house.”

You shot her a smirk. “You know what’s happening in that house, we were them. Ror isn’t the only one who’s slept with more than one of them.” Laughing aloud, catching Jongho’s attention, the boy spinning around with a smile on his face, Yuna kicked you and the mention of her and San’s freshman year once upon a time.

“You should’ve seen Jongho’s face the last time that got brought up,” she sighed, both hands sliding over her face. “He gets so jealous, it’s so hot.”

Your eyes fell over Mingi. He’s never gotten jealous, only protective. Confronting Jongseob he would put him in his place, then leave it all be. He wouldn’t attach himself to you, get more clingy, or whine about you talking to him. Confident in himself, as he should be, Mingi never felt the need to prove himself if another guy came onto you, or flirted with you. He’d assert his dominance to the guy, then move on almost as if it had never happened, never acknowledging it again until there were repeat offences.

It’s not that you wanted Mingi to be jealous, you didn’t want that type of toxicity in your relationship regardless of how harmless it’d be, but something about your man doting on you a little extra to show how much he loved you wouldn’t hurt. 

Wooyoung and Aurora made their way back into the room, Aurora dragging him along by the hand behind her. The dynamic fascinated you as much as it frustrated you, how Wooyoung could go along with everything she wanted, everything she said, at the snap of her fingers. He listened to her, he knew what she needed before she knew she needed it. Always one step ahead though it appeared like she ran the show. He simply let her think that. He didn’t have to prove he knew something before her, he didn’t gloat when he tended to her, he didn’t show off for her sake.

That was what you and Mingi had, you think, at some point. You remember it, but instead of one step ahead the two of you walked in time, side by side. 

Now it felt as though every other day one of you was tiptoeing while the other ran marathons, sometimes not even in the same direction.

Taking a deep breath, standing to retreat to your bedroom, you unlocked your phone and opened your messages. No bars were happening tonight, you knew that much, no matter how much you’d fight it. Trailing up the stairs slowly, you typed out a message and hit send. Little to no remorse settling within you.

[you]: come over tonight.

Wobbling into a sophomores shoulder in the platform sandals Yuna wore to the bar last night, you ignored the kid's mumble of frustration and then his apology when he realized who he was speaking to. Or, trying to speak to. Glued to your phone, your nose nearly pressed to the screen, you grunted with frustration, mimicking the sophomore you bumped into.

No answer.

The phone number didn’t answer you. The person didn’t answer. The guy left you on delivered. He was smart too, he didn’t have his read receipts on. He didn’t have his location on. He was simply a number on a screen. For all you know you could be texting one of your professors, or worse, Seonghwa’s uncle.

Venturing into the kitchen, yanking open the fridge that had been ravaged for the last hour since the party started up, you reach for a can of fruity bubbles and crack it open, closing the fridge with your foot. Turning, you looked out into the living room over several heads to find more heads. Voices filled the space, some familiar and some unknown, the brothers and sisters of the fraternity and sorority bringing extra’s along since they could actually get into this party. 

Everyone in bathing suits or summer clothes, they radiated sunshine energy, a much different feeling than whatever got conjured up in the houses at Nasara. Dancing to the music, singing along, gossiping with friends, flirting with someone across the room, stealing spots on sofas to make out, it comforted you. This felt normal. It would be normal. It should be normal.

Your eyes wanted to find him. You wanted to lock gazes with him across the room and know.

You typed out a message after a gulp of your drink and sent it, whipping your head back up to scan the open space flooded with bodies.

[you]: are you here?

You waited. Meeting eyes with ample people you barely recognized, ones that recognized you, you didn’t stop scouring. If Jongseob was here, he’d be easy to spot, you’d just have to look for two boys sucking up to him and he’d be in between them. If Yunho was here, he’d also be easy to spot, you’d just have to look for a boy as tall as your boyfriend most likely standing alone.

Behind you, San and Wooyoung stepped into the kitchen, the two leaping off the stairs to the second floor bar where more hoards of people lingered. Peeking over your shoulder, you met San’s eyes, his pure, lust fueled, dark chocolate eyes. Wooyoung had an arm slung over his shoulder, his entire side pressing against the wider, stockier boy, speaking to him in whispers with his gaze fixed on San’s face. He didn’t care that he wasn’t looking at him, as long as he was grasping whatever Wooyoung said to him. 

A smirk grew on his lips, his perfect pink lips that sat perched on his smooth, cream colored skin. Snaking a hand up to hold beneath Wooyoung’s jaw, he turned to him and mumbled, “Find me in ten.” Wooyoung hurried off without sparing you a single glance, but he knew you were there. As soon as San released him he was off, disappearing into the crowd. 

Searching through the fridge, San emerged with a can in his hand, one he cracked open as he swaggered up to you, dressed exactly how you’d envision him to dress for tonight. Short, black trunks cut off halfway at his thigh and a matching button down hanging open, exposing his broad, toned chest and torso, one you guarantee has been felt up already by curious hands.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he said to you with a wink, throwing an arm around you, pulling you in for the tightest hug. Your arms wrapped around him, the boy a solid mass of muscle. Pulling away from you he took one hand to your cheek and squeezed it. “How are you?” he asked with a soft smile, dipping his chin down.

“I’m alright,” you said, and he hummed immediately in disapproval. 

“Mm, no you’re not,” he said. San and Wooyoung were parallels in the way they could read energy, both of them incredibly emotionally intelligent, both of them using it in their own way, San mostly for his own advantage. Lifting his eyes above your shoulder, to someone a few inches taller than himself, his smile grew. “What’s wrong with her, Mingi?”

Your boyfriend draped a hand over one of your shoulders, his fingers squeezing you ever so slightly. Giving him a quick look, his obvious unease forcing you to look back at San who watched you, Mingi said, “She wanted to go out tonight, but the party’s here.”

San’s eyes sparkled, his smirk one you’ve seen before, but never been on the receiving end of. “She needs an orgasm.”

“San!” you shouted, laughter erupting out of you as you stretched out your arms to give him a gentle push.

Smile growing, dimpling his cheeks, he said, “Go make her cum Mingi,” then he winked at you, “Or go rub one out for me and come back.”

“Bro,” Mingi spat.

“San!” you shouted again, bouncing your knees, reaching back to place your hand over Mingi’s. Trying to tangle your fingers with his, he pulled away, tucking his hand in his pocket.

“I’m kidding,” he said, looking between you and your boyfriend, “I’m busy anyway, I won’t be able to fit you in tonight.” Tapping you on the nose with his finger, he circled around you and threw a hand behind Mingi’s head, pulling him down easily, planting a sloppy kiss to his cheek just beside his lips. Pushing him away, jumping backward as much as he could’ve, but not with much persistence, Mingi wiped at his cheek and missed how San snickered as he walked off, head held high, chest puffed.

Spinning to face Mingi, you smiled up at him and said, “He was kidding by the way.”

“Did you tell him or something?”

Your stomach dropped. “No! I didn’t… I didn’t tell anyone.”

Mingi, a frown pulling at his lips, bobbed his head. “Right.”

Reaching out to grab onto his bicep, he glanced down at it. “Don’t let it bother you.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” he spat, flashing a glare your way, “That happens sometimes. I would understand, I would’ve done something else. You lied to me.”

Pressing your lips together tight, you took a breath and shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in disbelief, as if reliving the night. “You think I have sex with you just to get off?”

“No,” you said, rushed, “You don’t, we don’t-”

“You know what it means to me,” he said. “How important it is to me, I don’t care how pussy I sound right now, Tori, that’s me giving myself to you. That’s me loving you. That’s time when I can really show you just how much you mean to me, where I can tell you and show you how much I love you. I never did hook up culture, you know that… I can imagine it feels alot like that night, right?” 

Everything that came out of him, the absolute truth. Mingi didn’t spend his high school years like most, he found himself in relationships, long term, much like the one you shared with him now. He didn’t kiss and tell, he didn’t flaunt around about how many girls he’s slept with, that number wasn’t even high, when he shared it with you in the start of your time together you were shocked. He knew you were something special, something to hold onto, because from the beginning you’d both be diving head first into bed. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t feel anything, he wouldn’t have, like he said, given himself to you if he didn’t see you sticking around in his life long term.

“I love you, Mingi, I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Rolling his eyes, he pushed by you with a huff. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

A shorter than Mingi, scrawnier than Mingi looking sophomore or junior pushed him back toward you, but paid no mind to him, like your tower of a boyfriend didn’t exist. Edging the counter, posting himself directly in front of you, he wore a smile, one showing off his pristine, shining white teeth. They were fake. They weren’t his. They couldn’t have been.

“Hey, you’re Tori, aren’t you?” he laughed, keeping something to himself. Raising your brow at him, you shared a look with Mingi, but he didn’t reciprocate, he was focused on this boy. “Vice President of ITZ?”

“Yes,” you said, tone flatter than it’d be if you were talking to Jongseob in front of Mingi. “Can I help you?”

The boy checked you out, his eyes glazing over your body, your bikini peeking out of the lacey cover up you had slipped on over top of it. Mingi watched him do so, and you wanted ever so badly for him to grab you, to hold you, to get jealous.

“Seob told me all about you,” the boy said, blinking his crystal blue eyes toward you. “Guess he wasn’t lying.”

Cheeks flushing before they turned pink, you sighed heavily and tossed your hair over your shoulder. “He- He, what?”

“Get out of here,” Mingi grumbled. The boy jumped, your boyfriend's deep voice startling him.

Looking up at him, he tried to laugh. “Who are you?”

Mingi looked at you. You looked at Mingi. Rage brimmed his expression, the sheer mention of Jongseob’s name threatening to send him reeling. That and the fact that this kid didn’t know who he was speaking to. A very important member of ATZ. His eyes bore into yours, for too long, before you realized he wanted you to answer his question.

“M-my boyfriend,” you said, stuttering as you did. Mingi rolled his eyes. A wave of shame flooded your senses. You wanted to run. “His name is Mingi,” you tried to recover, “On the board of ATZ, you a member?” The boy eyed him, then shook his head toward you. “Then why are you here?”

He winked at you. “Jongseob brought me.”

He was here.

“Well, you can leave me alone now,” you said to him, glancing up at Mingi who stood around to hear the end. “And don’t tell him where I am.”

You were the first to turn around, the first to walk away. Leaving Mingi behind who walked away the second you left, you hurried through the crowd, drink in hand, gulping it down as you elbowed past groups and teetered over people on the floor. Jongseob had been running his mouth, to people you didn’t even know. Either that or his friends were telling their friends, which meant that other people besides you, Jongseob, Jiung and Intak knew what happened last night at Cheers. Other people knew what he said to you.

Other people knew what you didn’t choose to stop.

Your cheeks burned, your stomach lurched, the urge to vomit so strong out of pure panic, embarrassment, you couldn’t place it. Every wrong feeling one could feel, you held it in your chest, your shaking hands, your tipsy feet. Hands landing on the back door, you scrambled for the handle and tugged it open, the panels of glass becoming one to allow you outside onto the deck where people and couples lined the railings or sat on the cushions, joints or cigarettes passed around as you flew by, your platform sandals thumping on the stairs that led down to the sand.

A mile further and you’d be on the beach, but down here, on the sand behind the dunes, there lived a fire pit, one lit and burning just as hot as you were internally. Few people sat around it in beach chairs low in the sand, a couple lost in their own whispers, cuddled into one another, a pair of friends sharing a vape, and a loner with a beer in his hands.

Circling the bonfire, he looked up at you and you froze.

“Tori?”

“Yunho,” you breathed.

Something of a laugh tumbled out of him. “We can’t keep meeting like this,” he muttered sarcastically. He trained his gaze on the fire in front of him, sipping his beer occasionally. “You look upset. Again.”

“Again?” you asked within a scoff.

He hit you with a side eye. “You weren’t supposed to talk to me last night, were you?”

“It’s not like that,” you said.

Yunho faced the fire, sitting backward in his chair, his long, bare legs extending in front of him. “Sure it isn’t. I’ve seen her make that face before, it was like she caught her boyfriend with Yeji all over again.” 

His words made you shiver. “Don’t talk about that.”

He smiled, but he didn’t look at you. “Noted,” he said quietly, gesturing to the chair beside him with his beer. “Take a seat, you look like you need to unload.”

“Not with you,” you spat involuntarily. That got him to look up at you, the surprise on his face worsening the feeling within you. “Yunho,” you sighed, pressing the hand that wasn’t gripping your can to your face.

“Nah, I get it,” he nodded. “Your allegiance lies elsewhere, you can’t be seen with me. You’ve already been caught once, the council will behead you if they catch you again.” 

As horrific as it sounded, he made you laugh, the sarcasm dripping in his knowing tone forcing it out of you against your will. He was good for that, talking himself out of things, covering everything up with humor, self-deprecating so you’d forget about your own bullshit even if just for a second. His thing with Aurora truly came as no surprise to you.

“She won’t let me talk to her about it,” you said, taking your hand from your face, revealing to him your fading smile. He swallowed his own and nodded, listening. “I tried, but…”

“She wouldn’t have it,” he finished for you. 

Releasing a breath, you whispered, “Yeah.”

“What did you tell her?” he asked.

“That I… That I needed Yunho closure,” you said, voice smaller than ever.

He blinked, looked up at you and asked, “And what did she say to that?”

“What do you need Yunho closure for, none of us have Yunho closure.”

Quiet, processing what you’ve said, the corners of his lips began to perk up. Turning to the fire, he sipped his beer and tilted his head seemingly happily. 

“What?” you questioned, taking a step toward him.

Yunho shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me. What did that just make you think of?”

He glanced toward you with a smile, then faced forward. “That everything is open ended right now.”

Twisting your brow, you took another step toward him. “Explain.”

“Everything is open ended,” he shrugged, turning completely in his chair to look up at you, his eyes appearing wider than usual, more bright, glistening against the flames to his right and the moon above him. “Closure, she didn’t like how it sounded. When you told her that’s what you were getting, it upset her. The Aurora I know would’ve yelled at you when she caught you, especially if she’d been drinking. Did she yell at you? No. I didn’t even hear her yell after you walked away either.”

“Yunho, Wooyoung’s been really good with her,” you said just above a whisper. He snapped his jaw shut. “You know him. He’s rubbed off on her. The Aurora we know, or used to know, she’s different. After last year, the bullshit? It changed her.”

He thought to himself, his genius brain making marks you couldn’t see, solving equations only he’d put together. “But, still, if she-”

“She was angry, Yunho,” you said, and he met your gaze. “Just a different kind of angry.”

Nibbling his bottom lip, a breeze blew his dusty colored hair over his forehead. “I know her, Torilynn,” he whispered. “And it’s open ended.”

Groaning, your phone vibrated at the same time making you jump. Fumbling to open it, you mumbled, “Yunho, she’s… Damn.” You hurried for a notification from Instagram. A few drinks deep and you’ve forgotten that you silenced his incoming messages. You swiped into the thread with still no reply to your last message.

“What happened?” Yunho asked, pulling you from your screen. His eyes flickered between the cell phone in your hand and your eyes.

“I”m being ignored,” you said. 

“By who, everyone’s here,” he smiled, narrowing his eyes.

Through a sigh, you whispered, “I don’t…” but stopped yourself, shooting him a look.

Raising a brow, Yunho sipped his beer. His smile settled into a smirk. “You don’t know?” Your blood ran cold, as it seemed to do now in his presence. “Is that what you were gonna say?”

“...No.”

His eyes ate you alive, curious, yet knowing all at the same time. “Okay,” he said after a beat of silence, slowly turning back in his chair before your question pulled him back in.

It came out of you in a whisper. “Are you the one texting me?”

He sat forward, elbows on his bare knees, delighted as he looked up at you. “What are you talking about?”

“The messages,” you still spoke no louder than a whisper. “The unknown number, they’ve been here in Haos the whole time, they know about me, they know who I am, is it you?” He laughed. “And don’t bullshit me, because you repeated something they said verbatim, Yo.”

His eyes bugged out of his head, his laughter growing louder. “I did? How!”

Throwing your hands out to the side, some of your drink spilled from the can. “I dunno, you tell me! How are you texting me from an unknown number when I have your number!”

“I’m not texting you, Tori!” He slapped both his hands to his chest, beer bottle in grip. “I wouldn’t know how to do that, I… I wouldn’t wanna do that, no offense.” A weight felt like it’d been lifted from your shoulders. “It’s not me, I swear to you.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned yourself around and soaked in the sights. The sand stretching on forever, the stars and the moon in the sky, the house pulsing with life, the fire warming your exposed skin. Sipping your drink that was half warm, you cringed and shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, good to know,” you said, and he laughed.

“How long has this been happening?” he asked.

“Since we got here,” you muttered. “Our first night here, we literally just walked in the house and he told me he knew I was here.”

Yunho raised a brow. “He? You know this person is a guy?”

You looked at him for two seconds, then stared at the fire. “Yeah…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been talking to this person… To him.”

“Maybe I have,” you whispered, sipping your drink.

Yunho fell back in his seat and laughed. “Tori! Does anybody know about this?”

Thinking to yourself, already knowing the answer, you hit him with a glare before mumbling, “No.”

Dragging a hand through his hair, his veiny, slender, pretty fingers dancing through the overgrown strands, he sighed, blinking up at you. The roundness of his eyes, the curve of his nose, things you haven’t taken the time to notice before, they were endearing. Tongue poking between your lips, you pressed your can to them and sipped your drink, the two of you maintaining eye contact that made your stomach twist.

“Tori,” he said, clearing his throat. Ripping his gaze from you, he focused down on the sand. “Don’t keep this from them. Rory, and Mingi. They’re your best friends, go tell them. They can help you figure it out.”

Clenching your jaw, you nearly crushed the can in your hand as your grip tightened around it. Yunho’s eyes flickered to it before they were on yours again. “But, if I do, then they’ll see what I said to him.”

“What did you say to him?” Yunho asked in a way that made it seem as though you should be incriminated. 

Shrugging, you finished off your drink. “Just, stuff.” 

“Jesus, Tor,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You have any ideas on who you think it could be?”

“Possibly,” you said, crinkling the can, tossing it into the fire. Yunho watched it, the metal shriveling up within the flames. 

“And will it end well if it’s who you think it is?” he asked, eyes lit up by flames.

Folding your arms over your chest, you smiled to yourself. “No. No it won’t.”

Commotion stirred on the deck above you, voices got louder, some people shouted. Tipping your chins up, both you and Yunho, you're greeted by a head peering over the edge to look at you at the same time. Warm blonde hair, honey skin and a sleazy smile.

“There she is,” Jongseob sang. Intak appeared beside him, a laugh falling from him when he spotted you. Jongseob elbowed him away as his eyes shifted over to Yunho. “Hangin’ with him again?” Sipping his beer, Yunho nearly choked on it.

“Keep my name out of your mouth,” he spat, pointing up at the twenty year old. 

“Why, ‘cause it’s too busy in everyone else’s?” Jongseob snickered, and Yunho looked away with a groan. “Come take shots with me, Tori,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “These losers won’t leave me alone. Save me.” Various ‘hey’s’, and ‘asshole’, sounded off from the boys around him, people he called friends. Jongseob swatted a hand backward toward them, disappearing from the ledge.

Meeting Yunho’s glance, you gulped as he whispered, “I sure hope to god it isn’t him.”

All around the living room table people collected, Seonghwa and Hongjoong sliding out shot glasses to anyone who approached and sat down with them, the two turning it into a game when newcomers joined them on the floor. How many shots can you endure before you’re spinning? Stepping around the sofa, Jongseob on your heels, his friends behind him, you fan out, you take in the scene. Intak and Jiung cheer the next round on, Hongjoong peering up at them behind his chunky black frames perched on the end of his nose.

This was how you knew him, how most knew him. Dressed to impress, ironed clothes, accessories impeccable, chestnut hair slicked back off his forehead, glowy skin, the former president was nothing short of stunning. 

Groans, echoes of boo’s rung out into the air after a shot was thrown back and two sophomores tapped out, leaving the table. At the end farthest from you, three participants beamed amongst themselves, only two seeming to participate in the game. San and Aurora, your best friend sitting on one of his thighs, they slid their glasses toward Seonghwa after they pressed their cheeks together and giggled, Wooyoung on the other side of Aurora watching her with a smile. Her other hand that wasn’t latched onto San or the shot glass held onto Wooyoung’s.

Stepping forward, you bent over to whisper to Seonghwa, “Have you seen Mingi?”

Pouring out shots, sliding them back down over the wood, he peered over at you, his own eyes glazed over. “Last I saw him he was upstairs with Yeosang.” His drunken gaze traveled backward over you toward Jongseob and his friends. “Did they come with you?” You bobbed your head. “Why’d you bring them back in here, I just kicked them out.” 

Hongjoong smacked his hand on the table multiple times, his wicked smile growing wider as Aurora and San swallowed their liquor, gasping as they slapped the glasses back onto the wood. Laughing aloud, tongues slipping out of their open mouths to prove they finished it, they leaned into one another, tongues pressing together for all of three seconds before they sent the glasses back to Hongjoong.

“Kicked them out, why?” you asked, brows twisting over your eyes that flashed from your best friend to Seonghwa. 

Hands grabbed onto your shoulders for leverage. Leaning over you towards the table, Jongseob and his friends laughed behind you, even more so as Intak said, “Not the only thing she likes on them pretty lips, right Aurora?”

She was oblivious, slow blinking, limp moving, her hands holding onto San. Both boys nearly broke their necks with how fast they reacted to him, faces wiped of all feeling. Wooyoung leapt to his feet. The boys behind you all took a step back. 

“Who the fuck brought you back in here?” he spat. Aurora turned at the sound of his voice, his tone loud, angry, an Wooyoung you all knew well just about three years ago. The look on her face, one you hated. San pulled her into his chest.

“The president’s right hand,” Intak said, smug as ever. Stepping closer, the air in the room depleting with every inch of space he stole, Wooyoung settled his face into the grimace he’d shot you that morning, giving it to you again.

“They didn’t tell me they were kicked out,” you breathed, holding your hands up.

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. “He’s been harassing her since he got here, he’s shitfaced.”

“So is your girl,” Intak bellowed, wobbling on his feet, tossing up a hand to prove his point. It’s a shame his smirk and the way his eyes crinkled was sexy. “You gonna let San take her for a ride?”

“You motherfucker.”

Lunging for him, you and the boys darting apart for the two to fall through, Wooyoung grabbed him by the shoulders and they vanished in the midst of people. Shouts sounded, from Wooyoung, Intak, shouts from others either cheering them on or too drunk to process what the actual fuck was happening. He hadn’t put his hands on anyone in ages, the look on his face one you haven’t seen since he was younger than the boy he tackled, grit teeth, wild eyes, red in the face…

Seonghwa leapt to his feet soon after Wooyoung grabbed onto him, a massive, “Hey!” sounding from his chest, triggering your own fight or flight, your body jolting.

Jongeob and Jiung disappeared the same as their president, in a hurry, the commotion condensing around them, more people rushing over to watch, to catch a glimpse of what the hell was happening.

“Oh shit,” San muttered, grabbing onto Aurora as he stood up. Her arms flailed before they found his shoulders. Eyebrows low, he rounded the table and placed her in front of you, taking your arms to wrap them around her back. “I’ll be right back,” he said to you, then he vanished with the rest.

Aurora sunk into you, her arms snaking around your back, her hands grabbing onto her elbows. Keeping your arms where they lived over her back, you searched the crowd but couldn’t see anything over the cluster of heads, the mess of people yelling, jumping. Hongjoong had to scramble to his feet to keep others in line, ones that couldn’t even get into the center of it all, trying to start their own shit outside the circle. It amazed you to watch him work in real time, the way people obeyed him in seconds, his own fraternity members still recognizing him as someone with the most power though now he was one step below. Neither wanted to have to do their jobs this month, Seonghwa and Hongjoong, nor did you or Aurora, yet here they were.

Over someone who hasn’t been a member in almost a year.

On your chest, Aurora stirred. She caught her own balance, tipping her chin upward to look at you. Blinking, you looked down at her. Smelling like a bottle of vodka, her hooded eyes and weak smile made you sigh. Intak was right, she was shitfaced. To the point where you knew she wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Squeezing you, her lips formed a pout.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her eyes attempting to read you, but there wasn’t a single coherent thought in her head. 

Swallowing away the lump that lodged in your throat, you frowned and nodded. “I miss you.” 

A couple of shouts sounded off from the crowd and her eyes shot open wide. Taking her hands to your shoulders to push away from you, you held her closer, putting a hand behind her head, pulling her back down against your chest.

“Where did…”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it.”

She huffed, her hands scooping beneath your arms to hold behind your back. Her grip was weak. “He’s fighting him, isn’t he.” Blinking, eyes following the crowd that condensed again, Soul and Jongho now in the mix, you couldn’t put any words together. “Sometimes I wish… he could be like Mingi.”

“What?” you gasped, glancing down at her. “Why!?”

“Mingi… fights clean,” she mumbled. “You know what you get with him, he is who he is.” 

She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, I guess so, but Wooyoung-”

“It’s never…” she paused, and you checked to see if she’d knocked out, but she watched the backs of the people in the circle. “It’s never one thing with him. It’s always gotta be something else, more feelings, talk about this, you feel this way because…” 

Opening your mouth, words didn’t come out. It took a minute for you to be able to say anything. Here you were for so long thinking their dynamic, their relationship, their bond was all sunshine and daisies and rainbows. “He cares about your relationship.”

Aurora whined, turning to bury her face on your shoulder. “I know,” she muttered. “My dad said the same fuckin’ thing, that he’s a good guy, that he cares.”

Rubbing a hand between her shoulder blades to soothe her somehow, you shrugged. “Listen to him, Ror. You’ve got it good.”

“So do you,” she said quietly. “You’re like, with your soulmate.” She lifted her head, glassy eyes blinking up at you. “I wish mine didn’t suck.”

Your stomach flipped. You shook her accidentally as your hands flew to grab onto her cheeks, cupping her face, her entire body weight resting on top of you. “What do you mean by that?” 

A smile played on her lips, the corners of her eyes tipping upward. “Did he say anything about me?” she asked within a whisper. “Yunho… Did he-” 

She didn’t get to finish her sentence when you really fucking needed her to. San hurried back to you, people dispersing the scene reluctantly. His arm grabbed onto her waist and pulled her off of you, scooping her into his arms. With a laugh she moved pliantly, arms thrown around his wide shoulders as she wrapped herself around his front, legs slinging around his waist. Behind you Wooyoung passed by, hands wiping at his face, brushing his arms, adjusting his clothes. He paid no mind to a single soul, not even you. His eyes were forward, narrowed and dark.

“Where are you going?” you called after her and her drunken smile bouncing over San’s shoulder. 

She grinned wider, a giggly mess as San pressed his lips to her neck, following Wooyoung to the stairs. Looking at you, behind you, all at once her smile faded and she pointed at you like she suddenly remembered something, shouting, “Don’t let him leave!” They were gone in seconds.

Laying a hand over your chest, your heart pounding between your lungs, the other found your hip, resting there. Spinning on your heels, wandering back toward the table that Seonghwa and Hongjoong have found themselves at again, you stood beside where they sat, their sudden calm energy while they whispered doing wonders to calm yours. People wandered off, some clearly wired, others muttering how disappointed they were it ended so fast. Looking down at Seonghwa, he met your eyes and smiled as if to tell you that everything would be okay, his attention turning back to Hongjoong in a flash, like he was worried he was going to miss something.

A hand grabbed you and spun you around, the sight sending a gasp through you. Intak, his pretty face, messed up. One hand held onto his jaw, the other clasped onto his forehead, he was leaning against Jiung who had a few scuffs himself. Soul stood behind him, his hands on his back to hold him steady, his focus on Jiung, the two whispering over their friends head.

Jongseob had been the one to grab you, to put his hands on you. “Your dudes are fucking nuts,” he snapped. 

You didn’t know where to look, searching Jongseob for any sign of him having been touched by one of your friends, you muttered, “I’m sorry.” 

I’m sorry?

“We’re out of here,” he said, his voice growing tiny. “If you really want me like you let on, you come find me.” He glanced behind you and smirked. “Bye Tori.”

What the fuck?

“The fuck did he mean by that?” Yunho’s voice came from behind the sofa. Chills shooting down your spine, you spun around and slumped your shoulders. He took a second to look down at Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting around the table. They were watching. Following his stare, you met eyes with them both and groaned. With one look at Yunho you spoke to him through it, and he followed you.

Darting through the maze that has become the house, he stayed but three steps behind you. Leading him around corners, groups of people, through a doorway into another smaller sitting room on the first floor, one with bookshelves kissing the ceiling, you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him with a huff.

“I hate you and your smart brain,” you said.

Yunho tilted his head. “Huh?”

“Open ended?” you scoffed. “You don’t speak a word to her in months yet you still know how she feels?”

His lips parted, his body frozen. “What?”

“Oh, now you know nothing?”

He stepped toward you in the small space, only the two of you occupying the carpet. “She still has feelings for me? How the fuck did you learn this in a half hour?”

“Because, I may talk a lot of shit, but when she’s drunk-”

“She tells you everything,” you both said at once. Yunho tipped his chin backward, his own arms crossing over his t-shirt. 

“Don’t go trying to break them up, Wooyoung almost just murdered Intak in the living room.”

A smirk graced his lips for all of a few seconds. “I wouldn’t do that. Besides,” he sighed, looking over at you, “You said he’s good for her. He’s good with her.”

Hesitating, knowing all you knew now, that Aurora had her own relationship issues, you whispered, “He is.”

“I want her happy,” he said, his genuine smile growing as he shrugged. The air falls quiet around the two of you, the commotion of the party still very much alive outside the library. He took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go.” Starting for the doorway, you watched him step out and turn a corner, but then your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait!” you shouted after him, hurrying out of the room, platform sandals clunking against the hardwood floor. “Yunho!”

He turned, confusion laced with worry in his brow. “What?”

Reaching his side, you grabbed onto his arm, hands wrapping around his bicep, the two of you wobbling together. “She said, don’t let him leave.”

“Me? Him as in me?” he asked, eyes going wide.

You sighed, a sarcastic laugh paired with it. “Who else, Yo?”

He took a breath and glanced about the party, his face not knowing what to do, what to feel. Shaking his head, his lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he froze. “Tori,” he whispered, and you shook his arm.

“What?”

Squishing his lips together, he gave you the tiniest shake of his head, his eyes locked elsewhere. Whipping yourself around, frantically searching through the sea of people, you found him. He wasn’t that hard to miss, especially from where he stood halfway down the stairs. He stared at you, he stared at Yunho, the way he held onto him, and you guarantee just by the look on his face that he saw the way you spoke to one another. Like you’ve done this already before this moment.

Gulping, voice tiny, you dropped your hands and whispered, “Mingi.”

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[makiruz]

I was thinking that in Wicked Act 2 there has to be people who support Elphaba, even in strong pro-Wizard places like Munchkinland and Emerald City, because they oppose the Wizard's anti Animal agenda; the musical outright states that many Animals give Elphaba food and shelter, and it's likely that there's some humans in there too. I'm imagining a Munchkin farmer who finds an unconscious green woman and hides her from wife and her neighbors, Elphaba asks why and the farmer say "the Gale Force says you're wicked, but Animals say you're the only one who helps them, and I'm not gonna listen to those brutes"

Also yes, the Gale Force/Wizard Army is canonically repressive, they're willing to torture and murder their former captain at the drop of a hat, who knows what they're doing to Animals and Animal supporters

Then, I had another idea: in many places in Munchkinland Boq is hated, hated as much as Nessarose because people see him as an extension of her. And some folks have a point too; the scene is in some public house or something in Munchkinland and an old man tells Dorothy that is a shame she didn't take Boq with the Witch, and several people agree, one lady says not talk like that "don't get me wrong, I hate that wormy excuse for a man as much as anyone else, but it's not right to wish harm to others" the Tin Man is getting weirdly upset, and Dorothy mentions that she actually met Boq and he was nice to her "easy to be nice to a nice human girl, but he was there, next to the Wicked Witch of the East, and did nothing while the Gale Forces dragged Sandsper the healer and put her in a cage, or when the Toliviers were arrested for hiding Animals trying to flee Oz; no one ever heard from them again". Boq was in an abusive relationship, so he really doesn't deserve that, but being the Lover of the Wicked Witch of the East is not a good title to have

[neddie97cherry]

Y’all already pissed me off this morning. Now I don’t know what the fuck happened to this Juliet girl. But I just think it’s weird how y’all are saying “believe the victim! I have so much sympathy and respect for Juliet”. Oh you do? So why the fuck are you coming on this platform and trying to be a detective? Why the fuck are you trying to figure out who was born and what year? Who said what? Who did what? Who the villain is? Like do you have any idea how disrespectful that is? Like you can’t be fucking serious right now. Whatever happened to this girl is really serious because I saw how upset she was. But y’all have no right to just be going through her story and trying to figure out if it was Rudy or Jonathan Davis or some person named Nick. You have no right to be going through her story like you’re a police officer. You have no right to just be throwing names and accusations around.

I’m an SA and abuse Survivor. If I found out that people heard my story, then started going through my story and trying to just blame people who they thought were the culprit. I would be fucking livid. 

People who go through traumatizing things and then are told that if they speak up, they will get in trouble are already going through enough pressure. They’re already scared. And they don’t need you to try to be an Internet sleuth. go to work or go to school or find a new hobby. But someone’s traumatic story and trying to figure out who did it, should not be your newest obsession.

[asthe-crow-flies]

got my little aro hopes up on a bridgerton of all people but that’s ok cause my little bi hopes are doing GREAT

[suncoved]

BIG MAN ON CAMPUS! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; fratboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; you come to your first college party and have the worst panic attack of your life. who knew your knight in shining armour would be the captain of the biggest fraternity and the biggest fuck boy on campus

warnings ; panic attacks, anxiety, drugging, angst but like fluff!!

"Liv, i'm really not sure about this"

You're best friend and roommate looked at you with a blank stare, watching as you pulled the tight white dress down that had ridden up your thighs. She had dragged you out of your dorm only 20 minutes ago, telling you that if you didn't come she was going to wake you up with a bucket of ice water.

"Cmon babe, you made me promise i would drag you to at least one party this year. and i don't break a promise. Which also means that i promise if you don't like the first 30 minutes, then we can go home and eat 30 pounds of ice cream and pass out in our makeup"

You smiled at her, trying to push yourself through whatever anxiety was coursing through you. Liv was really a good friend, even if she was harsh about it at times, you know that she wanted the best for you.

The smell of booze and sweat hit your nose immediately as you walked into the frat house, the music blasting and the rainbow lights blinding against the otherwise dark space.

Liv pulled you to the corner of the living room, smiling brightly at you and giving you an extra tight hug. "Ok! I'm gonna go get us some drinks, stay right there and don't move!"

She had to yell because of how loud the music was, wasting no time before disappearing into the kitchen.

You stood in the party like a fish out of water, biting your lip as you looked down at your feet.

You'd like to say that you weren't that much of an introvert. I mean sure you liked to be curled up with a good book from time to time, and you were studying a bit more than healthy. But you like to go out and shop with friends, talk to new people in your classes and slumber parties on the weekends.

But parties were something you did not do. It had a combination of all the things you disliked most in life. loud music, people yelling, drinking, flashing bright lights and... frat boys.

You'd already been brought out of your shell at college, you were confident enough now to present in classes and partner up with new people on assignments, but this was pushing it.

You were a sweet girl, but naive. You didn't have enough experience with greedy men and even you would admit that you resembled a lost deer more often than you would like.

You lifted your head as you heard someone approach you, looking up quickly as you assumed it was Liv coming back from the kitchen.

But it wasn't Liv.

A brunette looked straight at you as you made eye contact with him, a red solo cup resting in his hand.

"What's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone in the corner" he stated, inching closer to you as you subconsciously stepped back a bit. "I'm Jeremey"

He reached out his hand to you to shake, only to receive a dumbfounded look on your face.

"Normally people reply back with their name, Babe"

"Oh! Sorry!" you replied flustered, repeating back your name as he grinned wide, showing his bright smile.

You didn't want to admit that when Jeremy was talking to you, you continually kept glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that the next person to walk out was Liv, who was going to hopefully come to save you from this conversation.

"Hey, I was experimenting in the kitchen, wanna try my new concoction." Jeremy dangled the red solo cup in your face, the liquid pink and smelling of strawberries.

"No thank you. I don't drink" you replied sweetly, hoping to be polite and not upset him. "There's barely any in it, promise. Pleaseee, don't wanna hurt my feelings, do you?" He replied in annoyance.

A pang of hurt shot through you as you panicked, how could you have been so rude! Jeremy was taking time out of his day to talk to you and you rejected a drink he made you?

"Oh! no, I'm sorry. Thank you so much" you replied, taking the cup out of his hands and looking down at the liquid. He watched closely as you took a sip, your face twisting at the strong flavour of vodka.

"What do you think?" he smirked as he asked, bringing his hand up to your lips and wiping the extra liquid off with his thumb.

"Its- its great, thank you" you replied, your heart beating faster as you started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He watched you closely as he hinted to you to drink more, looking down at you like he was a wolf, and you were his prey.

You held back tears as you felt the room start to spin under your feet, your cheeks feeling hot and your hands shaking involuntarily. It hit you quickly that this wasn't alcohol that was making you feel like this, no, it was something else. Something much, much worse.

And you didn't want to stick around to figure out what it was.

"Um, sorry Jeremy, I need to go to the bathroom" you spoke up, using all your courage to push through the crowd quickly as he followed.

Your breath was now speeding up as you fought your way through the waves of people, your steps becoming faster as you felt the room spinning more and more, tears streaming down your face.

You didn't know where the bathrooms in this place were, but you didn't have time to think about that now.

You just needed to find Liv, or someone, anyone.

Your eyes fell on a room at the end of the hall, light spilling out of the crack where the door failed to meet the floor.

You didn't have time to think, just to act. Your balled fist made it up to the door, knocking over and over again as you looked behind you, Jeremy in the crowd but looking all over for what you assumed to be you.

You didn't even want to begin to imagine how stupid you looked, or how impolite you were being as your knocks became harsher and frantic as Jeremy came closer.

"Jesus, learn how to wait your fucking turn" a voice sounded as the door opened. you didn't even look away from Jeremy as you tumbled into the bathroom, accidentally bringing the person in the door with you.

"Yo, what the fuc-" the aggressive voice came to a halt quickly, but you all you could focus on was your breathing, which was out of control.

Your cheeks were wet with tears as you closed your eyes, bringing your hands up to your face and letting yourself sob. "I- I can't breathe" You let out, unknowing if you were talking to yourself or the person in the space with you.

You couldn't even handle your anxiety and emotions when you were in control of your body, let alone now.

That's the main reason you don't drink, because you tend to freak out to the point of no return, and this, this was much worse.

Your face was buried in your hands as the person softly closed the door to the bathroom. You didn't even register him softly moving you to sit on the toilet seat in the bathroom, kneeling down and removing your hands from your face.

You opened your eyes to see a man's face looking back at you, his features painted with worry and his body distanced enough away from you as to not upset you even more.

"Hey- hey. Its ok, what's wrong?" the boy asked, trying not to show how confused he was on how to deal with this situation. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head quickly at his statement, your tears slowly coming to a halt as your vision became less blurry. You could now see his face more clearly. Fluffy dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, soft pink lips.

"Uh, um. Wait" He spoke, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the bathroom. He started frantically opening draws and cabinets, stopping when he found a box of tissues under the sink.

"Here" you looked between him and the box he was handing you before taking it in your hands, your fingers brushing past each other momentarily.

"Thank you, i-i promise I'm not this much of a mess all the time." You replied, earning a soft smile from the man. "It's ok, it happens to the best of us. Have you taken anything, or just drunk?" He asked delicately.

Rafe didn't understand what he was feeling at this moment. Because he'd never felt it before.

Sure he could be an asshole sometimes, He was rude and got into fights on occasion, and he had been known to make girls complete the walk of shame out of his room involuntarily after a big night out, but that didn't mean he would ever leave a clearly intoxicated girl alone at a frat party.

But this, this was different. He had to know what was wrong with you, and he had to fix it. Sure you were a mystery to him and only met you seconds ago, but he wasn't leaving until he knew you were safe and sound... and had given him your name.

"I don't drink- or, at least I didn't. This boy gave me something, it tasted weird. Then I got all dizzy and now- now I can't stop crying" You rambled, sighing softly and looking into his eyes.

He gazed back at you, running his tongue around his teeth before seemingly snapping out of the trance he was in. "Did you know the guy?" He huffed, obviously agitated with your reply as he ran his fingers through his hair.

You shook your head softly, a wave of sadness running through you because you couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Tears started running down your face again suddenly as you kept repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over again.

He lifted his thumb up to your cheek, softly brushing the tears away. "Hey it's okay, Don't worry. I'll keep you safe"

He didn't understand the feelings he was feeling, He had never craved to protect someone so much, He had never been this gentle in his whole life.

"What's your name?" he asked, distracting you to hopefully stop the flow of tears streaming down your face. He felt like if you didn't stop crying in the next minute, he was going to lose it.

You answered your name to him, earning a soft smile. "I'm Rafe, it's nice to meet you." He finished the sentence with your name, sending shivers down your spine.

"Liv" You gasped, making his head tilt in confusion before you shot up from your seat. "Wow, ma. Slow down, what do you mean?" Rafe replied, holding your hips to stop you from completely falling over. You sat back down quickly in defeat, your eyes wide with panic.

"Liv, I-I came here with my friend Liv. I'm gonna scare her. I need to find her." You gasped, your voice trembling as you spoke. "It's ok, We'll find her. Don't worry, it's ok." He repeated, desperate for your face to get back to your normal expression, aka, not struck with terror.

It was obvious to Rafe through the glaze cast over your eyes, the shaking from your hands and the drooping of your eyelids that someone had slipped something into your drink.

He had hosted enough parties at his fraternity to know what insecure, probably small dicked boys, not men, can do to women. And it revolted him.

"R-rafe. I'm gonna go to sleep now" You whispered, your body finally giving out before you could stop it, his arms quickly coming up to stabilize you before you toppled over.

He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, pulling your body into his arms as you didn't even stir. He was scared. So scared.

He didn't know what you were given, how much you were given, what would happen after you woke up, if you even woke up at all.

He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, unlocking the door and locking it behind him again. His room was the only one with a lock in the whole house, because he was damned if he was going to walk in on random strangers having drunk sex on his bed.

He rested you softly on his bed, making sure your head was comfortably on his pillow and resting a blanket over your body after taking your heels off.

He looked at your sleeping form, your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks, your hair falling softly over your shoulders and your chest rising and falling with your breaths.

He looked at you one last time before leaving his room, ignoring every person greeting him as he made a beeline straight for the living room.

He scanned over the large crowd in the house, numerous people dancing, some making out, his frat brothers doing keg stands, and one very panicked girl going up to every stranger she sees.

Rafe took no time before walking straight to the girl in the middle of the dance floor, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns immediately to face Rafe, her face struck with confusion.

"Are you Liv?" Rafe asks, earning a confused nod from the girl in front of him” I am! Have you seen my best friend anywhere? She's about yay height, really pretty, heart of gold, she kinda looks like that baby deer from that Disney movie, she's wearing this white dress and-"

Rafe stops her ramble with a quick nod causing her eyes to widen. "What? Where is she?"

"In my bed" Rafe replied, remembering he wasn't all that good with small talk. "What? What the fuck do you mean, in your bed? What did you do? I swear to god-"

"Ok, calm down. Someone gave her something. I found her in the bathroom sobbing before she passed out. I put her in my bed then came down here, end of story" He replied, starting to get slightly agitated.

The girl he now knows to be Liv quickly walks off, heading straight for upstairs where the bedrooms are. Rafe rolls his eyes before following swiftly behind her, though he's glad that there's someone out there other than him trying to protect his newfound soft spot.

Liv halts at all the bedrooms, looking expectantly at Rafe before he walks in front of her and opens his door. Liv immediately rushes to you, still passed out on Rafe's bed.

She sits next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Of course, on the first party she goes to, some sick fuck roofies her and she ends up in Rafe Cameron's bed" Liv speaks, not taking her eyes off you.

"How do you know my name?" Rafe asks, not even bothering to look at the person he's talking to as he focuses on your chest rising and falling. "Ha, everyone knows who you are Rafe. And if I find out you had anything to do with her getting hurt, I'm gonna chop your dick off and feed it to you and make sure everyone on campus knows it"

It would be a lie to say Rafe wasn't slightly amused by your best friend's words, holding back his smile and keeping his face stern. "I would never do that shit. Especially not to her" Liv's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the last bit of his sentence.

She knows for a fact that you did not know Rafe Cameron before this night, let alone any frat boys. Liv could cry at the sight of your passed-out form, taking full blame and responsibility for the fact that you got hurt when she was meant to protect you.

She pulled her phone out from her purse, about to call an Uber back to the dorms for both of you. "No, I'll drive you" He stated, not leaving room for an argument

Liv nodded slowly before pulling the blanket off you, your body involuntarily starting to shiver from the cold air.

Rafe walked over to his closet, grabbing his warmest hoodie. Liv looked up at him as he raised your body softly, placing the hoodie over your head and softly lifting you up into his arms.

Rafe walked with Liv down to the road outside the fraternity house, receiving hundreds of stares from people in the crowd. But he didn't care, all he cared about was you.

He let Liv open the door to the backseat of his truck, allowing him to place you softly inside before Liv climbed in next to you, placing your head on her lap.

The ride was completely silent, barring Liv's directions to the dormitories, but she didn't miss the way he was constantly looking in the rearview mirror at you.

It didn't take long before Liv was leading the way to your dorm, Rafe trailing slowly behind with you in his arms.

She flicked the light on in your dorm, Rafe quickly knowing which bed was yours from the multiple stuffies and pink blankets. He lifted the covers before placing your head on the pillow once more, knowing Liv was going to get you changed before she slept.

"Thank you, Rafe, for looking out for her when I didn't" Liv said as Rafe walked to your door, nodding curtly in repose to her statement.

He gave you one last look before he walked out of your door, watching as Liv was about to shut the door on him after saying goodbye. Panicked he placed his foot in front of the door before it shut, forcing it open.

"C-can I get her number, please?"

[jayybugg]

drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Batman is confused. Elsewhere, a fox has dinner with a social worker.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have a question about the report you submitted last Tuesday.”

“What is it, father?” Damian stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Bruce, still in his cowl from patrol.

“Could you please explain this… Fox… you wrote about?” He asked, carefully picking his words.

“What about it?”

The cave was filled with silence as they stared each other down. Bruce contemplated how to proceed. 

“Damian, foxes can’t do these things. They can’t understand human speech to the degree you described, they don’t exchange food for services, they can’t point you to the joker.”

“Are you calling me a liar father?” Damian snipped back.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“I didn’t lie,” Damian seethed through clenched teeth, “You can ask Grayson if you don’t believe me. But I did not lie.”

Bruce contemplated that reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t just a ploy to get a new pet. “Foxes can’t do those things,” he repeated, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I know.”

~~~~

Jason did not yelp. He did not jump and definitely did not scream like a 5 year old watching a horror movie. In fact he did not react at all when he walked into his safe house, turned on the light, and heard the gravelly voice of the 6 foot tall hell beast behind him calling his name. Nope. Not a single reaction. Not even a flinch. Totally. Definitely. 

Which is why Bruce’s current expression is completely unwarranted. It was the expression he made when Jason ate 5 plates of pancakes in one sitting two months into living with him. It was the expression he made when Jason lost his tooth naturally for the first time — rather than in a fight. It was the expression he made when Jason cried over a bruised knee when learning how to ride a bike. It was the expression he made when Cass fell asleep against him during a movie, close and comfortable. It was the expression he made when Stephanie would show off a new skill she learned or hobby she picked up. It was the expression he made when Tim would show off his photos, or when Babs would take a break to read a new book. It was the expression he made when Damian would ask for a play date, or Dick would show off new clothes. It was the expression he made when his kids, his family, acted like normal people, and not vigilantes burdened with a fight they could never win. And there was no reason for him to make that awful, soft, sappy, expression now because Jason did not scream.

“The fuck you want?” Jason snapped (because he was upset about being intruded upon, and definitely, totally not because he was embarrassed about squealing like a little girl. Which is something he did not do, by the way.)

“I wanted to ask you about something,” his voice was clear and stern, but still held concern and care.

Jason tilted his head toward Bruce, urging him to continue. “Damian wrote a report I found… odd. It was about your informant,” That idiotic fool “I was hoping you could clarify something.” 

Jason signed, he’d reem the little twerp later, and plopped himself down on the ratty once-beige couch. “Alright. Shoot.”

~~~~

The clothes were itchy. Unbelievably so. They were baggy, but the intentional kind. The kind that hid how malnourished you were, rather than highlighting it. They were new, unwashed, ugly, and would likely be returned the next day, if the tag digging into your back was any indication.

“How are things going dear?” Asked Ms.Kelsey, a naive younger woman with a brown bun and thin purple glasses, “are you liking your stay with Neels?”

“It’s not the worst home I’ve been in,” you answered smoothly. That wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact you could only shower on Wednesday mornings, they confiscated your phone two days in, and they seemingly despised the idea they had to feed you, it still wasn’t the worst home you’d been in. Not even top five. 

“That’s good to hear!” Ms.Kelsey, your current social worker, celebrated. She was new to the job, only a year in, and annoyingly cheerful, but she was visibly trying her best. You appreciated that. “How’s school been going?”

“We’re reading Shakespeare in my English class,” you offered.

“Oh! And how are you liking it?”

“It’s alright, but I really like my English teacher, he makes it fun.”

“That’s wonderful sweetie,” Ms.Kelsey grinned, “Let’s go join the family for dinner,” she directed, standing from the worn brown armchair in the living room and heading towards the dining room where the Mr. and Mrs. Neel were seated beside their son, George.

You took your seat at the stubby table, across from George. The table was dressed with a tacky floral tablecloth, and covered with various mismatched bowls of sides surrounding a rather large chicken. The food was, as typical for Mrs. Neel, simultaneously overcooked and raw. You plopped a spoonful of soggy broccoli on your plate, followed by a serving of (unintentionally chunky) mashed potatoes. No chicken, you weren’t willing to risk salmonella or the screaming fit that would follow. Only simple sides that they have plenty of, so they wouldn’t get mad at you. 

The mashed potatoes crunched when you took a bite, and you tried your best to ignore it. They tasted wet and sad, and far too salty. Chewing was both difficult and necessary as parts of the food slashed down your throat with little resistance, and others put up a fight when you tried to chew them. But this wasn’t the worst home you’ve been in. Far from it in fact. At least the food isn’t moldy! And there’s no— no, wait, yup that’s hair. You decided to risk the chunky potatoes swallowed down your mouthful with a glass of water.

Ms.Kelsey and the Neels exchanged pleasant conversation, while you picked at your food, taking small mouthfuls fast enough they wouldn’t ask questions, and slow enough you could carefully examine all the food. The evening passed in a swift haze, with no mistakes on your end. After Miss Kelsey left, you helped clear the table, pack the food away, and retreated to your rarely used bedroom.

The bedroom had bare white walls, an uncomfortable bed, and a small dresser you kept your clothes in. It was fine. Everything was fine, you kept repeating to yourself. It could be much, much worse. It has been much, much worse. Be thankful for what you have. At least tomorrow you’ll see your friends again! That’s gotta count for something, right?

~~~~

“They… didn’t come today…” Damian rarely allowed his emotions to breathe freely, so seeing him look so defeated was odd.

“It happens from time to time. ‘Bout once a month,” Jason clumsily tried to comfort, “they’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’re ok?” Damian asked, almost pleading, and looked up at Jason.

“I— ummm — ya,” he awkwardly placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was not sure, actually, but he hoped it was true. “Let’s leave the food here, so they’ll have something if they drop by later.” 

Damien seemed pleased by the idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

I put this elsewhere, but in case you haven't seen it: I'm having some technical difficulties with responding to comments, but I see them, and I appreciate them <3

[erwinsvow]

little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

[little-wicked10]

because i liked a boy🩶

Summary: It was all so innocent, dating boys with exes. While Soldier Boy isn’t phased by the scandal, she’s being painted as the slut that broke up America’s favorite couple.

Warnings: Smut 18+, angst, cursing, bullying/threats (from public/media and coworkers), drugs, daddy kink, breeding kink

Notes: Inspired by the song “because i liked a boy” by Sabrina Carpenter.

//

‘Home wrecker.’

‘Slut.’

Cruel jabs whispered under people’s breath as she walked through the office. It took all her strength not to turn and respond, to not show an inkling of acknowledgement at their hurtful words. She wouldn’t let them see how upset she actually was at the swirling media storm. It seemed the only newspapers and magazines anyone was interested in had her and Soldier Boy plastered all over it. The compromising picture of her straddling the supe’s lap was printed everywhere. The headlines only made it worse.

‘Assistant Steals Soldier Boy from Crimson Countess’

‘Home wrecker Breaks Up America’s Power Couple’

‘Crimson Countess Blindsided by Gold Digger Secretary’

Perception is reality, and she was being perceived as the slut that tricked Soldier Boy into cheating. None of it was true, but who would believe her? She could scream from the roof tops the truth of the situation, and no one would listen. The only person who had the authority to put a stop to the situation was out of the country on a mission with his “heartbroken girlfriend”. She was on her own. Left to the hyenas to be picked off.

America would be shocked to find out the power couple they so loved to fawn over was bullshit. A fabricated relationship for publicity. While the two supes had dated in the beginning, it didn’t last longer than three months with a rough on and off period for the rest of that year. They only kept up the charade for the cameras and the increase in paycheck.

To the public, Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess were a strong united front. It was behind closed doors that he was hers. Sure, it started out as just casually hooking up, but the amazing sex turned into meaningful conversation then something deeper. She knew it was wrong to be involved with a man that was basically her boss and the most famous supe in the world. But, he was convincing and persistent. Plus, it wasn’t like he was ACTUALLY committed to his fake girlfriend.

She sat down at her desk with a huff. Just when she thought she had escaped the scrutinizing, she saw what had been left for her. All across her desk was what could only be described as hate mail. Pieces of paper scrolled with vile words and threats. The deeper she read into the pile, the more distressed she became. Fear gripped her stomach and tears burned in her eyes with every note.

Beneath the mess, her fingers felt grooves in the surface of her desk. Her hands shook as she pushed aside all the papers to reveal something horrifying. In big bold letters, the word ‘WHORE!’ was carved into the wood. She clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her frightened scream. “Oh my god,” the tears fell as she buried her face in her hands, quietly crying.

There was nothing she could do. Ben wasn’t there. Vought wouldn’t help. No one would help or even believe her side of things. She was utterly alone. Utterly at the mercy of the lynch mob looking for someone to blame.

//

Ben had barely been home a few hours, hadn’t even taken his suit off, when he heard her incessant knocking. A playful smirk adorned his face as he strode through his living room. The last thing he expected when he answered his door was his favorite girl sobbing uncontrollably. Before he could say anything, she threw herself into his arms, wailing into his chest as her body trembled.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What’s goin’ on?” he gently wrapped her up in his arms, “I was only gone a week, doll. What’s with the water works?”

“They know! Everyone knows!”

“Who knows? What are you talkin’ about, honey?” her panicked heart rate made him uneasy.

“Someone saw us! It’s everywhere, Ben! They’re saying I broke you and Countess up,” she cried before handing him a magazine, “Look!”

Ben took it from her as she began to pace towards his living room. His eyes scanned over the cover photo and headline: an intimate picture of them titled, “Secretary Steals America’s Hero.” What bullshit. The supe simply shook his head and chuckled, “Honey, this has got you so upset? Some sleazy tabloid?”

She stopped her pacing and turned back to him, “It’s not just in the sleazy tabloids! It’s everywhere! They’re calling me a slut and a home wrecker!”

He rolled his eyes as he tossed the magazine aside, stepping towards her, “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just some assholes trying to get a bigger paycheck.”

“Not the end of the world?!?” she nearly screeched, “You’re only saying that because YOU’RE not the one getting dragged through hot coals!“

“Baby, baby, relax,” he held her by her shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles in an attempt to comfort her, “It’ll all blow over. Vought will take care of it. Be like it never happened.”

She trembled in his hold, “You haven’t been here the last three days. Vought hasn’t done a damn thing! Why would they do anything for some supe chasing gold digger that weaseled her way between America’s sweethearts?!?”

Ben couldn’t help the eye roll at the dumb nickname for him and Countess. If the media vultures had cared to follow him more closely, they’d realize he’d been “cheating” on his “girlfriend” for some time now. Hookers, groupies, celebrities, co-workers, any piece of ass he could get his hands on were fair game long before his current relationship came along. It was Vought’s insane damage control that kept up his squeaky clean, all-American boy image.

“This isn’t gonna blow over! They’re probably gonna fire me! Everyone in the Tower already hates me,” she sobbed, “I’m getting death threats!”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Death threats? From who?”

“I-I dont know. They covered my desk in letters telling me to k-kill myself and just…just fucking fucked up shit,” she wiped her eyes frantically, “They carved ‘whore’ into my desk!”

Ben felt his blood boil, anger turning his green eyes darker, “Show me.”

Her fearful eyes finally met his, “I-I can’t go back down there.”

His hold shifted to place her face between his large palms, “Show me. Now.”

//

The entire floor became eerily still when they stepped off the elevator. She tried not to shrink into the intimidating supe as he strode towards her vandalized office. People whispered, and he heard everything they were saying.

“Look who went running to her sugar daddy.”

“How can she show her face here? With him?”

“What does he even see in her?”

Each comment set him on fire, fueled him to see what these sheep had done while he was away. When they reached her office, he all but broke the door off its hinges. She leaned against a wall as she watched him stalk around the scene of the crime. Ben’s brow furrowed as he waded through the pile on her desk. It had grown since she was last in the office. His jaw set harder with every threat, insult, and accusation he read. The final straw was when he set his eyes on the carved wooden surface. It set him off.

In the blink of an eye, he smashed the word, and the desk, in half with his shield. The force was so great that the papers exploded across the room. Fury radiated off him in waves. Running a gloved hand over his facial hair, he paced towards her. She whimpered before he pulled her into his arms and pet her hair. “I’m sorry, honey,” he mumbled kissing her hair, “Go upstairs. I’ll take care of this.”

She shifted to look up at him, “What are you gonna do?”

He shook his head, “Do as I say. Go wait upstairs. Now.”

//

It been hours since he gave his stern order to go wait in his apartment. She nervously sat on his bed smoking a joint in one of his t-shirts, the drug calming her nerves enough to ease some of her stress. She’d barely been able to roll it with her hands trembling so fiercely. There was no telling what Ben was going to do. One could only hope he didn’t kill anyone. He was an all or nothing type of man with everything he did.

When he was a playboy, there wasn’t enough tail or drugs to go around.

When he’s in a real relationship, he was as loyal as a dog.

So, when he said he was going to take care of a problem, he’d fucking obliterate it.

She was jolted from her worrying thoughts when she heard the front door slam shut. Quickly slipping off the bed, she rushed into the other room to see Ben pouring himself a drink at the bar. Her eyes scanned over him, checking for blood and wounds, before approaching him. “W-What happened?” she quietly asked.

He threw back the amber liquor before setting down the glass with a clatter, “It was Countess. She told the press where to find us.”

Her breath caught in her throat, “W-Why would s-she do that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at her, “Ya know what they say, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ or some bullshit like that. Now I know why she was actin’ so fuckin’ crazy.”

Countess had been throwing herself at him the full seven days of the mission. She pulled out every trick in her book she knew use to get his engine going. The more Countess tried, the more annoyed he got. It all came to a head when he walked into his tent to find her naked on his cot. She was obviously counting on him still being a complete scumbag like when they dated. Needless to say he blew a fuse on the bitch.

“She did this..for what? To get you back?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s over and taken care of. No one will be bothering you again,” his voice was stern even as he gently held her, “‘M sorry, honey. I shoulda been here.”

“You were doing your job.”

“My job is also takin’ care of my lady,” he kissed her forehead before pecking her lips, “Speaking of, you feel like lettin’ me take care of you? Put this fucked up mess out of both our minds?”

Her small smile made him smile, “I’d be okay with that. Show my appreciation for the man who’s willing to burn down a whole floor of Vought tower for me.”

Giggling wildly as he picked her up, Ben carried her to the bathroom for a shower. He set her down on the marble counter before walking over to flip on the water. After plucking the joint from between her fingers, he placed it between his lips and began to puff away as he took his suit off. She playfully turned her head to the side, admiring his chest and abs as he worked on his belt. A puff of smoke came out when he chuckled at her, “Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Not yet,” she bit her lip.

He pulled the joint from his lips before dropping his pants, “You need a good ass spanking sometimes, ya know that?”

“And you’re more than happy to give me one,” she slipped out of her shirt and threw it at him.

The fabric hit his chest and fell to the marbled floor. Ben stepped over the discarded clothes, dick proudly at attention, to stand before her looking like a Greek god. He discarded the smoke in an ash tray by the sink before pulling her to the edge of the counter. She squealed happily and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. Their lips met in a sweet and passionate kiss, rough hands pawing at her hips and waist.

Ben moaned into her kiss. Fuck, he missed her. He had missed her lips, her touch, her cute little noises she makes when he bites right under her ear. They’d been separated longer than a week before, but the past events had him feeling anxious. An underlying worry that this shit show might have ruined a good thing.

“Need a stiff reminder of why I fell in love with you,” she giggled into his kiss which quickly turned to a moan.

His deep laugh reverberated against the bathroom walls, “Thought it was my sparkling personality and good looks?”

A smirk adorned her pretty lips as her hand traveled down and rubbed his hard on, “Don’t make me lie to you, stud.”

He playfully rolled his eyes before yanking her off the counter, spinning her around, and swatting her ass to watch it jiggle. She whimpered and arched her back at the pleasurable sting. Looking into the mirror, Ben towered over her with rippling muscles and hair hanging in his eyes. He looked like a sex god. Her sex god. A large hand trailed up her flushed body before wrapping around her throat. He leaned down, eyes never leaving hers, and growled in her ear before biting it. The shiver that ran down her spine made her arch her ass back into his hips, hard dick settling against her ass.

“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. Seven days without seein’ that beautiful ‘o’ face was fuckin’ torture,” Ben groaned.

The grip on her neck shifted to lay his palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her down to bend over the marble. Her gaze never parted from his, even as he roughly pushed inside her. A pornographic sound that only he could elicit out of her fell from her lips. She stood on her tip toes and tried to push herself up at the uncomfortable stretch. A strong hand on her hip pulled her back onto his cock while the other bent her over again, “Nuh uh, get off your toes.”

“I-It’s too much, d-d-…,” she stopped herself when embarrassment sat in her stomach.

Ben kept her ass flush with his hips, lightly rutting against her causing her to whimper, “I know it is, baby. I gotta reshape this pussy every time I come back.”

She cried out when he roughly snapped his hips, “Fuck, daddy!”

“There it is. That so hard?” Ben chuckled into her ear as he leant over her.

The whole time they never broke eye contact. She’d fought the urge to roll her eyes into her head, the need to please and see him more important. She reached back and thread her fingers through his soft hair as he began a slow, powerful rhythm. Every thrust nearly knocked the air from her lungs. His animalistic moans and groans went directly into her ear, “You miss daddy? This fuckin’ pussy sure did.”

“Yes! Yes, daddy, I missed you so fucking much!” she cried.

“Push them hips back, darlin’. Show me how much you missed me,” he smirked as he sunk his teeth into her neck.

He broke the eye contact which gave her the go ahead for her eyes to disappear into her head, hips frantically meeting his. She begged for more in between pathetic moans. His smirk branded into her skin over his bite mark as he realized she had become cock drunk. “N-No one does i-it like you, daddy! M-More please, please!” she cried.

Ben looked back into the mirror when he felt her walls fluttering and getting tight around him. It only spurred him to fuck her harder, like a feral beast in rut. He watched her face contort in pure ecstasy as she climbed higher and higher towards gushing all over his cock. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful!” he moaned as he fucked her with a determination, “I fuckin’ love you! Love fuckin’ you, and I fuckin’ love you!”

“I love you too, Ben!”

“I’m yours, baby. You’re mine. So, I’m gonna put a baby in ya,” he growled as his large hand wrapped around her throat, “Want me to do that? I’d love to see a nice shot of you in the tabloids carrying my baby.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she choked out as she teetered on the edge.

His other hand snaked down and pinched her clit, and she came. The obscene sound of her release splashing on the bathroom floor filled the room. Ben didn’t stop. He kept going, pushing her first orgasm into another. Her body shook violently as the pleasure racked through her like she’d been electrocuted. A dark laugh fell from his lips when he felt her knees buckle and he had to hold her up, “Almost there, darlin’. Stay with me.” She could only weakly nod and moaned when his fingers flexed around her neck. Her brain was so fuzzy and fucked out.

Ben felt her legs trembling as he chased after his own high. It felt like the second his mind shifted to his own pleasure, the band snapped. He thrust his hips as deep as he could inside her and came with a loud roar. The feeling of him cumming inside her made her whine and whimper. “Right where it belongs!” he growled through gritted teeth.

Once his hips finally stilled, Ben slowly released her neck and saw a light bruise forming in the shape of his hand. He kissed the mark to try and coax her back to earth. A shudder went through her body beneath his when he pulled out. His spend began to leak out and onto her thighs. “I really rocked your world, didn’t I?” he smiled as he stepped back to look at the mess he made.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she panted.

“I wouldn’t talk when I’m literally drippin’ out of you,” he smiled as he leaned down to watch it.

Once he was done admiring his baby making juice seeping out, he stood up straight and helped her stand up to sweep her into his arms. She cuddled into his sweaty chest as he walked towards the still running shower. She wiggled in his grasp, “No, it’s gonna be cold now.”

Ben shook his head before stepping into the steam and still hot water, “One of the perks of being the top dog is the best amenities money can buy.”

Even after setting her down, she still cuddled into his chest and enjoyed his arms around her. He pet her hair lovingly before resting his chin on top of her head. A content sigh left his chest. A small kiss was placed over his heart. He’d done what he said. It felt like the entire scandal and events of the day were far away and far gone. He’d be damned if he’d let any of those vultures upset his woman like that again.

[arachine]

something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two + link to part three

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

[pearlymel]

Ooo I know! It's just a little thought

What if capitano and y/n had their first fight in front of their kid?

"I told you I'm fine." You try convincing your ever so worried husband for the nth time.

The thing was, ever since you gave birth to your daughter, it's like he had a leash on you, not in a bad way. Capitano only wants to protect you and his daughter, and knowing his position as the fatui Harbinger, it had become difficult to keep an eye on both of you 24/7. So he trusts that you would tell him everything by the end of the day.

Capitano's protective nature was both endearing and infuriating at times, but you often appreciated his care. Today, however, his overprotective streak was starting to get under your skin.

The argument started as a simple disagreement about a minor decision, but had quickly escalated into a fiercer discussion.

"i want to keep you and our family safe." He said firmly, and he wishes you'd stop there to understand him.

"I only brought her with me to the market so she can learn how to socialize with people, and for her to experience picking treats with me."

"You were fine this time." he retorted, his voice taking on a slightly higher tone. "But what about the next time?"

You grit your teeth together in frustration, because really, this is getting ridiculous. "Maybe if you didn't think so much about it—"

He doesn't even let you finish before he speaks back, "How can I not think about it? Every time you leave this house, every time you're out of my sight, I can't help but worry." He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, it's rare that he's ever arguing with you, usually when you're upset with eachother, he usually stays quiet.

"You don't understand. My job has shown me the worst of Humanity, the things they're capable of. I just want to keep you safe." Capitano holds on both sides of your arms, "i trust my men enough to accompany you. But i can never be truly sure that you're safe without me." He's upset, you know it by the way his eyebrows wrinkle together.

But you're not convinced just yet, "our daughter wants to go to the park sometimes. Do you know how many times i had to stop myself from refusing her everytime she frowns at me?"

Capitano's expression hardened again at your words, his jaw clenching tightly. "The park is dangerous," he argued back while applying a bit more pressure on your arms, "It's too open, too vulnerable. There are too many unknowns, too much that could potentially harm you and our daughter."

"It's not like we are going to die." You bluntly respond and it makes his eyes widen, even the sentence makes him shiver. He's one and only fear, not seeing you both because of one mistake.

Just as he parted his lips to answer back, a faint sound—a sneeze coming from the corner of the closet. One you recognise so well that it makes you stiffen in your place, and you notice Capitano pressing his lips into a thin line.

You both turn your heads until met by the little girl attempting and failing to hide on the side of the giant closet.

"she's watching," you whisper, glancing back at him and he nods before sliding his hands off you.

"You can come out," he called gently, his voice softer than the previous argument.

He knelt down on one knee as she stepped out from her hiding spot, his eyes wide with innocence and remorse for the argument she had witnessed. "Come here." He encouraged her, his arms opened slightly for her. And she hesitantly walks at first before taking confident steps towards the comfort of her father's embrace.

You join them after, kneeling down at their level and your husband opens his other arm to squeeze you in with them. Capitano's arm wrapped around her small form, holding her close against his chest.

"I'm sorry you saw us arguing," he murmured, "We didn't mean for you to hear all that." You continue softly.

Your daughter's head turned towards you, her eyes filling with tears as she heard your apologies. She looked between you and Capitano, her lower lip trembling slightly. It's like children can mimick their parents current emotions.

"Your mother and I just had a disagreement. We didn't mean to scare you."

"is everything okay?" She whispers quietly while fidgeting with her fingers together, "Yes." You both instantly respond.

her expression is still uncertain. "We promise," you reassured her again before he gives further more reassurance "Everything's okay, angel. Mama and papa are fine. We're not mad at each other. We're just... going to talk things through, okay?"

She then starts slowly nodding, "that's my brave girl." His lips curl upwards as he strokes the strands of her hair.

"and we will take you to the park."

Your daughter's eyes widened, a small gasp of happiness escaping her lips. She looked up at you, her eyes seem to sparkle even.

Meanwhile, Capitano's eyes narrowed at your declaration. He shot you a warning look, silently reminding you of his previous disagreement.

"... With your father of course." You laugh quietly and his shoulders seem to relax, "fine. We will all go."

"yay! Swings!" The little girl grins while excitedly holding her hands together.

"well, aren't you weak for the little angel?" You whisper to your husband, giving him a small smile, already having forgotten about your argument.

Capitano holds you both closer to him, as if relieved to have this little family in his life, the only thing that makes everything more bearable, "she has me wrapped around her little finger, just like her mother."

The link to my short capitano series :p

[loveluvrs]

unfamiliar l lando norris x reader

request/summary – reader getting overwhelmed (in a good way) at all the care and love lando shows her, despite how she's been treated her whole life

author's notes – this is just pure fluff, ive had no motivation lately so please send requests!! 🙏

Lando and I are at his parents’ house for dinner, and I’m helping his mum wash the dishes and clean up afterwards when I accidentally drop one of the glasses. The glass shatters everywhere, and I immediately panic. I start apologizing profusely since usually my family would get mad if I broke something. Lando froze as the glass dropped onto the floor, and he immediately processed the way I was apologizing out of habit. He wrapped his arms around me to calm me down, speaking to me softly, “hey, hey, hey… its alright, baby… are you okay?”

“Yeah but I dropped the glass and it fell everywhere and now you’re gonna have to clean it up and-“ I begin to ramble on nervously. He squeezed his arms around me lovingly to cut me off. “I know, my love, I know. I heard when you dropped it, but are you alright? Did you get cut anywhere by the broken glass?”

I stopped as I lifted my head up to look at him. “…You’re not mad?” I asked quietly. “No, of course not… it was an accident. The important thing is that you’re okay, and you’re not hurt,” he says softly as his hand rubs my back lovingly in the hug. I frown, my heart aching from the care and consideration he was showing towards me. “I’m alright,” I mumble. 

The frown on your face made Lando’s heart drop for a second. He knew you never had a great relationship with your parents, but it was only at this moment that he realized you weren’t at all used to the love he was giving you. He didn’t like the thought of someone ever getting upset at his girl for a small accident like dropping a glass, and he knew of course that she wouldn’t have said anything back. He sighs. “As long as you’re okay, baby, that’s what matters…” he says softly. 

“I did get just a small cut, though,” I say quietly as I turn over my hand to Lando. He instinctively ran his finger over the cut, figuring out how bad it was. It was a small cut, but he couldn’t help but worry. “Doesn’t look too bad… does it hurt much?” He asks with concern lacing his voice in each word. I shake my head no as I say, “just stings a tiny bit,” trying to downplay the injury. 

Lando brought me upstairs, sitting me down on the bed in his childhood room. He washed off the cut and wrapped a bandage around it, tending to me with extreme care the whole time. 

“How come you’re not mad?” I asked curiously. He smiles softly as he looks up at me, speaking in a soft and gentle tone to not worry me. “I’m not mad because it doesn’t make sense for me being mad. It was an accident. You shouldn’t be yelled at for accidentally dropping a glass. I was just worried if you were hurt or not, that’s the only thing I care about.”

I frown as I feel his words pull at my heartstrings. “I love you, thank you for treating me like this,” I say softly. I look down at him, still kneeling in front of me with my hand in his. “I love you too, baby, and I’m always going to treat you like this. I’d gladly rather take some pain from you, just to make sure you’re safe and happy. It’s really just not worth it getting mad over something like this, especially not getting mad at you,” he says with the utmost gentleness. 

“It’s just so…. different to what I’m used to. I never know how to act when you give me all this love, Lan,” I say as I interlock our fingers. He gives a sympathetic smile. He hates how you were trying to process the amount of love he was giving you. He knew you had always been so used to people giving you a hard time over minor things, so much so that being shown love was so foreign to you. His heart aches as he thinks about how hero desperately wants to change all of that and love you in every way possible. “I know, my love. Just try your best, because I’m going to keep giving you a whole bunch of love,” he teases. 

I sniffled as my eyes became glossy with tears. “I’m- I’m sorry. I just- I love you so much,” I muttered as I tried to hold back my tears. Lando immediately wiped away my tears with the pad of his thumb, his touch gentle and as light as a feather. He lets out a sigh. “I love you too. So much. And don’t ever apologize to me for showing your emotion, hmm?” He says as he brushes a hand through my hair. 

I sniffle once more, the sobs forming at the back of my throat. “I just- you show me how you care about me so much. and I don’t know how to react to these things. I don’t know how to show you I love and care about you just as much,” I say with a frown. 

Lando squeezes my hand. “That’s okay.. Just do whatever you’re comfortable with doing, you hear me? I know you’re not used to all of it, so all I really need is you being comfortable with me. That’s it,” he says softly as he places a kiss on the back of my hand. At his words, I hold my arms wide for a hug, as his hands wrap around my waist, my face burrowing in the crook of his neck. “I’ll help clean up the mess, I promise,” I mutter into his neck. 

Lando pulls back ever so slightly from the hug so he can see my face. “You can if you want to. But baby, why do you feel the need to do all this? I mean, yeah I want the glass cleaned up, but my mum and I can do that ourselves while you can just relax?” He asks in confusion. 

“i just- i dont know. it always feels like i need to compensate with doing work for others so that they don’t get mad at me and they still like me,” I murmur quietly. “Aaaaand see… there is the problem. You feel like you need to compensate and do work for others so that they don’t get mad and stay with you. But you don’t have to compensate for me… or my mum… the two of us would be perfectly happy with you just enjoying your time here and not dealing with the cleanup…” Lando says as he tilts my chin up ever so slightly so I look at him in the eyes. 

“But how are you gonna love me if I don’t do things for you guys?” I ask with a frown. 

“I love you for who you are as a person, baby. It's okay for you to do things for me for the sake of showing that you love me or whatnot... but you don't need to do extra things just to make me or my mom like you, or just to make sure I don't leave you. Does that make sense?” He says softly. I fidget with my fingers nervously at his words. 

“Babe, what's wrong...?” He asks with a small sigh. 

“It’s just all so unfamiliar…” I whisper quietly into his neck. Lando traces circles into the small of my back as he hears this, “mhm, I know it is… I’m just trying to make it less unfamiliar to you. It might take some time, but I’ll be here the whole time so you can get used to it.”

He pulled back from the hug as he held my hand again, still making sure that he was gentle. “I’m just scared it won’t ever be familiar to me,” I confess in a hushed whisper. 

Lando immediately frowned at my words, as he felt his heart ache a little, “hey, don’t be scared of that… because I’m going to take care of you the whole time, yeah? I’m gonna make sure that it eventually will be familiar for you. That it’ll be normal for you.” He rubs his thumb over my hand, looking at me with loving eyes. “You’ll get used to this… to being treated this way… to the love… I promise.”

I nod. “Thank you for taking care of me,” I say every so softly. “No need to thank me, just the bare minimum for my girl, hmm?” He says as he pulls me in for a short kiss. And just for that one moment, he needed me to feel like there was nothing wrong with all the love he was giving me, that there was nothing else I ever deserved in the whole world. 

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part seven) (end)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three | four | five | six

» masterlist

When you wake up in your cabin the next morning, it’s the first time since you arrived at camp that you wish you were waking up in your own bed back home.

Because after the way everything came crashing down on you yesterday, you don’t want to face what’s waiting for you.

At best, you have three weeks left of the season, of living with Ami after she broke your trust, of dealing with whatever’s going on with Zach if Malcolm’s words on the field didn’t make their way to the directors.

At worst, you and Zach get fired. And if your season really is cut short and you’re kicked out of here, you’re worried he’d only see you as the rule he broke, the girl who played a role in ruining something so important to him.

You check your phone to see the text exchange you had with Zach a few minutes after you left him outside last night. He had texted I’m sorry. You replied me, too.

You’re not sure how to even have this conversation. He was clearly upset with you last night and you can understand why he would be.

But at the same time, you’re uneasy thinking about the night you first told him that Ami knew about you two. He said he was okay with it, and now you’re not so sure, because last night, he texted that all was good, but it seemed like he was anything but good when you ran into him.

Zach had told you he’s not always upfront about when something’s bothering him. You know it’s simply a piece of who he is – it’s not personal. But you can’t rid yourself of the ache in your heart when you realize that even after you’ve shared so much together, you’re no exception. He keeps things from you, too.

You get ready for the day, deeply wishing your secret relationship had stayed secret.

You’re sitting with your campers in the dining hall when Ami approaches your table a few minutes into breakfast.

“Can we talk real quick?” she says quietly, cupping a hand around the inside of your elbow. You nod, following her outside.

“I am so, so, so sorry,” she says once you’re out of earshot from everyone. “I totally get why Zach’s mad and I get if you’re mad, too. I chewed Malcolm out for it first thing this morning for what it’s worth.”

You wish you knew firsthand how Zach is feeling instead of hearing through Ami. You figure she heard through Malcolm, but it hurts that you haven’t spoken to him yet.

“Why’d you tell him?” you say with a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms.

“It honestly slipped out,” she begins. “You know how I told you I thought things were starting to get serious?”

“Yeah.”

“The night before the game, I asked him if he sees anything in the future with us and…” Ami shakes her head, her frown deepening. “He was all like, this is just a fun thing for the summer. But I just kept trying to convince him and then I blurted out you and Zach are planning to stay together, so why couldn’t we?”

She sighs.

“I’m so mad at myself,” she says. “I started this fling with him agreeing it was casual, but I caught feelings and embarrassed myself and told your secret in the process.”

You take a moment, genuinely empathetic of her heartbreak. If Zach had told you he didn’t want to pursue things with you after the season, you’d be gutted.

“I’m sorry he did that,” you say.

“It’s okay. He wasn’t mean or anything. Just honest.”

You nod, figuring as much. You’re not surprised to hear that Zach’s best friend wasn’t unkind about it. Zach wouldn’t be the type to willingly surround himself with mean people.

“I really am sorry,” Ami says. “When I yelled at him about it, he said he knew not to say it loud enough for Ruby or any of the kids to hear.”

“But other counselors were around,” you say.

“That’s what I said,” she sighs. “And I swear, I told him not to tell anyone, but he was like, if any staff take it seriously, I’ll say I was just kidding around. But he apologized and I could tell he felt really bad. Apparently, he’d never seen Zach that upset.”

You look down at the grass, wishing the weight of regret on your shoulders was enough to erase it from ever even happening.

“Are we still friends?” she asks. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually this dumb, I swear.”

You exhale slowly. You can tell she’s devastated. And what’s done is done.

“You’re not dumb,” you tell her. “I’m convinced there’s something in the air here that makes it hard to keep secrets.”

Ami gives you a grateful smile, chuckling softly, clearly remembering the stories you told her all about the close calls you had with Zach.

“I can get on board with that theory,” she says.

“Do you think Ruby heard? Or if any other counselors took Malcolm seriously?” you ask.

She takes a moment, then shrugs.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “All I remember is being really mad at him. Did she say anything to you or to Zach?”

“Not to me,” you say. “I don’t know about Zach. We only talked for like a minute last night. It was weird.”

“Weird?”

You nod, relieved you can at least find some sort of release with venting to her about this.

“I think he was upset with me, but didn’t want to say so. And I didn’t want to force him to talk, so I left. We said sorry to each other over text. Things just… feel off.”

“Please don’t tell me my big mouth broke up the cutest couple ever,” she says.

“Ever?” you laugh.

“Ever.”

She gives you a quick, appreciative hug before you both have to run back inside.

You meet Zach’s eyes a few times through breakfast. Even though he’s all the way across the big, loud hall, the air between you feels stiff.

Of all the difficult things you’re feeling, the sharp sense of guilt is the most overwhelming. Even though he was the one who took the first step, asking to kiss you that night by the lake, you wish you’d have resisted the temptation.

Because you know that however much anxiety you’re feeling, he’s feeling it a hundred times worse.

When Zach sets out to the pitch after breakfast, surrounded by boisterous kids, he accepts that the hope that he’d feel better after getting some food in him was misguided.

He’s always hated when his thoughts race like this. There’s no clear right answer, no obvious way to fix this. And while he’d like to listen to his impulse to ignore the discomfort, there’s no way to do that.

He knows he needs to talk to you. He’d do anything to fast forward past the serious conversation and get back to how things were.

There’s a very real chance that your relationship has been exposed. It’d be so embarrassing to have to face his aunt and uncle after breaking the one big rule, when he, of all the staff, is supposed to know better.

He’s not sure they’d really even go through firing anyone and would possibly just settle for a warning, but them finding out would be punishment enough for Zach.

He takes the fact that neither Ruby nor Tom have approached him since the game yesterday as a good sign. Plus, Malcolm assured him that whoever heard his words on the field wouldn’t take it seriously. But there’s never a guarantee.

Zach doesn’t like being mad. But he is. At his best friend. At his girlfriend. At himself. He tries to throw himself into work, pretending like the unsettled feeling hanging over him isn’t there.

By the end of the day, you still haven’t had a chance to speak to Zach. And now that you’re even closer to being found out, you’d rather not take the risk of talking in a public place.

So, you check the schedule to see that the next time one of you has an empty cabin is two days from now, when Malcolm is on an overnight shift.

Before dinner, you text Zach: want to talk on thursday night when malcolm’s gone? i think it’s best we have privacy.

He replies: yes. smart.

And then, because he can’t help himself, because he’s afraid he screwed up, he texts: miss you.

The message is a reprieve from the stress you’ve been feeling all day. You respond: miss you, too.

When Friday rolls around, Zach feels like he hasn’t spoken to you in years, instead of just days. He rushes to his cabin after lights out, tidying up like he did the first night you came over.

He’s sure in he’s in the clear because he hasn’t been spoken to by his aunt or uncle. They don’t know. While that is a relief, knowing he’s on shaky ground with you is enough to keep him on edge.

You knock quickly and quietly. Zach opens the door. He can’t help himself. He has to hold you.

You close the door and face him and he wraps his arms around you so suddenly that you let out a startled gasp.

“Hey,” he says hoarsely, nuzzled into your neck. You hug him back.

“Hi.” You breathe in his familiar scent, fresh like the morning breeze. He pulls back to see your brows pinched together, your eyes searching his face. He hates that you look surprised that he’s giving you affection.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer on impulse. You shake your head. “Actually, no. I mean, well, we haven’t been fired. That’s good.”

“Yeah. If they knew, they would’ve have said something by now.”

“Right,” you say. You take a deep breath. “But things feel different. With us.”

Zach hates to agree, his lips falling into a small frown. He doesn’t want to do this. He just wants to hold you and kiss you and joke around with you.

“It’s because we had another close call,” he says. “It’s okay. Things are different because we haven’t snuck out to make out in a shed in a while.”

His joke falls flat as you look down at the floor. His hands are still on your waist and when you comfortingly drag yours down to rest on his chest, it slows his thoughts down a little.

“I want you to tell me when you’re not okay,” you mumble when you gaze back up at him.

Zach’s stomach numbs with anxiety. He can feel it rising, the reflex to pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.

“I did,” he says. “I do. Remember the night on the dock?”

You nod. The way he had opened up to you about how he’d struggled with being bullied for being a quiet kid was different. That wasn’t about you.

“I mean I want you to tell me when I’m the reason you’re not okay,” you reply. “I heard from Ami that Malcolm said he’d never seen you so upset.”

“Because I was mad at him,” Zach half-chuckles. “And he’s over-exaggerating.”

It’s not entirely true. The conversation had been the most tense one they’d ever had.

Malcolm was lighthearted about it at first, saying it was a joke and that he was offended that Zach hadn’t told him about how he was breaking rules with you. But once Zach had tersley told him he could have messed everything up for him, Malcolm’s smile disappeared and he apologized profusely.

Zach couldn’t blame him. He’s hardly ever the type be serious. But so much is on the line here.

Confrontation is easier when it’s his best friend of years, but it still isn’t exactly comfortable. So confronting you, a girl he’s helplessly falling in love with, opens the door to an argument and to you deciding he’s too sensitive and not worth the hassle.

“I don’t want to push you,” you tell him, “but I remember you telling me that you get over things on your own and you don’t have to that with me. It’s okay if you’re mad that I told Ami.”

“Baby,” he whispers with a smirk. “What else could you have done? She saw these, right?”

His fingers are featherlight over your collarbone, gently rubbing over the fabric of your shirt. He wonders if the hickeys are still visible.

“I could’ve hidden them better,” you say, “or come up with a lie.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Zach breathes.

A quiet, tense moment passes between you. You’re not convinced.

“Do you promise?” you ask, eyes doleful.

His smirk fades. At this point, he’d be lying straight to your face if he said yes. Seeing you so sad is gut-wrenching. Being dishonest with you while you’re like this would just be wrong.

“It’s… complicated,” he rasps.

You bite your lip. You’re not upset that he’s mad. You’re upset that you had to pry it out of him. Your hands fall off his chest and you step back, swallowing the tears threatening to fall.

“Can we sit?” he asks softly.

You give in, settling on the edge of his bed. He sits next to you. Watching you like this is making every part of him ache, his mouth going dry.

“When you told me you don’t admit when you’re upset,” you say, “I wondered what’d happen when I did something wrong.”

Zach swallows hard. It sounds like you’ve been on edge since that night you went shopping together, holding onto his words.

“So, what, you’ve been on eggshells since then?” he asks, his tone low and sympathetic.

“No. I just mean that problems are bound to come up and I want us to feel comfortable telling the other when they do.”

You expel a deep sigh, crossing your arms. It’s hard to explain, the sense of instability this has been giving you. You want to be able to take him at his word when he says everything’s okay. Not have to wonder and nag him.

It concerns you if this will be the dynamic in your relationship. Maybe it’s too soon, but you can’t shake away the worry.

Zach nervously threads his hand through his hair. He doesn’t know what to say.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” he mumbles regretfully.

You meet his eyes, lips parted in surprise.

“What?” you say. “You should have told me. I don’t want you to suffer alone.”

“Suffer is a stretch,” he says with a small smile.

Again, you don’t laugh. The tension keeps thickening instead of easing, his heart hurting more instead of feeling lighter.

“Hey,” Zach says, placing a warm hand on your forearm, “listen, I just want us to be good again. We would have lost our jobs by now if they knew. They don’t. We’re fine. You’re still my girlfriend, right?”

“Of course.” You uncross your arms to hold his hand, saddened that he’s wary of the possibility of you giving up on him.

“So, let’s just move past this and enjoy what’s left of the summer.”

“And what happens next time I upset you?” you ask.

“I’ll tell you,” he says. You gaze at him, not sure if you can trust him.

“You will?” you ask.

It’s the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of a critical look from you. His heart feels like it cracks down the middle.

This was the spark that catalyzed every break-up he’s gone through.

You’re kind of a pushover, Zach.

Why are you so scared of telling the truth?

You’re a nice guy, but you suck at communication.

It reminds him of when he was a kid, ridiculed for not using his voice, or really, not using it the way people wanted him to.

And it’s too much. Things with you were good and easy until you insisted on pulling his uncomfortable feelings out into the open.

Zach sighs your name, a subtle edge in his tone. He keeps his gaze on the floor, lips firming, grip on your hand loosening.

Despite your intentions to understand him, to have an honest conversation, you realize that you’re doing what you tried to avoid. You’re pushing him.

“Okay. Sorry,” you whisper, moving your hand away.

“This is why I don’t say anything,” he admits. “Because now you’re beating yourself up. I’ll be fine. I am fine.”

“Zach, if I hurt you, you deserve an apology,” you tell him. “And you can’t get one if I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

He runs his fingers through his hair again, wishing he could just go back to how things were a few days ago when you were kissing and touching and laughing together.

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know what to say.

You lick your lips before speaking again. Despite everything, you just want to make him feel better and to figure out what’s next.

“Ami didn’t mean to tell him,” you say. “But since other people heard him during the game, I think we should just get through the rest of this season without taking any risks. Does that work for you?”

The sinking feeling of rejection settles deep in him. Avoiding risk means that you want distance again. And this time will be different. He can feel it. Things between you are so obviously tense. You want space from him and not just because it could get you in trouble.

He swallows down the painful lump in his throat, pushing away the hurt.

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. “If you can resist me.”

Zach meets your eyes with a smile that you know isn’t genuine. You’ve figured out by now that making jokes is his defense mechanism. This time, you let him do what he needs to feel better.

This conversation only broke things down further than fixing them, but even though you’re exasperated, you don’t have it in you to leave him the way you did a few nights ago.

Zach’s muscles lose all their tension when you lean forward, your lips brushing against his. It’s the best reassurance you can give him.

When he kisses back, cradling your face in his hands, your heart hurts a little less. You pull away, staring into his soft blue eyes, surprised how you can mad at someone but also so eager to make them happy.

It’s because it’s Zach. The man who looks out for you, who puts your clothes back on for you after intimacy, who stresses over the very thought of even accidentally hurting you.

After you pull away, he gives you the first genuine smile since you got here. You squeeze his hand before you stand up to leave. He pulls you back for one last kiss.

The following Saturday is the most excited you’ve seen the kids. In the early morning, counselors and campers are set to depart the campground in school buses to a museum that’s currently running a sports science exhibit.

You’ve overheard the vets talk about how field trips are the most exhausting days of the season, but you welcome it. You want the distraction.

After guiding your campers onto your assigned bus, you settle in the first seat behind the driver. Your heart does a flip, somehow both happy and sad, when you realize that the counselor you’re sharing the bus with is Zach, the man you need a distraction from.

His brows raise when he comes up the steps, a smile appearing on his face before he guides kids to fill up the seats. Even though you left things sort of tense, it’s nice that he’s clearly happy to see you.

When he settles on the seat across the aisle from where you’re sitting, he crosses his arms and leans back against the window, biceps bulging under his t-shirt.

“How was the shift?” Zach asks. “The night before a field trip is always a wild card.”

It takes you a moment to realize he looked at the schedule to see you had an overnight shift. Of course he’s checking on you even when you’re not on the best terms.

“Not great,” you admit. One of the girls in your cabin had woken you up after she had a nightmare. You spent a long time calming her down and then had trouble falling back asleep yourself. “I’m thinking I should learn how to do monster checks.”

Zach grins. His heart warms whenever you reference something he’d told you. He loves that you remember his silly little routine with his sister.

“Do I have to teach you everything?” he says with a sigh.

You laugh and fight the impulse to shift over and sit next to him. Despite the fragile state you left things in, you miss touching him.

Throughout the bus ride, you’re both in lively conversation with the campers. You notice that Oliver clings to Zach, talking with other kids but always close to his counselor. He clearly has found comfort in him and of course, Zach shows him nothing but endless patience and kindness.

You can’t forget how he told you Oliver reminds him of himself when he was a kid. It hurts to picture Zach as a kid, shy and reserved, needing to stay close to an authority figure so he doesn’t get made fun of.

He admitted to you how he spent so much of his childhood sad. Somebody so sweet should never have to be sad.

You glance over at him to catch him staring at you.

“Making it obvious?” he says, echoing what you’d texted him when you teased him for the way he looked at you by the campfire many nights ago.

You wish you could go back to when you were still careless, sneaking around, no conflict wedged between you. But you only nod with a chuckle, looking away.

Minutes before you arrive at the museum, Zach stands and gets everyone’s attention. You gaze up at him as he goes through the rules and reminds everyone that they’re representing the camp today.

It gives you a moment to really take him in, your eyes travelling over his hard jaw and tousled hair. He’s easily the kindest, most charming man you’ve ever met.

He makes a joke about how this is his campers’ chance to prove that they’re better listeners than yours. You gasp and stand, encouraging your girls to prove Zach wrong.

Once you plop back down on your seat, you grab one of the granola bars you packed for the kids just to throw it at Zach. He feigns shock when it hits his chest with a light smack.

“That’s not representing our camp well at all,” he scoffs. He looks at the wrapper and smiles before he rips it. “Mixed berry. Nice.”

“Give it back,” you say.

He takes a bite, looking at you with a smirk.

“What? I didn’t hear that,” he says.

You can’t stifle your laugh when you look away. Zach keeps his eyes on you, imagining a world where he doesn’t have to be your boyfriend in secret. But he feels lucky to be your boyfriend at all.

When you arrive at the museum, you direct your campers in a hectic rush. You’re standing by the bathrooms, trying to keep your campers together, when Malcolm passes by.

“Having fun?” he jokes to you over the noise.

You chuckle awkwardly, considering it’s the first time you’ve spoken with him since the staff game. Ami had told you things with her and Malcolm ended amicably, but she’s been keeping her distance, and since you’re usually with her, you haven’t had any chance to talk to him.

“Loads,” you play along, looking out at the sea of kids through the lobby. After a few seconds, he looks around and kneels closer.

“Hey, my bad about everything,” he says. “I didn’t mean to start any drama.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, sure he can read the regret on your face.

“I was kidding around,” Malcolm explains. “Nobody would believe he’d actually break the rules. You’re obviously special since he did.”

You know he said it to make you feel better, but it has the opposite effect. Without you here, Zach would’ve had another easy, stress-free season, instead of one full of sneaking around and risking his job and reputation.

“I guess so,” is all you can say with a forced laugh.

When it’s finally time to head back to the buses, you’re exhausted. You make sure all your campers are accounted for and you settle in the front seat, wishing it was more comfortable.

You sit with closed eyes, trying to rest while you can, chatter surrounding you.

Zach sits in the front, smirking to himself when he sees you. Your eyelids flutter open and you look around, adorably disoriented. You meet his gaze.

“I’m just resting my eyes,” you say with a sweet chuckle.

“Take a nap if you want,” he says. “I got this covered.”

You smile gratefully and close your eyes again. His eyes travel over your pretty face, taking you in, missing everything about you. He’s never wanted time to go by quickly this badly.

A few days later, the directors announce that there’ll be a comet passing over the campground next Saturday night, falling right in time with the season’s last fun day.

Tom asks Zach to run an errand into town to buy all the binoculars he can find. And because he’s respecting your wish to stay at a distance, Zach invites Malcolm to go with him instead of you.

It doesn’t take you and another first-year counselor, Theo, long to set up blankets on the grass behind the staff cabins on Saturday night.

You had rushed through your dinner and volunteered to do it. At the end of the day, it’d be nice to get a good reference from your bosses. Theo overheard and offered to help, making conversation as you set up.

When the campers and counselors come out, they settle across the field. Ami stands next to you as your eyes quickly find Zach, who’s handing out binoculars.

“Remember to share,” he says to a few kids close to you. He looks down at you as he passes by. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you say. It’s the first thing you’ve said to each other in a week.

“Get a room already,” Ami mumbles quietly after he leaves.

You snort a laugh. You wish.

Tom stands in front of everyone and shares facts about the comet, pointing to where it’ll be seen in the sky and telling everyone that it’ll be visible by binoculars for a few minutes, so there’s no need to fight over them.

You know the kids well enough to know they’ll still find a way to argue.

Once it’s time to search the skies, you gaze up at the stars on the off chance that you’ll see it without binoculars.

“Any luck?” Theo asks, staring up next to you, his binoculars over his eyes. You hear impressed ohh’s scatter over the crowd. “Whoa,” he says a second later.

“No,” you laugh.

He lowers his binoculars and hands them to you. You thank him and try to find the comet, but you can’t see anything but stars through the lenses.

“I can’t see it,” you tell him sadly.

“Here - can I?” Theo says, his hands hovering over your shoulders.

“Sure.” You let him guide you to adjust your angle, his palms firm on your shoulders.

“I think you need to look just a little higher,” he says. You follow his instructions and then you see it. A bright circle with a pale streak of light following it. It’s beautiful.

“Wow,” you say with a big smile.

Everyone’s gazing up at the sky except for Zach. He’s looking at you smiling while Theo has his hands on your shoulders. Another man is touching his girlfriend and she looks happy while he does it.

He shakes his head to himself as frustrating jealousy squeezes his heart. Staying away from you has been tough, but watching someone else touch you is on another level of agony.

After the comet passes, everyone packs up for the night. The kids are still chatting about how cool the comet was as they make their way to the camper cabins.

Ami leaves your cabin for her overnight shift while you shower. You gaze up at the ceiling as you wash your hair, wondering how you already have only seven sleeps left before the end of the season.

On Saturday, parents are arriving to pick up their children and staff will pack up their things and the season will be over. It’s been a long summer, but you’re happy you came – you made money, rekindled your love for soccer, and best of all, met Zach.

You still haven’t spoken with him about what dating will look like when you’re done here, considering your colleges are an hour apart. But at least you don’t have to worry about getting fired anymore. You’re sure it would have left a mark on your relationship.

You settle on your bed in your pajamas, scrolling on your phone for some downtime. Minutes later, there’s a knock on your door.

It’s Zach. And there’s a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“It doesn’t work for me anymore,” he says gruffly.

“What?”

“Not being with you doesn’t work for me anymore.”

You stare at him with parted lips, heat rushing through your body in seconds.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Watching another guy get close to you is too much, okay?” he says. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, recollecting all that happened since the last time you spoke. He seemed fine when he greeted you earlier tonight. Who got close to you since then?

It comes to you in an instant. Theo helped guide you to spot the comet.

“That wasn’t anything,” you tell him.

“It was to me,” he says, the jealousy still ripping through him. “I don’t care who knows about us. I want him to know.”

It’s like he’s another man, not the Zach you know. His lustful stare and his dominating presence and his possessiveness are making your heart pound. Instead of the tension that’s been following you for the past two weeks, the air between you is electric, full of burning anticipation that you’ve both been trying to avoid.

You don’t care about how things were left. And you know you shouldn’t do this. But you’ve never been good at ignoring your impulses when it comes to him.

“Come in,” you say.

Zach doesn’t need to hear another word. Once the door’s shut behind him, his lips meet yours. You tremble under his hot, hard kiss.

His hands are firm against your jaw, gripping you as if you’ll slip away. Your breaths start to quicken as you kiss deeper, his hands pushing you back towards your bed.

Feeling you again, tasting you is an overwhelming relief. It’s like he’s home again. His body is buzzing, his boxers starting to feel tight already.

You let him guide you on your bed, his commanding frame leaning over as you settle on your back. His mouth trails to your throat, kissing you as you cup the back of his neck.

“I’m yours, okay, baby?” you whisper.

Your words make him moan against your skin, his hips bucking against you. He’s been dreaming about this for too long. Once he’s had you, having to keep you at a distance and act like you’re nothing but coworkers is torture.

Desire takes over you, your hand trailing to feel him over his sweatpants. Simply pressing your palm against his hard bulge makes you involuntarily writhe beneath him.

You’ve never had your mouth on him the way he had his mouth on you and now, you desperately want to please him, to show him how he’s the only one you want.

“I miss you so much,” Zach whines. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know. Me, too,” you reassure him. “Lie on your back for me.”

You obeys, letting you perch over him as you kiss him, but he can’t let go of control, not all the way. He pulls your shirt up, a groan of pleasure leaving his mouth when he sees that you’re braless.

You tug your shirt over your head and he roughly pulls you closer by the waist, giving him access to your bare chest, kneading and kissing.

You arch your back, moaning in pleasure as he sucks at your skin. You’re already aching for him, knees growing weak, biting your lip as he tongues you.

It takes all your willpower to pull back, but you shift lower to tug at his sweatpants. He shuffles to let you pull down his pants and boxers in one movement, his cock springing out.

He heatedly takes his shirt off, giving you the view of his naked body that you’ve missed so much.

Zach’s breath hitches when you lean to hold him at his base. Your lips are torturously close to the head of his cock.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his voice thick and hushed. You smile at him. There’s the man you know and love, checking in on you, making sure you’re comfortable.

“I want to,” you say. When you shift to kiss him on his tip, he shudders. This is all he needs, to know you want every part of him, like he wants every part of you.

You swirl your hot tongue over him and he throws his head back in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut. But he wants to watch. He wants to see how you look pleasing him like this.

He meets your eyes as you lock your lips around his length. His head is swimming watching you slowly take him in, pacing yourself, getting his cock wet with your spit.

You pull back with a smack of your lips, stroking him, eyes hard on him.

“Why would I even look at another guy when I have you?” you ask. Zach’s sure he’s never felt this good in his entire life.

You take him in your mouth again, sucking as you start to gently bob up and down. You breathe slowly as you lower to reach his base, quietly gagging when you take him all the way.

Your hot mouth tight around him makes pure euphoria flood his system.

“That’s so good,” he says, strained. “Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”

He lowers his hand to gently lace his fingers through the roots of your hair, applying no pressure, simply just wanting to hold you.

You pull back, your wrist slowly twisting as you pump. The sight of you like this, your lips glossy and your eyes lustful and your fingers wrapped around him, is unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

“You deserve to feel good,” you whisper.

He’s not sure he agrees based on the way he acted the last time you talked in his cabin, but you silence his thoughts when you take him in your mouth again, cheeks hollowing.

Zach’s groans are strained and his breaths are shallow as you suck and lick. The sounds of your mouth against him are near perfection. He knows what’s really perfect is the feeling of being buried deep inside you, both of you wrapped in bliss.

He’s still feeling the flame of jealousy and so badly needs to show you how much you’re his and how much he’s yours. He finds the strength to gently pull your mouth off of him by your roots.

You meet his stare, letting him take full control as he guides you onto your back. The sight of him standing over you, tongue running over his bottom lip as he pulls down your pajama bottoms and panties makes arousal pool in your gut.

Zach leans over, chest heaving and cheeks flushed as one arm holds him up and the other dips between your legs, fingers firmly dragging up and down.

“Tell me only I get to see you like this,” he rasps.

“Only you,” you praise. His touch grants you such elation that you start to feel dizzy. “And only you get to touch me.”

His jaw clenches at your words. He traces circles on your clit, gazing down at you as your breath catches.

“You like how I touch you?” he says.

“Yes,” you moan. “You’re so good at it. You’re so good at everything.”

Zach lowers to kiss you, tongue pressing into your mouth the same moment his finger dips into you. You writhe under his touch, the pressure of his finger inside of you making you moan again.

“More?” he whispers, the pad of his middle finger nudging against your entrance.

“More.”

He slowly sinks a second finger into you, groaning at how tight and wet you are around him. He starts to slowly pump in and out, curling his fingers at the hilt, pulling back just enough to watch your expression.

His movements are slow and firm, and when he starts to rub your clit with his thumb, you clutch his shoulders in deep pleasure.

“Like that,” you whisper. “My good boy.”

The praise makes him feel like he might go insane in the best way. He can’t take the ache anymore. He pulls his fingers out, shifting to grab a condom from your drawer.

You watch him through heavy lids, taking in how perfect every inch of him is, spreading your legs so he can get inside you as soon as possible. Zach lines up against you as he lies over you, his throbbing tip gently pressing against you.

“Ready?” he whispers.

You don’t answer, hungrily gripping the backs of his hips to pull him forward. He groans, in heaven from how much you want him.

He sinks into you completely and it’s a flawless type of pain having to adjust to him so quickly. He pulls back and thrusts back into you hard, lips against yours, mouths open.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, both of you already sweaty, and you pant together as his slams fill you over and over, jolting you, your bed shaking.

“You’re my good girl,” he whispers through sighs. “Mine only.”

Your moans tangle with his, your soft heat squeezes him, and when you wrap your legs around his hips, he wants to live in the moment forever.

Zach knows he loves you. And he knows he has to wait to say it because he’d hate for you to feel pressured to say it back. If he’s lucky, when it’s time, you’ll say it back.

He grinds against your clit with steady friction and he fills you with hard pressure, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“I’m gonna…” you breathe, clenching around him. You can’t finish your sentence, losing your voice as you come, sparks firing through your body.

Feeling you flutter around him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you as he unravels, hips stuttering with sloppy thrusts as his body releases all the tension and hunger and love he has for you.

He collapses on top of you, still hard and inside you, leaving soft kisses on the corner of your lips.

When he finds the strength to stand and clean himself up, he comes back to bed with a warm, damp towel, kissing your bent knee as he gently wipes you, letting you stay on your back and come down from your high.

Zach eventually lies down next to you, cradling your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone as you gaze at each other.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry things were weird with us. I’m sorry I’m so bad at talking about things sometimes.”

You meet his eyes, gently raking his messy hair back, remembering how it’s the first thing you noticed about him.

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry I pushed. I get if it’s hard for you. I just want us to be honest with each other.”

“I was mad,” he admits. “And I already hate being mad, but being mad at you just felt so wrong. I know you didn’t mean for it to come out.”

“Why do you hate being mad, baby?”

“Because I just… I feel weak.”

“Weak?”

“Like I should be able to change the way I’m thinking about it,” he says. “I should be more understanding.”

You let out a soft giggle, kissing the tip of his nose.

“You’re the most understanding person I know,” you tell him. “You can’t control how you feel.”

“I think I feel too much,” Zach confesses. His heart is pounding again. He’s never been so raw with somebody. But the deep adoration in your eyes makes the vulnerability less scary.

“You feel the perfect amount,” you tell him. “Your heart is big and that’s not a flaw.”

He leans closer, kissing you tenderly.

“Please tell me next time,” you whisper. “What’d you say when I didn’t tell you I was sick? I have to let you know when I don’t feel well? It goes both ways.”

He chuckles and kisses you again.

“I will,” he says. “All I’ve been thinking about is you and how I screwed up and how I don’t want to screw up again.”

“All I’ve been thinking about is you and how I can’t wait to be your girlfriend without having to hide it.”

A bigger smile grows on his lips, his eyes softening at your words. You’re a pure ray of sunshine in his life. For once, he’s confident a girl will stick around when she sees just how messy his head can get.

“How often are we going to be seeing each other when we’re out of here, huh?” you ask. “We have a whole hour between us.”

“The distance from your cabin to mine is already hard enough,” he says. You laugh hard and he realizes just how much he missed the sound. “Every weekend, at least.”

“Deal,” you say. At that moment, your stomach lets out a hungry growl and you sigh a chuckle. “I rushed through dinner and I don’t think I ate enough.”

He sits up, collecting your clothes off the bed. You laugh when you watch him tugging your panties over your ankles.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re sneaking into the kitchen,” he says. “You’re not gonna be hungry on my watch.”

The night air is cool as you make your way towards the dining hall. Sure enough, Zach finds a few snacks in the kitchen cabinets to satiate you, sitting on the counter next to you, chatting about what your class schedules will look like when the school year starts.

You get lost in conversation, and an hour later, you’re both almost dozing off. You decide to finally head to bed, rushing out of the hall and towards the staff cabins, hand in hand.

Your shoes crunch against the gravel path past the campground office so loudly that you almost don’t hear your name called.

You rip your hand out of Zach’s and turn to see one of your campers, Jemma, standing close by.

“Hey,” you say, almost frozen in anxiety. She definitely saw you and Zach holding hands. “Why are you out of your cabin?”

“I woke up,” she says with a shrug. “And I couldn’t fall back asleep so I wondered if I could see any more comets. Were you guys just holding hands?”

You don’t know what to say. You clear your throat and shuffle closer to her.

“I’ll walk you back, okay?” you say. “You’re not supposed to be out at night without a counselor.”

You drop Jemma off, the whole walk over filled with you avoiding her questions and asking her about anything you can think of. Zach is in your cabin get back, his eyes wide.

He said he didn’t care who knew earlier tonight, but you know he was overtaken by his emotions. You can tell by his expression that he’s tense. This is bad.

“She saw us,” he says, almost robotically.

“She saw us,” you confirm. You sit next to him on your bed. You figure you should lay it out on the open. “And she loves to talk. And it’s not appropriate to ask her to keep a secret. She’ll tell her friends.”

“I have to tell my aunt and uncle,” he says, “before they hear from one of the kids.”

You meet his eyes. The happiness you were feeling is deflated now, overtaken by dread. You have to accept that your worst fear just came true.

“We have to tell them,” you say. Tears prick at your eyes. “I’ll go with you. I’m so sorry. This screws everything up for you.”

“No,” he says. “I said you were worth the risk and I meant it. I knew going into it that this could happen. It happened. We’ll deal with it.”

“You’re really okay?” you ask.

“I’m weirdly relieved,” Zach admits, looking at you with empathy. “Are you okay? You could get fired.”

“Your job became more important to me than mine a long time ago,” you tell him. “You have more on the line. That’s why I feel so bad.”

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you. I’d do it all again even if I knew it’d end like this.”

“You’re not going to see me as the girl that ruined this place for you?”

“Baby,” he says with a disbelieving exhale. “Of course not. You’re the best part of this place.”

“Really?”

“One hundred and five percent,” he says with a smile, reminding you of how he’d answered the same way when you asked if he’s sure he wants to start secretly dating.

His sweetness is what makes your tears finally fall. He kisses you softly, shushing you and rubbing your back as you dig your head into his chest. You stay like that until you feel too tired to sit up any longer.

The next day, you and Zach meet at the campground office before breakfast as planned. He’s the most nervous you’ve ever seen him as he turns the handle and enters the room, greeting Ruby as she types at her laptop on a circular table.

“Can we sit for a second?” Zach asks.

“Of course,” she says. “What brings you in?”

You settle next to him at the other end of the table, realizing your knees are bouncing in anxiety. He told you he’d take the lead. You glance at his profile, glad he’s still as calm as he seemed last night.

“We, uh…” He looks at you. “We kind of broke the no dating rule. And last night, Jemma saw us holding hands. I wanted to come to you before you heard from anyone else. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” you say, meeting her eyes nervously. “I’m really sorry. And I completely understand if you need to let me go. But please give Zach a little grace.”

“What?” he mumbles. You hadn’t talked about doing this.

“He loves it here,” you tell your boss, the words spilling out of you. “I’m sure you know that already. I’ve never seen someone so passionate about a place. He respects and admires you and Tom so much. The way he talks about this camp and the way he enjoys the job is part of why I’ve grown to love it so much. He’ll be crushed if this ruins his reputation and if he can’t come back to work here. I know I’m in no position to ask for anything, but please spare him.”

“Hey,” Zach says to you softly. He’s so moved that if he didn’t already know he loved you, this would be the moment that sealed it. “It’s okay. I deserve to lose my job.”

“Zach,” Ruby says. You both look at her. “Sweetheart. You really think I didn’t know?”

“What?” you and Zach say in perfect unison.

“I’ve known you all your life,” she says. “I can spot when something’s up with you from a mile away.”

“Wait… what?” he says again. “How? Since when?”

“You’re not one to get mad at the kids for little things. But then we had that barbecue and you,” she says, eyes landing on you, “got hurt because some campers were rough-housing.”

You feel for the now healed burn on your forearm.

“Tom told me all about it, how uncharacteristically angry and worried you got,” Ruby tells Zach, “and then it took less than a day to confirm my suspicions. You really don’t know how obvious you are. You smile like you just won the lottery whenever she’s around.”

You feel your face go hot, butterflies swarming in your stomach. It’s the second time someone’s said Zach seems extra happy around you.

“So, you knew?” he says. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed,” she says with a shrug. “I figured you’d do a good enough job hiding it from everyone. And I’d never fire you. You’re a… what’s Malcolm call it? A nepo baby?”

“Hey,” he says with a relieved laugh.

“Kidding,” she says, eyes darting to you. “I treat all my staff equally. And we’ve never actually fired anyone for dating. We just strongly discourage it because of things like last night. It’s inappropriate if campers see any sort of PDA.”

“We were just holding hands for a second, I swear,” Zach says.

“I know,” she sighs. “But no more cutesy stuff, got it?”

“Got it,” he says. “So we’re not fired?”

“Just go to breakfast and let me enjoy my coffee,” she says with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

As you and Zach head out, Ruby calls him back for a moment. You wait outside for him to make sure everything’s okay.

Zach closes the door behind him, expecting a verbal lashing.

“I like her for you,” Ruby says. He beams, unbelievably relieved.

“You’re really not disappointed?” he asks. He should have known his kind-hearted aunt would be so compassionate.

“Honey, I’m happy,” Ruby says. “Even you need to break rules sometimes. You must really like her if you decided to stop being a goody two-shoes for once.”

“I do,” he says confidently. “And I am not a goody two-shoes.”

“Debatable,” she teases.

When he steps out of the office, you share a sigh of relief, laughing.

“What’d she say?” you ask.

“Changed her mind. I am, in fact, fired.”

You scoff, nudging his shoulder.

“Hey, no touching allowed,” Zach laughs. “Save it for after lights out.”

“Shh,” you laugh, looking around in case anyone heard. “Have you learned nothing?”

He smirks at you.

“Thanks for saying that stuff about me back there,” he says.

“It’s all true,” you reply.

The last week of camp is the fastest of them all. Gossip spreads about you and Zach, but you just deny it whenever kids bring it up, both saying you’re just friends.

Packing up your cabin and saying goodbye at the end of the season is one of the hardest things you’ve done all summer.

Two Months Later

The triple whistle blow signals the end of the game. You’re absolutely spent, hands on your knees, so tired that you can’t even celebrate that you’d just beat an unbeatable team.

Last year, they beat you every single time, but now, you look up at the scoreboard to see your score at 3, and the visitors’ score at 2. Soon enough, your teammates pull you into a hug, the air buzzing with pride and excitement.

The hot shower you take in the locker room after the game is unbelievably rewarding.

You beam when you see Zach standing by the stadium front doors. His face lights up the moment he sees you.

“You were amazing,” he says, pulling you in for a hug and taking your heavy duffle bag for you as the crowds exiting the building surround you. “Did you hear the crowd when you nailed that one tackle in the second half? I was so proud that I told the guy beside me that you’re my girlfriend.”

You laugh, perching up on your toes to quickly kiss him.

“And what’d he say?” you ask.

“He just looked at me like this,” he says, pulling an annoyed expression. You laugh again. “Baby, you killed it. Best defense I’ve ever seen.”

“Now you’re pushing it,” you chuckle.

“I’m serious,” he says. “You’re amazing. Who’d you train with? Obviously a pro.”

“Alright,” you roll your eyes, smiling.

“I mean it. And five.”

You lace your fingers in his, grinning. The more you opened up to each other, learning about how hard it can be for Zach to express his difficult emotions, ‘and five’ became your way to assure each other you mean what you’re saying, a silly reference to how he loves to say ‘one hundred and five percent.’

‘And five’ is your way of saying you promise. That you’re sure. That there’s no reason to doubt anything.

“Wow, and five?” you say. “So, you’re not just trying to flatter me before dinner.”

Zach grins, pulling you in for a hug. You’re set to go to his house to meet his family after you get ready in your dorm.

“You’re sure you’re not too tired?” he asks.

“I don’t care how tired I am,” you say. “I can’t wait to meet them. And seeing Tom and Ruby again will be nice.”

The MacLarens’ house is warm and welcoming, just as you expected. You feel like you already know his parents and sister within minutes and when Zach’s aunt and uncle arrive, it’s comforting to see them, knowing they already like you.

Throughout dinner, Tom and Ruby tease Zach for how obviously lovestruck he was at work all summer. Even his sister joins in, calling him cheesy.

“I hope you know we’re all just joking, sweetie,” Zach’s mother says to you quietly, clearly a bit worried you’ll think they’re being too harsh on your boyfriend.

“I do,” you say kindly. In the time you’ve been together, you’ve joked with Zach that teasing seems to be his love language. It’s sweet seeing him at home, joking with his family, looking up at you every so often to make sure you’re having a good time.

After you say your goodbyes, Zach drives you to your dorm. He pulls up to your building, the back of your hand warm from where he’s been resting his palm.

Every time you’re in his car, you think about the first time you were in it back in the summer, going into town, getting to know him. You’ve been in it so many times since then, driving around and playing your favorite songs.

“Well, thank you again,” you say, relieved to have heard he knows his family loved you, just as he suspected. “I had fun.”

“You fit right in,” Zach says. He hopes it’s not too much, but the longer he’s been with you, the less scared he is of being too much.

You smile at him, proving him right. He doesn’t have to hold back.

“I was thinking something,” he says, “when I was looking at you at dinner.”

“What?”

“That I always knew that things between us didn’t go so fast because of the whole forbidden thing,” he tells you. “They’d go that fast anyway. For me, at least.”

You smile, relieved to hear it. You spent so much of the camp season wondering if the rule you were both living under was the reason things escalated the way they did.

You’ve talked about the summer, reminiscing on your memories, laughing over your favorite moments, finding it hilarious how stressed you both were about the bosses finding out about you when they already knew, but you never dove into how fast your relationship went.

“You have no idea how nice it is to hear that,” you say. “I agree. I would’ve been just as crazy about you if we met outside of work.”

“Me, too,” he says, his dimples caving into his cheeks as he gazes at you. He takes a deep breath, bringing your hand up to his mouth, kissing your palm. “I love you. And you don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know.”

“I love you, too,” you say, feeling weightless. “Obviously.”

“Yeah?” Zach doesn’t know when his heart started pounding this hard, but it’s thudding in his ears.

“Yeah,” you say. “And five.”

He leans close and kisses you over and over, just like he did the first night on the dock.

But this time, instead of saying that you should stop and that this isn’t allowed and that you could get in trouble every time your lips part, you’re whispering that you love each other.

(the end)

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[serpentandlily]

Beneath the Ashes (I/II) - Azriel x Reader

Beneath the Ashes Part I - Azriel x Illyrian!Reader

Summary: Azriel finally finds the girl he’s been looking for all these years—his mate. But unfortunately for him, his mate happens to be an Illyrian who, upset over the fact that he’s turned his back on his own people, wants nothing to do with him. (Enemies to lovers vibes, angst)

a/n: based on this REQUEST. This is going to be a two part story because I kind of went a little too hard writing this haha. Thank you for your request and the inspiration! (Also I know a lot of you asked to be on a taglist for this story but since it’s only 2 parts I’m not gonna make one)

warnings: misogyny, sexism

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Part I of II

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Azriel was not happy, to say the least. Not as he landed on the cold, hard ground of one of the Illyrian war camps in the northern region of the mountains. He internally cursed at Cassian for still being on his mating honeymoon with Nesta because now he was being forced to do things Cass would normally be in charge of—primarily dealing with the Illyrians.

It wasn't a secret that Azriel hated Illyria and all its people. Hated that he came from such a barbaric, backwards culture.  He knew Cass was trying to do all he could to break the traditions Illyrians held, but Azriel had always told him they were a lost cause. If he could never see these damn mountains again, he'd consider it a blessing.

But, evidently, that was not a blessing he'd be allowed—at least, not until Cassian returned. For now, he was the one who was being sent out on these missions by his High Lord. 

Rhys had gotten word that some commotion was happening in the camp that had its people up in arms about something. He had asked Azriel to go check it out and who was he to turn down a request from his brother? So here he was. He was just hoping to get this over with soon. 

He had tried sending his shadows ahead of time to collect intel, but they had been acting weird ever since they returned to him. They had swarmed him with their cryptic messages.

Beautiful.

Our master must see. 

Permission to kill, master?

Needless to say, Azriel had no fucking idea what any of that meant. He had given them no such permission to kill, at least, not until he could see for himself what was transpiring here. 

He was passing by the training rings, ignoring the stares of the brutes who were working out and sparring within them, when he heard several sets of loud voices. He quickened his pace, following the voices into the residential section of the camp until he finally beheld what was causing the commotion. 

Three males were on the porch of one of the cabins, restraining a female Illyrian, who was thrashing around like a wildcat, screaming, "Let me go, you assholes!"

Another male Azriel recognized as the War Lord of the camp was standing on the steps leading up to the small cabin, arms crossed and a sneer on his face. A male next to him was holding a blubbering Illyrian toddler, whose arms were outstretched towards the female with tears pouring down her chubby cheeks. 

None of them had noticed him yet which Azriel used to his advantage. His shadows were already wailing when he let them loose. They spiraled towards the group, swirling around the males holding the female and yanking them away from her. All of their heads snapped in Azriel's direction except for the female. She tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled to get up and rushed towards the male next to the War Lord, not even sparing a glance at what had caused the males to unleash her. 

She went to grab the little girl from the male holding her but was quickly held back by the War Lord with a growl. The War Lord twisted her arms behind her back, holding her in place, but his glare was firmly set on Azriel.

Azriel's face displayed no emotions as he stalked forward, his hand ghosting over Truth-Teller. 

"Shadowsinger," the War Lord bit out in greeting. The other males quickly got to their feet and stood at attention. 

"Silas," Azriel said, not bothering to address him properly which made the male bristle, "Care to explain what is happening here?" 

"None of your business, Shadowsinger," Silas hissed. "I have it under control."

"Doesn't seem like it," Azriel replied, coolly. 

The female was still trying to break out of Silas's grip, cursing under her breath. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to hiss in pain as he twisted her wrists in his hands. Azriel's shadows seemed to hiss in response, poised to attack as soon as Azriel gave them permission. 

Azriel's gaze fell on the female, noting the frustrated tears in her eyes. It seemed like there had been a scuffle. Her hair was half falling out of her braid, she had scrape marks on one of her cheeks, and a bruise was beginning to form on her jaw. One of her wings was flared out proudly while the other drooped to the floor at a weird angle. His fists clenched at the sight and when she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the breath was completely knocked out of his lungs. 

Despite her tattered appearance, she was single-handedly the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He stood frozen for a moment, taken aback before he shook himself out of the spell she seemed to cast on him, realizing how inappropriate of a time it was to be ogling her. 

"Let her go, Silas," Azriel commanded in a dark voice.

"I don't take orders from you," Silas spat out. "Besides, this female has been breaking the law for months now. We're taking her into custody." 

"Fuck you," the female barked out, stomping on Silas's foot. The male cursed and went to strike her on the back of her head but Azriel's shadow caught his wrist in their grasp before he could. 

"I said," Azriel growled, lowly, causing the males to shift in place, "Let her go." 

"Fine," Silas sneered, though a tiny bit of fear flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed her to the ground in front of him. She was quick to spring back to her feet and rush towards the toddler who was still screeching. The male could hardly keep hold of the little girl.

"Let the babe go, too," Azriel snapped. The male scoffed but set the little girl down. She immediately ran to the female who bent down with her arms wide open, catching the little girl and standing with her firmly on her hip. The little girl's cries quieted down and she buried her small face in the female's neck. 

"Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Azriel snarled, taking another step closer. Half the males mirrored his step back and he fought the urge to chuckle. 

"Like I said," Silas snapped, "This female has been breaking the law—”

“What law?” Azriel asked, firmly.

“Females are not permitted to live alone nor own houses,” Silas barked out. “She has ignored our warnings—”

“My father left the cabin to me in his will!” The female shouted, causing the small toddler in her arms to whimper. She stroked the girl's hair, shushing her. “It belongs to me.”

“I don’t care what your father promised you,” Silas growled. “It is against the law for you to be living here alone. You must surrender the cabin and go live in the barracks with the other unwed females of marrying age. Your sister will be placed under the care of the matron.” 

“Like hell I’m leaving her under the care of that female! You’re just going to have her wings clipped and force her to do grueling chores all day! She stays with me!” 

“You are out of line! I knew your father wasn’t raising the two of you right. Ever since your mother passed away—”

 “Don’t you dare say another word about my parents!”  

The War Lord lunged towards the female with a growl but Azriel shadowed between them, unsheathing Truth-Teller and pressing it against the male’s throat. 

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll gut you right here in front of all of your brutes,” Azriel snarled. 

Silas stepped back with a scoff. “You want to stick your nose in our business? Fine, then she’s your problem. I expect her out of this house by the end of today, Shadowsinger, or there will be worse consequences.” 

He stormed away, his entourage trailing behind him while sending glares to the female. Azriel waited until they were out of view before he turned to look at the female but she was gone from next to him, already walking up the steps to the cabin with the babe—her sister—on her hip.

Azriel went to follow her but she stormed into the cabin and slammed the door in his face before he could so much as utter a single word. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he knocked on the door. When Rhys had mentioned a problem happening in this camp, he hadn't expected to deal with something like this. It would’ve been much easier if it had been a problem he could solve with his fists. 

When she didn't answer, he knocked harder—nearly causing the door to shutter. 

It flung open a second later, a seething female behind it. "I already told those assholes I'm not leaving. If you're here to tell me to pack up and move, you can kiss my ass."

Azriel had to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smirk at her words. He wasn't used to dealing with female Illyrians that had attitudes. Most of them kept their heads down and stayed quiet. His mother had been like that....

"I'm not here to tell you that," Azriel answered. "May I come inside?" 

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms and staring him down. He found himself even more amused at how she was trying to intimidate him. Most fae avoided him and his gaze. But a female, whose head barely reached his shoulders, seemed to be completely unfazed by him.  

"No, you may not," she snapped. "Anything you need to say to me can be said perfectly fine from where you're standing." 

“Can I at least bring a healer to come check out your injuries?” He eyed the scrapes on her face, the bruise and her drooping wing. Azriel’s chest ached at the sight and anger pulsed under his skin. He wanted to turn around and go rip those males apart limb by limb for laying a hand on her.

“I don��t need your help, shadowsinger,” she spat out.

"Fine," Azriel sighed. "I was sent by the High Lord because there's been reports of someone here causing disarray. I'm going to assume that someone is you." 

She shrugged, nonchalantly, her eyes flickering between his own and the shadows swirling around him that wouldn't shut up about how beautiful she was, how brave....They were singing her praise. It confused him. His shadows had never acted like this before. 

When she failed to answer, Azriel cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Will you answer my question?”

“Aren’t you the spymaster?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be able to gather intel yourself and not rely on a lowly Illyrian female?”

“A lowly Illyrian female?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at her crass words towards herself.

“Isn’t that how you and all the High Lord’s dogs view us?” Her tone was biting, her eyes filled with hate.

Azriel shifted, at a loss for words. He was used to being met with hostility by the Illyrians, but never usually from the females themselves. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

It was a lousy response, but he truly had no idea what to say. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him and moved from the doorway, grasping the door. 

“Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t care enough to do so,” she snapped. “Now, if that is all, you can kindly escort yourself off my property, shadowsinger. Thank you.”

The door slammed in his face a second later.

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Azriel returned a few hours later with a letter from the High Lord in his hands. He stormed through the camp, once again ignoring all the glares sent his way. He pushed his way inside the main war tent where Silas was sitting at his desk, twirling a dagger in his hands. His dark eyes looked up at him as he walked in, narrowing.

“You’re back,” Silas said, voice dripping with disdain. “I noticed that the female has still not been relocated from the cabin.”

Azriel strode forward and slammed the letter down on his desk. Silas’s eyes dipped down to it, quickly reading the short message before he looked back up at Azriel with a sneer. “What is this?”

“A notice from the High Lord and Lady,” Azriel answered, face unreadable. “Any laws that forbid a female from living alone or owning property are hereby revoked. This repeal shall be set in motion immediately.” 

"I can read just fine, Shadowsinger," Silas snapped. "I meant what the fuck is this? Does Rhysand think he can just snap his fingers and remove laws that have been around for centuries? I refuse to allow this."

"You'll address the High Lord properly or I'll cut your tongue out for your disrespect," Azriel growled. "The High Lord and High Lady can do whatever they want. You will abide by these new laws or your title of War Lord in this camp will be revoked." 

Silas looked like he wanted to say more, a vein in his forehead pulsing, but he only tightened his hands into fists and let out a long breath. "Very well then, Shadowsinger. I assume you've already informed Y/n of this?" 

"Y/n?"

Silas smirked. "You ran to tattle on us to the High Lord and didn't even know the name of the bitch you—"

Before anything else could come out of the War Lord's mouth, Azriel stalked forward and kicked his desk over, causing both Silas and all his paperwork and trinkets to smash on the floor. The War Lord let out a pathetic gasp in fear, scrambling to his feet and pressing himself against the back of the tent.

"Talk about her like that again," Azriel snarled. "And I'll rip out your throat."

Silas quickly tried to school his composure but Azriel could still see the lingering terror in his eyes. Silas straightened out his leathers before glaring at him. "It's nice to see the Illyrian is still in you after all this time, Shadowsinger. Once a brute, always a brute—isn't that what you like to say?" 

Azriel felt his pulse spike at Silas's words. He hated being reminded that he was Illyrian, even more so being compared to the worst of them. He wasn’t even sure why such rage had sparked in him in the first place. Silas's lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the way his words striked through him. But Azriel didn't wait around to hear what else the asshole had to say, letting his raging shadows swoop him into their darkness. 

He stepped out of the shadows and onto the porch of the cabin he had been at earlier. He took several breaths, trying to calm himself before gently knocking on the door. After no one answered for a moment, he lifted his fist to knock again but the door was pulled open, leaving his hand to hover in the air. He dropped it to his side, narrowing his eyebrows as he was met with no one.

"Hewwo."

Azriel nearly jumped in fright before his gaze dropped to the toddler that stood in the doorway. It was the little girl from earlier, Y/n's sister. He swallowed harshly, eyes darting around the foyer of the cabin in hopes that her sister would pop out any second but no one came. He wasn't good with children, and wasn't used to being around them. Nyx was the only child he had ever really been around and he was still a baby. 

Azriel sighed and crouched down on his haunches, making him more eye level for the little girl. Her shoulder length hair was the same color as her sister’s, her eyes too. The resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. 

"Hello there," Azriel said as gently as he could. "Is your sister home by any chance?" 

“Mhm,” the little girl hummed, busy watching the swirling shadows all around him. 

"Do you think you can go get her for me?" 

She shook her head no, her hair bobbing with the motion. 

"Why not?" Azriel asked, keeping his voice light.

"Cause I'll get in trouble," she said with a little lisp. "Mm not 'pposed to open the door." 

Azriel smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. He was surprised that she didn't seem scared of him or his shadows, as most kids were. "Don't worry, I won't tell her you opened the door for me. It can be our little secret."

She looked to be contemplating his promise, her little nose scrunched up. One of his shadows whisked forward and started swirling around her tiny frame. To Azriel's surprise, the little girl giggled, swiping her hand around to try and catch it. 

"Suri, what are you—Get away from her!" 

Y/n came thundering down the hall, yanking her sister away from the doorframe. Azriel stood to his full height, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as she glared at him before turning to look down at her sister.

"Suri, go to your room." 

"No," Suri pouted, crossing her little arms. "I wanna play with the shadows."

Azriel's lips twitched. This was quite possibly the first time a child had ever seemed anything but scared of his shadows. It was oddly endearing. 

"Go to your room," Y/n commanded in a stronger voice. "Now."

Suri stomped her foot but did as she was told, disappearing from his view. 

"What are you doing back here?" She hissed, once her sister was gone. 

Azriel pulled out the other parchment paper he had brought with him, the same notice he had given Silas. He held it out for her. "I came to deliver this." 

She took the paper from him, glancing at him suspiciously. Azriel watched as her pretty doe eyes scanned the parchment, reading Rhysand's elegant script. To his surprise, she started to chuckle to herself. She handed it back to him, her face twisted into a mocking smirk. 

"Do you honestly think this is going to stop them from trying to kick me out of this house?" She asked him, sarcastically. His eyebrows furrowed. "I'm guessing you're going to patrol this camp for a week or two to make sure they're adhering to the notice and then you'll wipe your hands clean of this all, pretending the High Lord solved everything. But you know the day you stop showing up here, Silas will be at my doorstep." 

"I can assure you that we'll do everything we can to make sure all the WarLords follow these new laws," Azriel said, his face unreadable and his voice detached. She shook her head with a smile that lacked any warmth. “I promise you that.”

"Right," she drawled out, "Well, thank you so much for your help, shadowsinger." 

She went to shut the door but Azriel stuck his hand out, catching it before she could. His gaze fell to her drooping wing, still bent at an awkward angle. "Please, let me bring a healer to attend to your wing." 

Her wing could heal on her own. It would probably only take a day or two, but just seeing it made Azriel's chest ache. He knew the pain she must be in. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend like you care about my wings." 

"I've broken a wing before, too," he explained. "I know how much it hurts. Please, let me help you." 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you want to know the difference between my wings and your's, shadowsinger? Your wings healed. You get to fly. Mine will never heal."

Azriel's gaze dropped back to her wings, now noticing the two scars—clipped. Her wings had been clipped. His heart dropped into his stomach, rage bubbling to the surface instead.

"Who?" he growled, his voice ice cold. 

"Like I said," she bit out, "Don't pretend like you care." 

"I do care," Azriel replied, fists clenching. And it was true, he did. Wing clipping was a heinous crime, one that had been outlawed since Rhys was sworn in as the High Lord of the Night Court. Of course, sometimes the practice of wing clipping still took place in remote camps that slipped through the cracks. "Wing clipping has been forbidden since—"

"I am well aware that wing clipping is forbidden," she snapped. "But like your stupid little notice, no one cares. And the High lord and all of his cronies, you included, Shadowsinger, have made it very clear that you don't either." 

"We do care," Azriel argued. "We do. But we cannot keep watch of all the camps at all times. We rely on people reporting it—" 

"Oh, spare me from hearing your excuses," she cut him off with a growl. "Do you want to know who did this to me? Here's a clue—go look in the High Lord's desk for a letter addressed from me. I've been sending one every single day for the past six years so there's bound to be at least one still around." 

"Six...six years?" Azriel questioned, quietly. "You've been sending a letter every day for six years and not one of them was ever answered?"

Sure, Rhysand had been gone for fifty years, of course and the rest of them had been unable to leave Velaris thanks to him. Then, they had been busy with the war and didn’t have time to deal with inner court problems. But it had been two years since then and she was still sending letters. Letters looking for justice for what happened to her. Letters gone unanswered.

"Not a single one," she huffed.

"Y/n...I am so sorry—"

"Save it," she barked out. "Now, if we're done here, I'd like you to leave." 

"Please, let me help you—"

Azriel choked in surprise as something within snapped. He couldn’t breath, taking a single step back as a golden thread weaved its way through the space between him and the female standing before him. 

Before his brain could even process what just happened, the door was slammed in his face. But Azriel stood frozen on her porch. Frozen in shock because he had finally found his mate. After all these years, he had finally found the person he had been searching for. 

And she absolutely hated him. 

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Your wing had healed enough by the next morning that you could lift it off the ground, though it was rather painful to do so. Your pride made you suck it up, not wanting to go to the healer and have anyone touch your wings. No one had laid a hand on your wings since the day they were clipped and you wanted to keep it that way.

You got ready for the day, putting on one of your mother's old white, chemise dresses. It fell to the top of your boots, swishing around your ankles. You layered a dark blue skirt over it before putting on a front lace-up corset. You grimaced as you did up the buttons under your injured wings before you tightened the corset until it fit snuggly. Lastly, you threw on a cloak. It was snowing outside today and the last thing you needed was to freeze to death.

You stepped in the hallway, the cabin quiet. You went to wake up Suri to get her ready for the day. Normally she was still asleep, so you were surprised when you heard her voice the closer you got to the door to her bedroom. 

"Bad doggy," she babbled, her voice muffled through the door. "You can't go in there." 

Your eyes widened, realizing she was talking to someone or something. You quickly slammed her door open, eyes darting around in concern. Suri jumped as her door banged open, spinning around on her bed to look at you. A small shadow wisped behind her, like it was hiding. 

"Suri?" You questioned. "Who were you talking to?" 

"Issy!" Suri sang out, jumping off her bed in her little pajamas. She still called you issy, unable to pronounce your name easily or the word sister. "The doggy came back!"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "The what?"

The shadow darted out from behind Suri, swirling around her and causing the little girl to giggle, "Doggy!"

Your eyes narrowed. One of Azriel's shadows had not only lingered behind, but had been staying with your baby sister. You felt your pulse spike with anger. As if it could sense your emotions, the shadow stopped swirling around and instead pressed itself on the floor like it was bashful and guilty. 

You scoffed, "Go back to your master! We don't want you here." 

The shadow wisped upwards, disappearing through the ceiling. A realization had you clenching your fists. Suri pouted. "Issy, you scared the doggy away!" 

"That was not a dog—" you cut yourself off with a sigh. "Suri, go brush your teeth and your hair while I get breakfast ready, okay?" 

"No," Suri grumbled, her tiny nose twitching. "Not unless you get doggy back!" 

"If you do as I say, I'll make you strawberry pancakes for breakfast." 

"Strawb'rry pancakies!" Suri squealed, the shadow momentarily forgotten. Satisfied with your deal, your sister rushed off to get ready. You left her to it, stalking outside through the backdoor. You walked a few paces away from the cabin, staring up at the roof, using a hand to block the rising sun from your eyes.

"I know you're up there!" you shouted. "Don't bother trying to hide!" 

Footsteps were heard and then there was Azriel, peering down at you from his perch on your roof. His annoyingly beautiful face was near unreadable, his hair in a bit of disarray like he'd ran his hand through it one too many times. Dark circles were underneath his hazel eyes and those familiar shadows were whirling around him.

"Why are you on my roof?" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Good morning, Y/n," Azriel said, his voice low and husky from disuse through the night. "I've been keeping watch. I wanted to make sure none of those males would bother you again." 

"I already told you I don't need or want your help, Shadowsinger! Now get the fuck off my roof," you snarled at him. You didn't want him here. You didn't want his stupid shadows near you or Suri either. Besides, since when did he care what happened to you or any other Illyrian females? He had turned his back on his own people the day he ran off to the High Lord's perfect little city, pretending like he wasn't one of you, wasn't Illyrian. 

Easy for him. He was a male that could get siphons to use his powers correctly, a male who hadn't been forced down and clipped. He could fly wherever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. He had money and resources you wouldn't even bother dreaming for. Azriel could wipe his hands clean and pretend like he hadn't been born in these mountains and hadn't left anyone behind to suffer when he left. 

It was one thing to escape this brutalizing, barbaric way of living. It was another to gain power and influence within the court and not bother to help your own people. Azriel was a traitor and he could go to hell for all you cared. 

You hated him for it. Hated him and all of his friends. Hated the High Lord and Lady who did little to help anyone here. Hated the General for leading your father to his death in the war. You hated them all.  

Azriel let out a quiet sigh. "I know you don't need my help, but I... I can't just leave knowing those males might come back and hurt you again. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it."

"I don't care about your stupid promises," you bit back. "Get off my roof and go home, Azriel. You're not wanted here." 

"I know you hate me and I know we've all let you down," Azriel replied, guilt shimmering in his eyes. "I'm going to do everything I can to make it up to you, Y/n. I promise." 

"Again with the promises! Your words mean nothing to me," you grumbled, tossing your hands in the air. "I don't have time for this. You know what? You want to spend all of eternity sitting on my roof, you go ahead! But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off!"

You didn't bother waiting for his response, storming back into your house and slamming the door shut behind you. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

A week went by and Azriel kept watch over you the entire time. Every day you would walk outside and peer up at the roof to see him perched there, oftentimes twirling his dagger in his hand lazily. He'd give you a small smile that looked more like a grimace and you'd roll your eyes and go back inside. 

You hated that some part of you did feel better knowing he was there. You knew his reputation and you knew none of the males in this camp would bother you as long as he was there. But it still infuriated you to see his face every morning. To see him shake the snow off his wings. To see him glare down at everyone in your camp like you were all beneath him. 

You especially hated how much Suri had come to love his shadows, always chasing them down the hallways of the cabin. You just wanted him gone. 

And it seemed like you got your wish two weeks later.

It was nighttime, the house quiet now that you'd coaxed Suri into going to bed. You were getting ready for bed yourself, dressed in a nightgown and putting out the fire when a series of soft knocks caught your attention. You frowned, pausing to look at the door. Who would be coming by at this time? Certainly no one good. 

You were debating on ignoring it when a dark shadow whisked its way underneath the door. 

"Y/n," Azriel called out. "It's just me." 

You rolled your eyes and opened your door, knowing he wouldn't leave until you did so.

"What?" You eyed him, taking in his disheveled appearance. You wondered how he survived spending the night in the snow. Just the small draft that came in from opening the door had you shivering. You hugged yourself, your hair blowing gently in the ice cold breeze.

Azriel seemed at a loss for words for a second, his eyes roaming down your body before he met your gaze. His cheeks turned a bit pink as you raised an eyebrow at him. He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion.

"I need to leave for a few days," Azriel finally said. "The High Lord is sending me on a small mission. I...I would feel a lot better if you'd let me take you and your sister somewhere else while I'm gone. I can set the two of you up in a nice inn or tavern in Velaris. Or you could stay at my personal residence. Just for a few days." 

You stared at him utterly perplexed. "You're...you're joking, right?" 

He shook his head looking dead serious. "No, Y/n, I'm not. I worry what will happen if I'm not here to watch over you. Please, just...just let me help. It might be nice for Suri to take her to Velaris and let her see the city." 

"You're out of your mind," you hissed. "I'm not leaving my house and certainly not with you. I already told you I don't need your help."

You went to shut the door but Azriel reached out and grabbed it before you could.

"Please, I just want to help—"

“Azriel, I have survived here on my own for the past two years since my father died in the war,” you growled. “You can't sit on my roof forever. If you truly wanted to fix things, you would've done so centuries ago. So just leave, Azriel. And don't bother coming back." 

“I do care,” Azriel pleaded. “Please—”

"I am not leaving," you snapped. "I am not letting those stupid males run me from my own home. I don't know why you even care! And stop with the whole 'I promised you' thing. You don’t even know me!”

He opened his mouth to say something else but you slammed the door shut in his face. You locked the deadbolt before letting out a sigh. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Azriel was worried. Worried and scared and angry. Worried that Silas and his goons would bother his mate while he was gone. Scared that they’d hurt her. And angry at just the thought of that. His chest ached as he thought about his mate and her clear hatred towards him. He couldn’t blame her for it. She was right. He had abandoned Illyria a long time ago. 

But that needed to change. He needed that to change. Not just for his mate’s sake but for her sister, for Nyx, for all the females and children whose lives were awful because of the males in charge of all their camps. 

She had been the wake up call he needed. He had the privilege of being a male in Illyria. He got to keep his wings. Got to work at having a different life then the one he was born into. His mate hadn’t had those opportunities. She was flightless, stuck to the ground and stuck in her miserable camp. 

Azriel wanted nothing more than to just grab her and her sister and get them far away from Illyria. To bring them to his apartment in Velaris where he could take care of them, could keep them safe. 

But his mate didn’t trust him. 

He would do anything to prove himself to her. Prove that he did care for her and all the other Illyrian females. No matter how much hate he was met with, he’d keep crawling back until he earned her forgiveness and a chance to give her a better life. 

She deserved that more than anything. Not just because she was his mate but because she had been so strong all these years, standing up to males twice her size and keeping her sister’s wings from being mutilated like hers had been. She didn’t choose to be Illyrian anymore than he did. 

And Gods, he wanted her to stop hating him. He wanted her to give him a chance. Just one chance to show her what she truly deserved. He had learned so much about her by just watching her this week and he knew that no other female would come close to capturing his heart and attention the way she had in just that short span of time he’d known her. 

Azriel knew he didn’t deserve her or her forgiveness. He knew she was too good for him. Too beautiful, too pure of heart. He could see that just by the way she took care of her sister and the other females in her village, despite the torment it brought her from the males. 

He let out a sigh, his eyes still locked on the camp of Autumn Soldiers. He was doing a reconnaissance mission. Beron was up to something again and these soldiers had been spotted on the coast. 

It had been two days since he left his mate and so far, nothing had been unknowingly sent down the bond except for her normal moods she fluctuated with during the day. 

He just needed to finish this mission and rush back to Velaris to drop off his report to Rhysand before he could get back to her. He normally liked to take his time on his missions but this was quite possibly the first time he ever had a want to get back faster. He was hoping to sneak into the River House and set his report on Rhys's desk without seeing anyone. He'd been ignoring and skipping family dinners for the past week and knew they'd have a lot to say about it. 

Azriel faltered as a wave of fear crashed through him. No, not fear. Terror. Unbridled terror and then pain. He sucked in a breath, nearly falling from the tree he was perched in. He was frozen for a second before he realized what was happening---his mate was in danger. 

It took him less than a second to decide to abandon the mission and shadow all the way back to the Illyrian mountains. Azriel let out a curse when he stepped out of the shadows in front of his mate's cabin to see it covered in flames. Someone had set it on fire and it was quickly crumbling under the flames. His heart was beating in his chest as he strained his ears to make sure no one was inside.

But then the most heart-stopping, chill inducing sound was heard ringing through the camp.

His mate's screams.

He sprinted towards the sound, his boots pounding against the cold hard ground. It led him to the town center where a crowd had formed, males hollering and shouting encouragement at whatever was happening. 

Azriel pushed his way through the crowd, shoving aside male after male until he reached the front. His heart dropped in his stomach as he beheld what was happening before him. 

His mate on her knees, holding up the tatters of her shirt to maintain her dignity. Silas standing behind with a whip in hand, raising it in the air again. Blood all over the white snow around his mate, staining it red. Tear streaks running down his mate's face, her beautiful face pale and twisted in pain. One of Silas's commanders holding a crying and screaming Suri, her tiny fists pounding on his chest. 

Azriel wished he knew what happened next. Wished he had this memory to look back on whenever he remembered the rage he felt. But one second he was standing there staring at his mate in horror and the next second, he was surrounded by dead bodies with Truth-teller in his hand dripping with blood. The camp had fallen silent and his ears were ringing, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. 

Suri had been dropped in the chaos and had rushed towards her sister, throwing her small arms around her neck as she sobbed.

And his mate.

His beautiful mate was staring right at him, eyes wide from witnessing the carnage he had just unleashed in this camp. Silas laid dead behind her, his shadows still ravaging his body. Slit throats, broken necks on all the other males that laid dead at his feet. But his mate was looking at him.

Azriel took a step towards her, watching her carefully as she weakly wrapped an arm around her sister's body while her eyes never left his. And he knew the mating bond had just snapped for her, could see the realization in her eyes. 

"N-no," she stammered out, her voice cracking. "No. Not you. Not...Not you! Anyone but you!"

Azriel could feel her dread pouring down the bond amidst the pain and terror she felt. He felt his heart crack in his chest, heard his shadows wailing as they too felt her pain and sorrow. 

But his broken heart at finding his mate and hearing that she didn't want him was not important in this moment. Not as his mate's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped to the ground.

Azriel rushed forward, scooping both his unconscious mate in his arms and her crying sister before disappearing in a whirl of screaming shadows. 

[samzzarella]

Can you write a fanfic about Se-Mi where reader is cheating on her bf for Se-Mi— or maybe reader has unsupportive parents so she has to hire a fake bf just so she can have a relaxing with Se-Mi???

(no rush in writing, take your time!!)

I hope you like it!!

THINK THAT I’M GONNA STEAL YOU FROM HIM, I COULD BE SUCH A GENTLEMAN

~ pairing: se-mi/player 380 x reader

~ BIKER SE-MI!!, cute stuff, CW: cheating (kinda)

You mourned the loss of your Friday night that you had planned to spend with a hot cup of tea and a cheesy rom-com, and had instead been dragged to a party by your ‘boyfriend’. The blaring music was giving you a headache, and you just felt tired. What were you doing here? You didn’t even like this guy. But he fit the description of someone your parents would approve of, even if it was just from the outside. A ‘Mr. Nice guy’ so you wouldn’t have to deal with any more pestering. And so you had spent the evening tailing behind him, uncomfortable under his arm as he talked to all of his ‘corporate bros’. Pretty soon, you had had enough. “I’m going to the bathroom”, you huffed, tugging at your tight dress. He barely looked at you as he nodded. You could barely conceal your eye-roll as you walked away.

When you came back out to find your boyfriend, he wasn’t where you’d left him. You didn’t know anyone here, feeling nervous as you searched for him. You spotted him next to the bar, and were about to approach him when you noticed the girl next to him. She had his hand on his chest as they flirted with each other. That piece of shit. He had come here with you and had the audacity to flirt with someone else the second you weren’t there. You were upset, but there was no point in causing a scene. After all, you didn’t really care about him.

I should just leave, you thought. You turned around, heading towards the door when you saw her. A gorgeous girl, tall and lanky, stood in a corner, chatting with some guy. She was wearing a baggy button-up shirt, a tie hung loose around her neck. Wide black jeans hung low on her hips, the waistband of her boxers peeking out. One of her hands clutched a beer bottle, showing off the rings on her slender fingers, the other one fiddling with the ring at her lip. The sight of her knocked the breath out of you. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from her, and she seemed to notice because her gaze met yours. She grinned at you, saying something to the boy before heading in your direction.

“Hey there”, she said, her voice perfectly husky, “I’m Se-mi, and you are…?”. You blurted your name out, barely being able to conceal your nerves. She chuckled, the sound whiskey-smooth. Soon, you were able to ease into the conversation as you talked about this and that. Se-mi was captivating, charming, and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be with someone like her. Attentive, sweet, unlike the boys you’d dated in the past.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the song streaming through the speakers. “You wanna dance?”, you asked, a cheeky smile on your face. Se-mi raised her eyebrows, “Sure”. You both joined the cluster of people that were already dancing at the centre of the room. You liked the song, and it was easy to sway to the music, arms above your head. Se-mi was a little more awkward, her movements more stiff than yours, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. You moved closer to her, mischief in your eyes as you smirked up at her.

Her demeanour completely changed as she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You looped your arms around her neck as you swayed to the music, body flush against hers. She matched your rhythm, looking down at you in a way that made your knees weak. When she was close like this, you could smell her cologne, and god she smelled so good. Suddenly feeling shy, you pulled your gaze down, away from hers. “What a sweet thing you are”, she preened as her hand left your hip, a finger tipping your chin up, “Don’t be so shy”. You sucked in a breath as her face inched closer. Softly, she pressed her lips against yours. You could feel her fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, heat sparking up your spine as she kissed you hungrily. Your knees nearly buckled as she slid her tongue into your mouth, the cool metal of her tongue piercing against your warm flesh. She was nearly panting as she asked, “How about we get out of here, huh?”. You nodded as she gave you a wolfish grin.

As you approached the door to leave, you realized, “Wait… I need to tell you something”. She turned back at you, eyebrows raised. “What? Is everything ok?”, she seemed worried as she asked.

“Um, no, it’s just… I didn’t come alone tonight. I…uh… I was here with my boyfriend. But it’s a bit complicated. I don’t actually like him that much and he’s…-“

“Hey, hey relax. I know already. I saw you walk in with him… and I also saw him flirting with another girl… so I assumed he was a douche”, she shrugged,” Don’t worry”, she leaned down, her lips brushing your earlobe, “I can do much better than him”.

You felt the blood rushing to your face as she chuckled. She gave you a sweet smile as she said, “But I understand if you don’t want to rush into anything. We can just…get to know each other tonight. What’d you say?”

You grinned, “That’ll be great”.

“Let’s go then”, She intertwined her fingers with yours, pulling you out the door. She led you to where her motorcycle was parked. She was a biker?? Fuck, that’s so hot, you thought “Will you be comfortable on this?”, she said as she handed you a helmet. “Yeah, I’ll be fine”, you pulled down the hem of your dress as you got on behind her.

“Hold on tight, ok? Oh and, what do you think about getting ice cream?”

“I’d love that”

Your hands were firm around her waist as you took off into the night. You closed your eyes as the world rushed past you.

°°••....••°°

You both ate the ice cream Se-mi had bought as you strolled beside a nearby lake that was glimmering like a gem under the moonlight. You talked and you made her laugh and the night felt enchanting, a new excitement simmering underneath your veins. You were hopeful, and this felt like the start of something special.

“I don’t even know what you saw in him”, Se-mi laughed incredulously. You sucked your teeth, “Honestly… it was just a ‘if I get a boyfriend will you leave me alone, mom’ kinda situation. But I’m totally gonna dump him. I don’t think I actually care what anybody has to say about my life anymore”.

“Well, I’m happy for you”

You both had stopped walking, now facing each other. “Thanks”, your voice had become impossibly soft as your gaze pulled down to her lips. You cupped her cheek, thumb caressing her skin softly. You kissed her then, and it was wildly different from the kiss at the party. This one was tender, and you could taste the chocolate on her lips. Her arm was around your waist, holding you close, as both your hands were now holding her face. You parted, eyes fluttering open and the moment was pure magic.

°°••....••°°

After that perfect night, Se-mi took you home, saved your number and kissed you good night. As she was leaving, she chewed on her lower lip as she said, “Can’t wait for our next date, sweetheart”.

Btw, I’m a slut for Biker Se-mi, and I will definitely be writing more of her!