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keeryhours · 2 days ago

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Customer: @mrsjellymunson

Order: Chocolate lava cake for two with chocolate fudge and crushed oreos

Ingredients: Smut (18+), rockstar au, one bed trope (more like no beds one van trope), protected and unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving and a second of m receiving), fingering, creampie

Total: $35.20 (3.5k words oops)

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The vibe in the van was one of pure exhaustion as it rumbled up to the shitty Colorado motel. You had just played a show hours before, and everyone was sweaty and gross and ready to pass out after a good shower.

This was Corroded Coffin’s first tour, mostly financed by the band themselves. The shows were great, the crowd was energetic and excited to be there every night. But the run down motels and long hours in the van were getting tiresome.

“Okay,” Eddie said. “Everyone’s got their own room. So we can all get a shower and pass the fuck out.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gareth said, yawning as he opened his car door.

Everyone climbed out, stretching sore muscles. Eddie walked into the lobby, leaving everyone else at the van. He approached the receptionist, a teenage boy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. He looked up as Eddie approached, his expression bored.

“Hey,” Eddie greeted. “Uh, we have 5 reservations? Should be under Munson.”

The guy typed on the massive computer. “Edward?”

“Uh…yeah,” Eddie said.

“It looks like you only have two rooms booked.”

Eddie blinked. “I booked five rooms.”

“Well, here, it says you have two.”

Eddie’s head dropped in exasperation. “Well can I get three more rooms?”

The boy gave him a fake pitying look. “Sorry, we’re all booked up.”

Eddie clenched his fists. “Awesome.”

“Do you still want the two rooms?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, pulling out his wallet. He paid the guy in cash for the rooms. He handed him two keys. “Enjoy your stay, sir.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he turned around. He met back up with the rest of you at the van, where everyone was dead on their feet, ready to get into their rooms.

“So, bad news,” Eddie said as he walked up, swinging the keys around his fingers.

“What?” Grant asked, already dreading whatever their frontman was about to say.

“We’ve only got two rooms.”

“What?” you said. “You were supposed to book five.”

“I did,” Eddie said, “but apparently something got messed up. We have two rooms and they’re all booked otherwise.”

You and the guys all looked at each other. “So…” Jeff said, “…who gets the rooms?”

“I’ll sleep in the van,” Eddie offered. “Just let me get a shower first in one of the rooms.”

“By yourself?” you asked. “I’ll sleep out here with you.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not gonna be very comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I’ll bunk with you.”

“Works for me,” Gareth said. “I call my own room. Jeff and Grant can share.”

While the three guys argued over who got the room to themselves, you and Eddie snuck into the hotel rooms to take the first showers. It felt like heaven after a long day of performing and feeling so gross. The hot water washed away not only the sweat and dirt but also the stress of the day, the anxiety of tomorrow’s performance.

When you were done, you dried yourself off, dressing in your pajamas - shorts and a t-shirt. You brushed your teeth and walked out of the bathroom, seeing Grant on the bed.

“I won,” he smiles.

“Congratulations,” you laughed. You left Grant alone to take his own shower and headed back out to the van - your accommodation for the night. You found Eddie already in the vehicle, having laid the back seats down and made a large space for you two to sleep.

He was dressed in nothing but some low hanging sweatpants, leaning back against the seat with his lyric notebook. You climbed in next to him. “Whatcha working on?”

Eddie glanced up at you. “Ah, just some songs I’ve been messing around with. Nothing concrete yet.”

“Can I see?”

Eddie paused. “Yeah, I guess.”

You took the notebook from his hands and began flipping the pages, reading the notes and lyrics and chords he’d written down. There was one thing that stood out to you about these lyrics - they were all love songs. Corroded Coffin didn’t do love songs. None of you had much experience to write about, after all. But these lyrics were all longing, yearning, pining. Desire.

It wasn’t what you expected from Eddie. Eddie wasn’t soft, he was rowdy, wild, the life of the party. He wasn’t tender, like these lyrics. These lyrics were beautiful, they were poetry. But they were also dark, longing without the belief you can ever have what you truly want.

“Eddie…” you said, lowering the notebook. “These are…”

“They’re stupid,” he said quickly, taking the notebook back from your hands. He shoved it under the seat. “They’re not done or anything. Just some stuff I was messing around with.”

“Eddie, they’re beautiful,” you said. “I didn’t know you wrote songs like that.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I don’t.”

He seemed like he was being a little hostile, so you backed off. You reached into your bag and pulled out your body lotion, pumping some into your hands and then rubbing it into your legs, part of your usual post shower routine.

Eddie watched. His eyes were glued to your long, smooth legs, the way your hands caressed them, and he thought about those being his hands. How badly he’d love to rub your body like that, feeling every inch of your skin beneath his palms, calloused from years of guitar playing.

He made himself look away.

Once you were done, Eddie closed up the van, settling down into the makeshift bed in the back. You laid down next to him, with a respectable distance between you. You stared up, looking at the sky through the windows, the stars twinkling in the clear night sky. It was almost romantic.

You figured Eddie had fallen asleep next to you, but he shifted, and when you looked his big brown eyes were looking right at you. Your heart stuttered in your chest - maybe he startled you, what other reason would there be? But he was looking at you so intensely, it made it hard to breathe.

“Eddie?” you said his name like a question.

He just looked at you. “I…”

The starlight shining on your face through the van windows made you look ethereal. Eddie had loved you since the moment he met you, he thought you were the most beautiful person on the planet, but he had never seen you looking so soft, so otherworldly.

“Every love song is about you,” he whispered.

You froze. “What?” you whispered back.

“Those songs I wrote,” he said softly. “They’re all about you.”

Your brain couldn’t process this. Eddie? Into you? In love with you? Those songs hadn’t been light. They had been pure need. You had been best friends with Eddie for forever and never had you gotten the vibe that he was interested in you.

Eddie took your lack of response as a rejection. He looked up at the ceiling of the van, his heart sinking in his chest. He felt like an idiot. He had kept this inside for so long, and here he went and ruined everything, and while you’re on tour together, too. How could he be so stupid-

“I love you too, Eddie.”

His heart stuttered. He wasn’t sure he heard you right. “You-?”

“I feel the same way,” you whispered. “I have for a long time.”

Eddie turned on his side. He placed his hand on your cheek, thumb gently caressing the skin. It was silent for a few minutes. Just the two of you looking into each other’s eyes, finding so much said without words.

“I don’t think you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” Eddie said gently.

Your lips parted. You weren’t sure what to say. You’d never had someone say something like that to you before. Your heart was thudding hard in your chest, your stomach buzzing with nerves.

“Whenever I watch you on stage,” he continued, “I can’t look anywhere else. I’m supposed to be working the crowd, but I’m watching you. You’re always…you’re everything.”

You were misty eyed, at a loss for words. You had to have been dreaming, because what was this? A literal dream come true?

“Eddie…” you said, your voice still slightly hoarse from the show. “I…are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his voice an octave lower. Then, as if to prove how serious he was, he moved in slowly and kissed you.

You had thought many times about what Eddie’s lips might feel like. You had certainly fantasized about his mouth in multiple places, his long, skilled tongue-

Eddie’s lips moved against yours in a slow kiss. His hand brushed through your hair slowly. Yours rested on his bare chest, feeling the skin beneath your palm moving with his heavy breaths. He let out the quietest moan as he kissed you, a barely there breath of a moan, all his longing put into that kiss.

He nibbled on your bottom lip just slightly, testing the waters. You opened up for him, and the feeling of his tongue just slightly touching yours brought you heavily to the present. This was really happening. You met him eagerly, tongues slowly pressing together, exploring intimately.

You let out an involuntary moan, his kisses bringing your body to life. Your nipples hardened in your thin t-shirt, wetness collecting on your panties. You wanted to know what else he could do, maybe with those long dexterous fingers -

As if he read your mind begging for more, his fingers crept under your shirt, slowly enough that you could easily stop him if you wanted to. You absolutely didn’t. His hand slid up your side, sending goosebumps across your skin. You shuddered, squeezing your thighs together. Eddie didn’t miss it, and you felt his smile against your lips.

“Naughty,” he mumbled. You wanted to tell him to shut up like you usually would, but you found you didn’t want him to. You wanted his mouth to keep doing all kinds of things.

His hand crept up slowly until it reached your breasts. He cupped one of them gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple. You gasped, and Eddie nipped playfully at your bottom lip again.

“You have the perfect tits,” Eddie said. “I’ve known that for a long time, but now I know for sure.”

He pushed your shirt up, exposing your tits. He separated from your lips and sat up, pulling you onto his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist. He dipped his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple. You drew in a shaking breath, your hands grasping onto his back.

He moaned as he sucked on your nipple, running his tongue over it, suckling at it like it’s the best thing he’d ever had. His hand played with your other breast, massaging it and pinching at your sensitive bud.

Eddie was in heaven. Your tits in his face, in his mouth. He had dreamed of this alone in his hotel room with his cock in his hand more times than he could count. His fingers dug into your soft hips, and you experimentally rolled your hips down against his. It drew a moan from deep in his chest, and you could feel him hardening against your core through both of your clothes.

“God, you’re fuckin’ unreal,” Eddie groaned against your lips. “I can’t believe you’re in my fuckin’ lap.” He went right back to your tits, enveloping the other with his mouth this time.

“Yeah?” you said. “Well I can’t believe I’m making out with the Eddie Munson.”

He pulled off your tits with a wet pop. “The Eddie Munson is about to be doing a lot more than making out with you.” He grinned at you sheepishly. “If you’ll let him.”

You answered him with another kiss, tongues tangling together. He guided your hips down against him, back and forth, rolling low against his rapidly hardening cock. Every drag of his hard length against your dripping core was making your clit throb, your pussy clenching around nothing as you imagined having him deep inside you.

He pulled your shirt off before he flipped you over, laying you softly down on the blankets. You couldn’t help your eyes drifting down, noticing his massive dick pressing against his grey sweatpants. It made you a little nervous. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t the most experienced, either.

Eddie squeezed his cock over his pants, you could see the print of his dick through the material. His thick mushroom tip was obvious, cock bobbing in his pants as he moved. He kissed down your body until he reached your tiny little shorts, sliding them down along with your panties at an agonizing pace.

Once they were off he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove in. His tongue traced along your glistening folds, tasting you - finally. He moaned against you, sending vibrations through your clit. “Tastes so sweet, baby.”

You whimpered, tangling your fingers in his curly hair. “Oh, Eddie.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” he cooed, tongue flicking over your clit. A loud gasp escaped your chest as he pressed a long finger into you, pumping it slowly.

“It’s- ohmygod-“

Eddie chuckled, never stopping his movements. He sucked on your clit hard before going back to lapping up your wetness with his tongue. He was eating you like a starved man, like he was loving every second of it. He pressed another finger into your hole, stretching you further.

“Gotta get you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. “Think you can take another?”

You whined. “Yeah.”

“My good girl.” He pressed a third into you, the stretch uncomfortable at first. But he was pumping them so slowly, curling them deeply inside of you to press against something that had you breathing harder, squeezing your eyes shut, tiny moans coming from your lips over and over.

“Eddie, that feels so good,” you whined. “So so good. Please…”

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart,” he said, reading your mind. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you cum on my tongue.”

You were close. You’d never had a guy make you cum before, only your own toys had brought you there. The guys you’d slept with had no interest in your pleasure. Eddie was different.

“Eddie…Eddie…” you cried out, body writhing in pleasure. “G’na cum…”

“I can feel it, baby. Can feel you tightening around my fingers, squeezin’ me, pullin’ me deeper. She’s greedy, isn’t she?”

He wrapped those lips around your clit again and sucked, fingers pressing right against that spot, and oh god oh god oh god-

“Eddie! Oh, fuck, Eddie!” you cried out, grinding your pussy against his face, taking everything he’d give you as you had the biggest orgasm of your life. Eddie went even harder, devouring you with his sinful tongue. He moaned against you as he drank you in, tasting every bit of your slick, rutting his hips against the blankets.

He kept going until you couldn’t take it anymore, whimpering as you pushed him away. He looked up at you from between your legs with your wetness coating his lips and chin. He grinned.

“Gotta have you,” he growled. He shoved his sweatpants down, cock bobbing against his stomach. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, even bigger than it looked covered by his pants.

He reached into the front seats, opening the glove compartment and pulling out a condom. Of course, they were always readily available on the road. You were grateful for it now.

He bit the package open. His tip was flushed red, the tiniest bead of precum at his slit. In an impulsive moment, you sat up and licked it off.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, surprised. “Fuck, baby. If I didn’t want to fuck you so bad right now, I’d tell you to do it again.”

You giggled - but you were admittedly intimidated by the thought of taking all that down your throat. Another day.

You watched as Eddie rolled the condom onto his dick, clenching your thighs together. You felt the excitement building between your legs all over again, as if you hadn’t just cum all over his face.

Eddie positioned himself between your legs. He lifted your thighs, spreading them wide, gazing down at the view. “Christ,” he muttered. “Look at you.”

You blushed, but Eddie didn’t notice. His attention was elsewhere. He tapped his cock against your pussy, rubbing it between your folds, just feeling it all over his shaft, coating the condom with your slick. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life.

He lined himself up with your entrance. He was thick, and that was the first moment you actually felt a little scared.

Eddie sensed the change in you as if you’d said it out loud. “I’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing you softly on the lips. “If you don’t like it, just let me know, yeah?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He kissed your cheek, then your lips again. He kissed you gently as he slowly pushed into you, and you keened, feeling him stretch you the way only he could.

“Oh, god, baby,” Eddie bit off a choked groan as he felt you envelop him, every inch he pressed into you lighting up every nerve ending in his body. He shook with his attempt to keep himself under control, to not pound into you like a fucking animal the way he wanted to.

He bottomed out inside of you, and you finally felt like you could breathe. You let out a shaky exhale, your nails digging into his back like you were holding on for dear life. “S’big.”

Eddie chuckled breathlessly. “I know, baby. You’re taking it so well. I’m so proud of you.”

He pulled out a little before rolling his hips back into you, watching your face to make sure you were alright. He pulled out a little more with every thrust, each one getting deeper and deeper. You could feel him in your fucking stomach it felt like.

Once he felt like he could set a steady pace, he was thrusting his hips into you in a firm rhythm, the van rocking with your movements. You moaned and dragged your nails down Eddie’s back, making him hiss. “Damn, baby. You gonna mark me all up?”

“Maybe,” you breathed. “Can I?”

“Do whatever you want to me,” he said, low. “But I get to mark you, too.”

He buried his face in your neck as he sped up his hips, biting and sucking at your neck like he was determined to let everyone in the world know he’d fucked you. He thought about you on stage with your neck bruised and marked, all the fans seeing, wondering who gave them to you, jealous.

“You’re mine,” Eddie growled into your neck. “Mine. All fucking mine.”

“All yours,” you agreed, your brain hazy as he fucked you stupid. “Yours, yours, yours.”

Eddie threw his head back, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. He was holding back, not wanting to cum too fast. “Your pussy is too fuckin’ good. Gonna make me bust too quick.”

“You can,” you said. “I wanna make you cum.”

“Wanna cum in you,” he grunted. “God, I wish I could fill you.”

“Can you?” you said quickly.

Eddie paused. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, repeating his words from earlier. “I’m on birth control.”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Eddie pulled out of you, quickly pulling the condom off and tossing it. He slapped his cock against your pussy one more time and then he buried himself back into you in a single thrust. You cried out, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He was fucking you like a madman now, hips pounding into you relentlessly. The slapping of your skin was so loud it made you blush. You held onto Eddie, your lifeline, your constant.

“Gonna cum deep,” he grunted. “It’s gonna be dripping out of your little pussy for days. You’ll be on stage, feeling me, remembering all I did to you.”

You whimpered - it was all you could do. Eddie thrusted into you at a punishing pace a few more times, then he stilled, grounding out a deep moan as his cock twitched inside of you, rope after rope of his spend coating the inside of your pussy, filling you just like he promised.

It took him a while to come down. You were both shaking, clutching onto each other. Eddie was peppering your skin in kisses all over, whispering, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you mumbled back sleepily. Eddie pulled out, and you felt his release dripping out of you. He smirked, wiping it with his finger and pushing it back inside.

He collapsed on the floor next to you, pulling you into his body and wrapping you up in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing back to normal. He rubbed your bare back soothingly.

And you were happy.

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douqhnxtss · 1 day ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ REDAMANCY ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

𝓡𝑬𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑪𝒀 (𝘯.) — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.

𝓝𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓨𝑰𝒁𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝓨𝑶𝑼 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼̧𝖺𝖽𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗎𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐— 𝘺𝘰𝘶�� 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

✧ fluff, angst, uni & ceo au, objectification (by parents), reader has terrible parents, cold!reader, arguments, reader has self doubt & fears disappointing her parents, kissing, ft. aespa, big time skips, arranged relationship/engagement (not ningy/n), running away, reader discovering herself, jimin × minjeong, sleeping in the same bed, kisses, rich!reader, reader is lwk mean if u think about it (at the start), thriller & mystery solving undertones, complex!reader (if that makes sense), yizhou becomes a detective, proofread — transfer student!yizhou × hot nerd!reader ⋆ wc! 8.07k 𐙚𐙚 OH MY GOD. i love this sm, soz it took me 22 days to write this, like very imagine I write they keep getting longer and longer, my lord. pls enjoy this dish kira has served that she gave her heart and soul into making, likes and reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated (pls interact i cried one too many times writing this T_T) i might expand on this fic like provide moodboards, a playlist, more drabbles that branch from this fic as extra content idk lmk what I should do!!

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YOUR MIND WAS DEVOID OF THE JOY. devoid of the joy anyone would expect experiencing upon getting a perfect score on their exam, that too of physics out of all subjects.

to you, the score was just a mark of reassurance that you weren't a failure in the eyes of your parents, nothing more. you gave everyone a blank smile who congratulated you, clearly impressed.

you looked up when you heard someone clear their throat in an attempt to grasp your attention to see a somewhat unfamiliar face. you didn't know her and you couldn't place a name to her face.

she stared for a second too long, you couldn't decipher why. before you could overthink all possibilities, her smooth and calm voice introduced, "hey, i'm ning yizhou! i'm a new transfer student from china"

you nodded, not knowing what to say afterwards. she pulled a nearby seat and positioned it at the opposite end of the desk, across from you. she sat down, now at eye-level with you.

"you seem to be thriving in physics and me.. well— i'm not the best at it to put it simply." you slowly nodded again, the chance that you may have been mute struck the transfer student but she continued, "can you do me a favor, please?"

you shrugged your shoulders, "i don't tutor." her mouth fell agape, two things she was speculating both having been rejected in a short three-worded sentence. you weren't mute and you weren't a tutor either.

she went through five stages of denial, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to be tutored by the campus crush scholar everyone couldn't stop talking about. no one ever saw you talk to anyone first, when you did talk in response to someone it was always short answers and nods.

you were quiet, reserved and always calm. people loved testing you for that fact. they tried every single way to get on your nerves but not once did you raise your voice or let your reserved persona flicker to reveal who they actually thought you could be.

yizhou was one of the people who admired from afar, wondering who you were actually like when you weren't so damn cold. today, seeing her 17.5%— she knew she needed to get some help.

no one actually loved physics, most who scored between average to a little below high just studied and got it over with. they all despised the subject with a burning passion. someone who didn't despise physics, rather loved it; was of course, you.

you were one of the best at physics in town, you loved every concept, every theory, everything that summed up the contents of physics. you were more than 90% of the time the best in the state, which is why your reputation was so important.

your parents couldn't afford to have a daughter who peaked and then fell down, refusing to get up. you got scoldings for being second in the state level, you weren't just some ordinary nerd. you were always referred to as a science prodigy since you were little.

best at science when you were in middle school, best at physics in high school and currently still upholding your record at being the best at physics in university. there wasn't a day when you weren't talked about.

whether it be by the parents passing by or gossiping, the principal and teachers bragging to others, your parents flexing their perfect daughter or the others in the university who admired you.

you were practically an icon.

you didn't mind the attention, you didn't love it either. you just dealt with it and were neutral about the topic. you were known for declining almost every interaction prompted by anyone.

parties, coffee, studying, tutoring, hanging out— you never agreed. yizhou wasn't aware of that and as she sat there across from you, your furrowed brows, carefully analyzing what she must've been thinking. she knew she needed herself to become an exception to your no tutoring rule.

"please, look i'm okay with my other classes but i can't for the life of me, not struggle with physics!" she rushed out, quickly taking your hands, looking at you with the brightest, most alluring cat eyes you'd ever seen.

some students murmured, some gasped. another thing you weren't known for: physical contact. the day when you punched a boy so hard he broke his nose when he tried to pull you into an empty classroom by tugging your wrist— to confess his undying love initially, all of them knew you weren't one for physical affirmation. at all.

you should've just pulled your hands out of her hold, that's what you would've done with any other human. however, you didn't. your mind went blank, you didn't know what to do.

her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her hands that covered yours had an effect that couldn't be explained with physics, chemistry, biology, math or any other subject you could think of.

looking at her hopeless expression, you felt as if you were going to commit a sin by rejecting her polite request. you let out a sigh, not so sure why you were saying what you were, "alright, i.. i guess i'll tutor you."

her pretty brown eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face like a child who just got their favorite candy. she thanked you profusely, her hands leaving yours to clap a few times I'm excitement.

the warmth faded, leaving you looking at your colder hands. her fingers brushed past yours again when she took a pen and paper from your desk. she hurriedly scribbled something on the little sheet of paper before she handed it to you.

your gaze followed the notes content, it was her phone number and her name written below with a few sparkles and hearts drawn on. "text me whenever you have the time to discuss the schedule. bye, tutor y/n!"

she waved with her bright smile before skipping to her friend group. you read the note over and over again, a small smile curling up your lips. she seemed nice.

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"how do you love physics? it's the most boring shit ever!" yizhou dropped her head in her arms, exhausted from the never ending theories and concepts.

you lightly smiled, tapping the end of your pen on her head, "you know..." you drew out, but stopped before saying anything further. should she know about your feelings on physics?

she turned her head, looking up at you, raising her brows waiting for you to continue, "i know what?" she asked. you pondered for a few more seconds, shaking your head. her brows furrowed further.

"c'mon we're friends now, you can talk to me." she smiled, you couldn't see the smile, you knew she was by the way the skin near her eyes crinkled at the corners, chubby cheeks just visible enough to make you coo in your mind.

friend. you made a friend?

you didn't remember the last time when someone referred to you as their friend. you were a little dumbfounded, your little smile increasing at the corners at the thought before it fell again.

don't get too happy, y/n, she'll leave anyway.

she'll leave someday when she decides she deserves much better friends than an eye candy nerd who didn't know what their is to life outside of studying and presenting yourself elegantly.

for now, you chose to give her a response, "physics isn't my favorite subject," she audibly gasped, suddenly sitting up straight, this— this was tea.

her eyes were wide like she'd heard the most bizarre sentence to exist, "that's like a mathematician saying math isn't their favorite!" you only let out a little suppressed giggle at her shocked face.

"no doubt i do love physics," you said first and foremost, seeing her cringe at the statement. "but my favorite is not it." she nodded mindfully, understanding you perspective.

"so what is your favorite?" she slightly narrowed her eyes. you knew she didn't need to know anything more, "that's a conversation for another day." she gave you a little pout before she went back to the paper she was doing.

tutoring yizhou wasn't so bad. you'd rather not admit it, but you were starting to like the sessions. she cracked a few jokes here and there, sometimes spilled some hot tea about others which you never paid much mind to.

yizhou usually only spilled tea with her bestfriends, not with any student. but you weren't just some student for her, you were her friend. friends share tea, that's all, she thought.

she became even more nosy than she already was in her friend minjeong's opinion, why? she wouldn't answer. she noticed how you held eye contact when she ranted, albeit you didn't give any reactions other than nods and hums, she still liked it.

yizhou liked having your undivided attention. she chalked it up to her ego as you rarely gave anyone attention and you giving her just that made her ego jump. well her heart raced too, but you'll catch her dead actually acknowledging it at the moment.

"that's a gorgeous dress!" she exclaimed when she saw the little dress you drafted mindlessly. your eyes widened a fraction, your arm quickly covering the drawing, gulping your nerves down.

she wasn't supposed to see that. yizhou's brows furrowed when she saw your arm move to cover the dress. "it's nothing, focus on your test." you quickly ordered the chinese, your tone too precise, too calculated, as if you'd been in this situation before.

she didn't push it, opting to continue her work, though her mind was now occupied with many aswerless questions. what was wrong about doodling? maybe it was wrong for someone like you.

yizhou knew one thing was certain from the many more study sessions that followed after the dress drawing incident. you were secretive, and you were good at being secretive, also just as good at appearing perfect.

you were always the neat and perfect you. your image started to feel like it had been crafted carefully, like you'd spent years planning who to be seen as. you were strategic; every responce, answer and even laugh sounded as if it'd been planned out.

yizhou was starting to think you were a robot. she knew it wasn't true of course, but you intrigued her. you made her think so hard about you. aeri once said to her that she looked like she was stalking you.

she wasn't stalking you, why would she anyway? you just made her want to dig deeper, want to get under the bottom as to why you were so prepared for everything, like you knew every single way any conversation could flow, like you could read the minds of the people and immediately know what their intentions were.

something clicked in her brain when she was doing her homework in her room. you were mostly good at being flawless in every way— except that day.

the day when you drew the dress, that you hid as soon as she acknowledged it. that moment was a crack in your skillfully constructed persona. the dress was a small piece of who you actually were behind your picture perfect façade.

her pen stopped mid air, the realization sudden and gave her more questions and some answers to her previous ones. she saw your parents once, when they came to pick you up for whatever reason.

she saw the way your eyes darkened, turning more lifeless than they already seemed, almost like a void. your face remained stoic, hands clenched by your sides as your mum gestured for you to get in the car.

you were a puppet.

yeah, exactly! that's who you were. you were a million dollar puppet in the name of the kims' daughter. your mum and dad didn't look at you with anything, no love, no care, just blank.

you were controlled by your parents, one way or another. yizhou didn't like that. she knew she needed to help you, however, she didn't know how. she didn't know how she would break through your hard exterior to see the real you.

──────── ✧✦

slowly but surely, she tried to gather clues. she figured out that whenever your eyes would look around too much, almost as if they were searching for a card to play out of the many you'd prepared, it meant you were caught off guard.

she always payed attention, she tried her hardest to get more knowledge about you, yet with each passing day, the fire to keep searching dimmed.

she'd make a pretty good detective by the way she over-analyzed your every move. you'd make a good criminal by how nicely you portrayed yourself, knowing what to do in every situation while making sure no one caught on to your plan.

which in this setting, is you. what you are like under the puppet costume you were forced into wearing by your parents, according to yizhou's analysis and brainstorming.

she totally wasn't expecting that today she'd get a lot of answers to her previously unanswered questions. she sat on the table you two always studied at, in the far corner of the quiet library.

your attention diverted to the ring of your phone, it was your mum's call. you quickly took it, "i'll be back in a few." you spared her a glance before walking to the back exit of the library so you could talk without disturbing anyone.

yizhou nodded and went back to her work, she knew it would take a little time as it was your mum's call, she saw the caller id for a split second, she was getting observant.

the call was to inform you about a party they're hosting in honor of a new deal they just got and you needed to be there. you were taken aback, you were usually not to attend the parties.

your mum's sharp voice stated you needed to talk to the son of the opposite party they just made the deal with and hinted at a potential romantic arrangement between you two if things went according to plan, in her words.

you were infuriated to say the least; first she commanded you to attend a party, which she knew you hated, and second she was suggesting an arranged relationship. great.

the conversation ended on a terrible note, with your mum's loud orders and your quiet protests. what you said never mattered to her anyway, so now, you had a party to attend.

meanwhile, yizhou tied her hair up in a ponytail to prevent her hair from being a distraction because of the flowing wind. she yawned, tired from studying but she needed better grades, meaning she had no choice but to push through.

a few pages of your diary that you always kept near you flipped, an envelope and many pages slipping out, using the air as a medium to travel.

she shouldn't have snooped and violated your privacy, but with her recent tendencies of being overly nosy and her quest of unraveling your outer demeanor made her unconsciously reach out for the envelope and pages.

the pages— they confirmed her claim, they were a confirmation that you did indeed like drawing and fashion. she smirked knowingly seeing the countless suits, dresses, skirts, purses and pants.

the envelope— was something she didn't expect. her fingertips trailed over the edges of the envelope before she opened the flap. yizhou took out the stack of neatly arranged paper sheets covered in sketches.

sketches of her. kim y/n, the untouchable it-girl, drew sketches of her: ning yizhou, a sassy chinese transfer student.

was she dreaming?

her mouth was agape, confusion evident on her face and like with every interaction she had with you before, more questions arised that appeared to have no answer.

she saw an opportunity come to light in her mind, this could be her ticket to getting you to open up. she pretended to do her work whilst she waited for you.

you emerged from the door you went out from, eyes somehow darker than they already were, the formerly dark brown had been substituted by a gloomier, almost raven colour.

it was only when you sat down and looked forward did you see the opened envelope, numerous sketches and a yizhou who looked at you with a what is this? face like she was waiting for you to give an appropriate explanation.

"why did you snoop in my personal diary?" you didn't mean to sound so fed up, except the conversation you had prior with your mum played with your mind and the anger seeped out.

yizhou looked perplexed, "the pages and envelope flew out and i got curious." now that she thought about it, she had opened the envelope without consent.

"why are there so many sketches of me and clothing?" she got straight to point. the complexity of the situation really sunk in, there was no way to successfully cover up the fact that you loved fashion.

"that's none of your business, yizhou." you said her name for the first time. your tone was harsh, but the way her name flowed on your tongue? what was she thinking about?

you reached out to take the pages from yizhou who resisted, keeping them in a tight hold. "you can tell me. i promise i won't tell anyone!" she was not going to back down.

"this isn't something you should worry about. do your work." your voice was laced with authority and demand, which she'd normally obey though she had other plans right now.

"i want answers, y/n. don't change the topic." yizhou narrowed her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes. telling just one person won't be wrong, right?

you stayed still, contemplating every way this could play out like you did for every situation. yizhou noticed how your eyes moved around, she knew you were trying to make a decision in your mind.

she should really become a detective. was yizhou really trustworthy? you thought, you could make up an excuse right now but you'll have to come back at some point to tutor her.

you'd under no circumstances let your guard down and told anyone about your ambitions before. you were the perfect daughter of the kim's after all, your life had been planned out long before you were born. you had an path established by your parents to follow.

you let out a deep sigh, realistically speaking, what more could you do? you began from the start, from your dreams since you were little to become a fashion designer.

how your dreams were crushed over and over again, how you never had friends growing up as friends are distractions, how you had no choice but to comply to your parents' wishes.

her jaw was wide open, heart clenching as you told her how your hope and spark for having your own brand dulled, no longer having enough will power to fight back for what you love.

now, you just sketched in your free time and did what your parents wanted you to. you were just a pawn in their game of business, power and status.

yizhou was speechless, this was it. the truth she'd been hunting for the last month, her questions were answered and her heart, it was broken. she knew you weren't doing the best by your permanent gloomy eyes, yet she didn't expect it to be so upsetting.

now that she knew who you were, she wanted to help you. she wanted you to feel confident in your skills and believe in your passion. you shouldn't stop dreaming because they don't align with your parents' vision according to her.

"what if i help you?" she blurted out, only thinking about what she said when your brows furrowed, "help me in what?" you asked back. "you shouldn't give up your dreams!"

"what's gonna happen if i, let's say, actually do try reaching out to brands and showing them my designs?" you questioned, procrastination was your bestfriend and it showed.

"if they have functioning eyes, they will realize how your designs are amazing and offer you a deal, obviously!" she held up some of the pages, talking like she was stating facts.

you looked at her as if she was crazy, "there are so many ways i could be rejected and fail with this strategy." the word failure was hated upon in your dictionary as being first was always the goal for your parents.

"so? you will fall countless times and you should get up every time and learn from the fall and utilize the mistake so that you don't make it again. failing isn't bad, it's a necessary part of the journey of success."

her words stuck in your mind, they were the complete opposite of what you heard growing up. "you.. you sound too optimistic. the world isn't sunshine and rainbows; we don't live in a fantasy, this is reality where the concept of a happily ever after doesn't exist."

"your mentality needs a lot of fixing. i'm not too optimistic, you have the skill, your designs are unique and pretty. this isn't fantasy, yes i agree, but that doesn't mean you can't have a happily ever after, some don't have it but i believe you can!"

you didn't understand. why was she fighting you on this? what's her ulterior motive? there must be one, no one helps you without having a motive beneficial to them.

"you're talking nonsense. the world is dark, yizhou. your perception of the world needs a reset." your fury from earlier made your words colder and ruder, yizhou couldn't help but let a scoff slip out.

"you sound very full of yourself, y/n. i hope you do realize you're talking like how i expect your terrible parents to sound." her final sentence echoed in your brain and you stilled.

"infact, your perspective is extremely dark and dull. the world is dull but it's on you to find things to make your world colourful."

you didn't utter a word, processing the opinion. your mind went back to the rough retorts you'd spat to yizhou— recognizing the sole focus on the negativity of a topic, fixating on the cons and none of the pros, you were talking like your parents.

you never thought you'd ask such a bizarre, for you, question to anyone, yet here you were, in the library with a student you were supposed to tutor who you just told your whole life story to, asking her, "what do i do?"

yizhou's eyes lit up and a little smile made its way to her lips, "i think you should start giving your designs to major brands and collaborating with them, and at the same time slowly build your brand, plan it out, and we'll go from there."

her thought process made sense, although you weren't sure if you'd be able to do this, "this sounds good in theory, nevertheless i can't help but doubt if i have my ability to pull this off."

yizhou stood up, walking around the table and taking a seat beside you. she took both of your hands, "trust me, you can do it! i believe in you." her eyes held sincerity and warmth, a look you weren't at all used to.

"why? why do you believe me?" you muttered, voice barely audible. she smiled, "because i'm your friend, i know how you are. i know you're capable of achieving your dreams, you have that spark in you; you just need to ignite it and produce a fire."

you looked down, lips curving into a faint smile, this is what having friends is like? you actually made a real friend? "you think so?" you asked, eyes holding hesitation.

yizhou had the most hopeful grin on her face. this was the first time you'd completely let your guard down, let her lower the walls you'd mentally built around yourself. "yeah." she said.

──────── ✧✦

six months. it'd been six months since mission: freedom, named by yizhou, started. many things happened during the six months: you'd collaborated with many brands and your own was pretty much planned out, only a little more preparing as well as pulling some strings were pending.

you were condemned to around three or four dinners with your parents' business partner's son, park jihoon, which you reluctantly went to. the latter just didn't pick up on your super obvious hints that you didn't like the meetings or him.

you were now a part of yizhou's friend group, you refused to meet them at first but with her pout and cat eyes, you were left no choice. you considered all four of them your friends now.

if you'd told your self from half a year ago that you'd have four friends and a good career plan, she would've cringed and rolled her eyes internally, saying "stop talking fakery."

maybe the one above didn't like seeing you happy, you thought as you sat across from jihoon with your and his parents present, talking about the potential engagement of you two.

you wanted to dissappear. you wanted to just run away and hangout with yizhou, she was all that was on your mind. you two had gotten close. she always had your back, always there when you needed her.

she made you realize it's okay to depend on someone and not bottle up your emotions. she warped your perception of the world, showing you the colours and joys of adventure and exploration.

"y/n." your mum snapped her fingers, making you snap out of the spiral of thoughts in your head, "yes?" you straightened, looking forward to see jihoon give you a shy smile.

you now knew he picked up the hints you gave but chose to ignore them and live in delusion that you liked him when you hated as much as sparing him a little glance.

"you are happy with this decision, right?" the look your dad gave you was enough for you to know the question was only here to serve as a formality and the answer you were supposed to give was a yes.

you gulped, head starting to hurt. every time yizhou told you to rebel against them played like a broken record in you mind, however much you tried to suppress them, they didn't budge.

you nodded, knowing your words weren't on your side and you'd say something you'd regret later. your mum held a practiced smile which didn't reach her eyes, same with your dad.

jihoon and his parents were overjoyed, meaning you were the only person not actually approving of this arrangement. you wished the ground would swallow you up.

jihoon soon left with his parents, not before giving you a wink and sly grin. you gave a blank smile and immediately stood up, taking a beeline for your room as soon as they left.

you didn't know when the tears started flowing down your cheeks. you didn't know when you jumped out of your window, still in the elegant light blue dress you wore along with your plain flats.

you weren't sure where you were headed, your feet walked on accord of your heart, not your mind. you were accustomed to disregarding what your heart suggested, opting to be logical, never letting your feeling get a hold of you, but you'd changed since then.

you ended up at the door of yizhou and aeri's shared dorm, cheeks stained in tears and bottom lip quivering. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks, trying to rid them of the dried tears the best you could.

after a few knocks by you, a drained yizhou opened the door. her eyes were as wide as saucers when she took in your dolled up but tear stained and bummed self.

she didn't say anything and instead firstly ushered you inside, locking the main door behind her. she guided you to her room, gesturing to aeri who sat on the couch with a wide mouth at your appearance that she'll tell her later.

yizhou sat you down, giving you a cup of water and then sitting down on her bed with you. "so, what happened?" she asked, tone laced with worry, bottom lip in hostage of her teeth.

you told her everything that went down hours ago, she was flabbergasted. she thought these dinners you went to weren't serious and were just there to make sure your parents were occupied so that mission: freedom didn't face any problems.

"why did you agree?" she shrieked, fury swirled in her, each sentence that left your mouth only feuled the rage. "what could i do?" you had your head in your hands, it felt like your head on the verge of exploding.

she knew what she was about to say was dumb. so dumb. incredulously dumb. though it sounded the best and most logical, she didn't like seeing you upset like this because your parents can't stand to see their daughter happy.

"how about you run away?"

your head snapped to her, your gaze saying are you serious right now? she clapped her hands, "listen, you have a ton of inheritance money right?" she asked, mentally fitting the pieces of your puzzle of life.

you nodded. you were given a hefty allowance and had inherited a great sum from your grandparents from both sides, you had your own bank account that included all the cash.

"you go back, pack your clothes, tell your parents that you don't want to marry that jiyeon-jihoon whatever his name is, we both know they'll disagree. then you say i've had enough of being your doll, i'm leaving and shit. after all that, you leave and stay with me, i'll arrange everything here."

she said it so nonchalantly like she didn't just tell you to get yourself disowned. "i don't know if i can talk back to them. also i don't want to burden you." you'd never done anything out of line, you were always doing what they wanted you to, always tried to please them, even when you knew they wouldn't say any encouraging words.

nothing was ever enough for them.

"you'll have to, y/n. i know you can do it. i believe in you. and you're not a burden, don't think of yourself that way." she squeezed your shoulder encouragingly. "you do, but i don't believe in myself, ning."

"don't worry, i'll have enough faith in you for the both of us!" yizhou giggled and leaned in to give you a warm hug. your hands hesitantly wrapped around her. you'd only gave eachother a hug a few times before, each time a little less awkward than the last.

you pulled away, muttering a "okay, i'll do it." she looked at you, eyes having an unreadable expression. you couldn't register when she leaned in, realizing she just kissed your forehead when a strand of her hair tickled your cheek.

"i know you have it in you, my star."

the nickname sounded almost melodic, like a symphony you'd instantly fell in love with. "my star?" you asked, tilting your head. an overwhelmingly lovely feeling bloomed in yizhou's chest at the sight.

she hoped her cheeks weren't flushed or if they were, you didn't notice, "like the nickname?" you nodded, a bright smile on your face. the upcoming storm you could feel brewing didn't matter at all when yizhou was here with you.

"i'll get going now." you said and stood up, smoothing your dress our of habit. "nice dress." she said, you giving her a shy thank you in return, you were never good with compliments, having not received many by the people you cared most about in your upbringing.

you gave aeri a wave on your way out, her reciprocating the gesture with a smile. you didn't mention the kiss nor did yizhou when you left. she hoped you wouldn't ask, as she didn't know why she did that either.

you took the few pairs of clothes you actually liked wearing, leaving the closet still more than half full which were all the clothes your parents made you wear.

you packed your bag, a million thoughts and possibilities running through your head. should you really do this? should you burden yizhou? you wanted to think of every outcome, but you resisted, you needed to think of the future, you were not going to marry jihoon.

you changed into regular blue jeans and a white button up, slinging your bag around your shoulder after stuffing your phone, charger and a few essentials in the bag.

you composed yourself, your nerves were slowly getting to you, anxiety creeping up in your body. you thought of the freedom you'd started wishing for that you'd finally have after this and descended the stairs.

your mum and dad were both on the couch, discussing something amongst themselves when you stood infront of them. their attention diverted to you. your mum gave you a distasteful look as she eyed your outfit.

"what is this?" your dad asked, his deep voice ringing in your ears. you took a deep breath, repeating the sentence in your head before you spoke it out loud, "i don't want to marry jihoon."

the silence that followed the blatant statement was suffocating. it was like they were waiting for you to take back your words or say that you actually meant i do want to marry jihoon.

"what?" your mum broke the tense atmosphere. "i said i'm against this arranged marriage." you repeated your words, more confidently this time.

"i hope you're aware of what you're saying, y/n." your dad said, you could see through him, through his eyes which appeared their usual brown but had underlying greed.

your dad wasn't happy as this could break his deal, not because his daughter is going against him, against his morals. that's when it hit you like a punch in the gut, you really were just a moneymaker they were investing in by giving you the title of their daughter.

the years of bitter words you'd kept hidden about them and their unbothered gazes now were enough to break the little patience you had.

your mum stood up and walked over to you, "you will be his wife." you gritted your teeth, you were done. they were no one to treat you like this, you were done with tolerating their narcissistic, greedy and self-absorved selves.

"i'm done being the picture-perfect daughter you want me to be. i will not marry him and i certainly won't give up my dreams to follow your path and become equally as terrible as you are."

you wanted to say more, wanted to voice your frustration you'd skillfully hid for years, yet your flow was broken by your mum's hand meeting your cheek. your head whipped to the side, mouth agape.

"since you've learned to talk back and be an ungrateful brat, you'll learn to live as an orphan." your mum spat out. you neither replied nor cried, you weren't fazed by being a disappointment in their eyes anymore.

"leave, you're not my daughter." your father ended the conversation and you nodded. your mum huffed, "enjoy being a nobody, you're nothing without us."

you scoffed, a smirk on your face as you spoke, "good challenge, i'd love to prove your controlling bitchy self wrong." you didn't say anything further, you didn't wait for them to talk either.

you walked out the main door, leaving your twisted parents and past behind, ready to embrace everything you loved and cherished.

the feeling of freedom spread through your veins, it felt like you'd escaped from your personal prison that you'd lived in since you were born.

yizhou and aeri both welcomed you with open arms when you reached their dorm for the second time that night. you gave them a tired smile and thanked the two profusely.

yizhou had placed blankets and a few pillows on the couch, "i'll be sleeping here, you'll sleep in my room." your brows furrowed, "what do you mean you're going to sleep on the couch?"

"it's just for this night, i talked to jimin she'll arrange a bunk bed on top of mine in my room tomorrow." she talked like it was the most normal thing to sleep on the couch.

well, it was for her. for you? terrible, something you'd not done before and you couldn't stand to see her sleep there for you. "no, it's your dorm, i'll sleep on the couch."

past you would've rather died than have said that.

"what, no! you're not sleeping there!" she exclaimed, aeri just shot a knowing glance to yizhou, who glared at her. "how about you two sleep in the same bed, it's not that small."

aeri's voice brought a little pause of silence. yizhou spoke, "yeah, i don't mind. we can if you're okay with it, star." the assertive sentence paired with the nickname made your mind go blank for a second.

you didn't want her to sleep there and she didn't want you to sleep there whatsoever, the only other thing was for you two to sleep together as you didn't like the idea of her or you going to sleep with aeri too.

"okay." you said, running your hand through your hair in an attempt to camouflage the heat on your cheeks. you tried but aeri saw the redness on your ears and smirked to herself.

"it's settled then, good night you two, i'm off." aeri teasingly winked at yizhou, which went unbeknownst to you. she took the blankets and you took the pillows. you trailed behind yizhou to her room.

you two layed down, turning off the lamp, darkness enveloping the room. yizhou was exhausted and slept in the matter of a few minutes maximum and you were still wide awake.

your mind referred back to the hours prior, the little part of you that still loved them resurfaced even though you tried to bury it, tears were welling up in your eyes.

you wiped them with your hand, you did what you did for your future. you were now free, you didn't need to be flawless or perfect anymore; you could be you.

──────── ✧✦

a year. the earth had completed a full revolution around the sun since you left your then house. your inherited money and the money you got from your collaborations were enough for you to live without having to work another job.

in the past year, you graduated two years earlier, at the same time as aeri and jimin. you also officially started your own brand, named luciscura.

the word meant the light born from the shadows. it represented you, how you used to live in a dark world, in your parents' shadows and how with yizhou, you shined, you saw your own potential and turned your world vivid.

yizhou was in her third year and minjeong was in her last year. you still helped yizhou whenever she needed help in physics while you worked on your brand.

luciscura was a rapidly growing clothing brand, known for its chic, timeless and diverse style. the brand sold classy dresses, grunge pants, tops, bags, heels, everything anyone could think of.

you never ran out of ideas when it came to fashion. you were also quite popular on Instagram, known as the young and rich ceo and fashion designer on social media.

your instagram had a large following, though you only posted once every month. you were loved by everyone, like you were in university, but this time it was different.

everyone loved who you were, not the perfect image you presented of yourself in uni. you liked it that way. you'd also moved into a new appartment.

after aeri and jimin graduated, leaving yizhou and minjeong, the two started living in one dorm. aeri, an art major, was now one of the models of luciscura and jimin, a fashion design major, was also a part of your team.

the two loved working with you, you'd practically became one of them now, you proudly referred to them as your bestfriends. you were still quiet and preferred your small circle of friends.

you loved the new life you'd made for yourself. you were as content as you could be in the moment. you did face struggles still, regarding your brand and your parents.

your parents tried to meddle in your brand and sabotage it, however, as it goes— cunning parents raise even more cunning children, you didn't fall into their trap, it wasn't easy to fight against their corporation that had been there for generations, but you gave it your all.

you fought for luciscura, the brand you'd spent blood, sweat and tears making. jihoon sometimes dropped by your office too, in the name of a business deal and you did merely that, treated the meeting like you would a business meeting, though he tried to chat with you.

he tried to ask you out and you disagreed to his face, you told him you never liked him. he blew up, saying he liked you better when you were kinder. you said too bad. she's gone now.

many other fashion brands tried to get in your way, but what they didn't know was the fact that you were incredibly smart and strategizing was second nature to you. they posed a threat, you bit back, hard.

no matter what situation you were in, yizhou was there by your side. in the lows and the highs, when you were stressed or overjoyed, she was there. she was always there.

she never lost faith in you. you lost faith in yourself, but she didn't. she reminded you of how far you've come, how proud she was of you. she was there for you whenever you needed her.

you thought she did so because she was your bestfriend, and it made you mad at yourself for feeling the way you felt. you hated how much you liked, heck maybe even loved yizhou.

it was your birthday. you didn't even remember it, only apprehending you'd turned twenty one when yizhou walked in, cake in her hands. she looked at you like you were a alien when you told her you didn't know why she had a cake with her.

"you know, you're the first person i've seen who doesn't remember their birthday, star." she shook her head in disapproval. you shrugged with a smile, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"happy birthday, my star." she wished you, feeding you a piece of the cake she'd made herself, it was a little too sweet for you but you talked about it as if it was the best thing you'd tasted in your life.

"what's my gift?" you asked, tilting your head. she couldn't help but giggle, looking endearingly at you. she always referred to you as the gentle giant, as you were the tallest out of you five but with her, you were the most gentle and caring person.

"close your eyes," she began. you complied, she waved her hand infront of your eyes, checking to see if your eyes were actually closed. once she was sure, she bit her lip.

what she was about to do would either make her the happiest girl in the world or ruin the most ethereal friendship she's had in her entire life of twenty one and a half years.

she stood on her tippy toes, her hands cupping your face. you didn't know what was happening, you could feel her breath ghosting on your lips. yizhou leaned in, connecting her lips with yours.

you gasped, you didn't know what to do, you hadn't kissed anyone before. she knew the fact and swiped her thumb over your cheek encouragingly, making you slowly relax in her hold.

your hands hesitantly rested on her waist. you eventually got a hang of it, following the rhythm she'd set. she pulled away, butterflies dancing in her stomach and you hoped she didn't hear your heart which was racing a mile a minute.

"so, how's the present?" she asked breathlessly, her hands looping around your neck. "the best i've ever gotten." you giggled, letting your head fall in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

her scent filled up your senses, overwhelming you in the most amazing way. "i love you, my star." you didn't know how to reply to her confession.

it seemed like she sensed your difficulty in expressing yourself, "it's okay, you don't have to confess right now, i'll wait for you." she twirled a strand of your hair.

"i, i love.. i love you too." you said, you voice was muffled but she heard it. her mind went haywire then and there, she needed to hear the sentence from you again.

she cupped your face again, pulling you out of the position you were in, "say that again, please." the way she asked so gently and how her hold was so soft and delicate, it was like she feared you'd break if she held you too hard.

your cheeks were dusted bright pink, ears also red, "i said, i love you." she kissed you again. and again, and another time. she couldn't get enough of you.

the night was enchanting, knowing she loved you the way you loved her, you couldn't be happier. your heart felt elated, contented, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced before.

at some point, slowly but surely, luciscura grew, flourishing into one of the mainstream brands. yizhou at last graduated and it'd now been two years since you two started dating.

you were pleased. you were living your dream life. you were the ceo of one of the most iconic and popular fashion brands, luciscura; you had three beatfriends you'd never forget and you had the love of your life, yizhou.

somewhere along the way, jimin and minjeong began dating while aeri was happy with her single, model life. you couldn't wish for anything more than what you had.

you wouldn't trade your loved ones and luciscura for the world. your parents now wanted you back, but you knew better, they just wanted your money.

jihoon also tried to chase you, you had enough of it and one such time, kissed yizhou infront of him. that was enough to shut him up and get him off of you.

you and yizhou moved in together into a new appartment. she now ran a bakery along with minjeong. it was close to luciscura, which made it easier for you and jimin to visit yizhou and minjeong in between little breaks.

"happy second year anniversary, my darling." you kissed yizhou and gestured for her to look at your queen sized bed, filled to the brim with boxes.

you handed her a bouquet of silk ribbon roses you'd made yourself, "made this myself, all for you." she was lovestruck. she jumped into your arms, you twirling her around, your and her giggles mixing and filling the room.

"you're the best, i love you so much, happy anniversary!" yizhou pulled you in with the collar of your shirt with one hand while the other held the bouquet after you set her down.

she kissed you passionately, your hands already on her hips, lost in the feeling. "thank you so much, my star." she kissed you all over your face, making you giggle more.

"no, i should thank you. all that i am, it's all because of you, i'm nothing without you, my darling." you left a lingering kiss on her forehead before you pecked her again, your foreheads touching.

the day was perfect, you knew that if you'd told the y/n who was still in her first year three and a half years ago that this would be her life, she'd actually cry.

you would forever be thankful to your darling, your yizhou, for coming up to you after failing her physics exam. if it weren't for her being new and not knowing better, you wouldn't have been here.

your love for yizhou was everlasting. she was the love of your life, she taught you something no one else could. she taught you the act of loving in return.

ning yizhou taught you redamancy.

you showed her the most dreamy and ethereal example of redamancy you knew— the love you sacred in your heart for her.

𐙚 taglist! @bambisnc @spidrgamer

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

ᯓ✦ archives!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ regulars! @woniefication @shyoko

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calledforhelp · 2 days ago

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I would like to politely remind the audience that this degeneracy is going to constantly be used against you. I'd like to remind you that this degeneracy is why my then partner and I had to have a discussion about how we probably shouldn't hold hands or touch in public during Australia's vote on gay marriage.

Source.

I'd like to remind you all that I remember the accusation of gay equating to abuse, to paedophilia, to degeneracy, being plastered on every street corner because I was gay, terrified and fucking there. This news article couldn't verify shit NO, they absolutely could've. This was at every railway station. This was everywhere. There were worse posters than this. I vaguely remember staring at one blaming gay people for rape statistics. I was fucking there.

There walking in protests with a giant posterboard rainbow sign I made at home in my hands, with the asexual flag painted on one cheek and the sapphic flag painted on the other and my then partner laughing herself into a panic attack every time we passed police officers. There listening to my managers at work talk loudly about how "gay people really need to sit down and shut the fuck up". There listening to my coworkers calling trans people the sort of derogatory terms I'm actually not gonna repeat. Listening to conversations about how this affected children in schools and how this was going to ruin the future of Australia going forward if people didn't vote no.

And it happened because a bunch of government officials decided they were going to hold a fucking referendum on it so that whichever way the cards fell they couldn't be held responsible, unless it turned out positively, in which case they could walk forward and take the credit.

When you systematically decide that there is a group of people that should not exist you will always, always, invite the comparison of other groups of people to that group, until that definition expands and broadens and becomes a poster staple for what people define as "degeneracy".

Congratulations. It will now be used against you.

DNI lists on this website are fucking insane

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uncuredturkeybacon · 3 days ago

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𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 || 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which the sky's the limit

You’ve always liked the quiet hum of a plane settling after landing—engines down to a gentle purr, passengers filtering out row by row, cabin lights flickering brighter in artificial daytime. You’re still in the cockpit finishing your post-flight checklist, one hand on your clipboard and the other flipping switches with muscle memory that’s second nature by now. It’s been a long flight from Dallas to JFK, but smooth. Easy. You pride yourself on that.

You’re about to stretch your legs when a knock sounds against the cockpit door.

“Captain?” one of the flight attendants peeks in, eyes sparkling. “We’ve got someone kinda special onboard. Can you come out for a sec?”

You arch a brow, curiosity piqued. “Special like how? Is Beyoncé back there?”

She laughs, “Close enough.”

You unclip your harness, adjust your hat, and step out into the cabin—empty except for two of your flight attendants and a girl who, frankly, looks like she stepped off a billboard for Nike.

She’s standing near row 3, suitcase by her feet, blond hair tucked into a hood, face turned away as she poses for a picture with Malia and Jess, your crew. Then she turns.

And suddenly, she’s looking at you.

Wide hazel eyes lock on yours. Her lips part.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, just loud enough that you hear it.

You pause, suppressing the grin threatening to bloom. You’ve been looked at a lot of ways in your uniform—respect, fear, boredom. But this? This is different. She’s blushing. Her grip tightens around the handle of her suitcase like she needs something to anchor her.

“Hailey, this is our pilot,” Malia says, beaming like she knows exactly what she just witnessed. “Captain Y/L/N. Best in the sky.”

You give her a smile and tip your hat slightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Hailey.”

“Y-you too,” she says quickly, then clears her throat, composing herself. “Thanks for, um, flying. Like, the plane. Obviously.”

You chuckle, low and warm. “I try to keep it in the air most days. How was it? Decent landing?”

“It was perfect,” she says, maybe too quickly. “Like butter.”

Jess nudges her. “She’s a big fan of smooth rides, apparently.”

You let your gaze linger a little longer than strictly professional. “Glad I could impress you, then.”

Her ears turn pink.

You turn to the crew. “Y’all done swooning or should I leave you alone with her?”

“Go ahead and steal her, Captain,” Malia teases. “We’re clocking out.”

You smile and gesture toward the jet bridge. “I’ll walk you out.”

She blinks. “Oh—you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” you say smoothly, already grabbing your rolling bag. “Besides, I’m curious.”

You fall into step beside her, the echo of your footsteps bouncing through the empty cabin as you make your way toward the exit.

“So,” you begin, glancing over, “what is it you do that got my crew acting like fangirls?”

She gives a soft, nervous laugh, pushing her hood down. “I play basketball. I, um… was at Louisville. Transferred to LSU. Then transferred to TCU.”

You raise a brow. “Impressive.”

She shrugs like she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but her smile betrays her pride.

“And what brings you to New York?” you ask.

She bites her lip. “The draft’s this week. WNBA.”

You stop walking, turning to her with genuine surprise. “No kidding.”

She shakes her head, a little breathless. “Nope.”

You reach out and lightly touch her elbow, your voice sincere. “Hey… congratulations. That’s huge.”

She smiles, a little dazed. “Thank you.”

You both reach the open door. The breeze of JFK’s jet bridge hits you. You take a breath, then open your arms a little, unsure why it feels so natural.

She doesn’t hesitate.

Her arms wrap around your waist, your hands finding her shoulders. It’s a gentle squeeze—firm enough to mean something, soft enough to leave room for what could be. She smells like jasmine and airport coffee. You hold her for a second longer than necessary, then pull back.

“Good luck out there,” you say quietly. “And hey, if you ever want to fly again, I know a pretty decent captain.”

She nods, lips pressed together in something that looks like longing. “Yeah… I might take you up on that.”

You grin and turn, wheeling your bag behind you, not daring to look back even though every fiber in your body wants to.

Behind you, Hailey stays frozen at the threshold, eyes glued to your retreating form.

And when you're gone from sight, she exhales hard, dragging a hand through her hair.

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “I should’ve gotten her number.”

A week after the draft, Hailey Van Lith boards a commercial flight from New York to Chicago—row 8A, window seat, hoodie up, backpack shoved beneath the seat in front of her. She's exhausted, emotionally and physically. The past seven days have been a whirlwind—media tours, red carpets, interviews that blurred together, people congratulating her so much it almost started to feel surreal.

Chicago Sky.

Her name had been called. Her dream had come true. And still…

Still, she finds herself sitting here, fingers absently tracing the rim of her water cup, heart beating a little too fast for someone who should be on cloud nine.

She isn’t thinking about basketball right now.

She’s thinking about you.

It hits her the second the plane begins taxiing and the soft chime sounds overhead. The intercom crackles.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking…”

Her head jerks up.

Her breath catches.

That voice.

Your voice.

No way.

“…welcome aboard this flight to Chicago. We’re looking at smooth skies and a relatively short journey today, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. We’ll be taking off shortly.”

The intercom cuts off.

Hailey blinks. Stares forward. Then she glances around the cabin like she’s waiting for someone else to confirm it. Did anyone else hear that? Did they hear you?

Her heart is doing laps in her chest now, thudding painfully in her ribcage. She knows that voice. She knows that voice.

She grips the armrest, lets out a shaky breath, and smiles to herself in disbelief. It’s you.

It has to be.

She doesn’t even know your full name—just that you’re Captain Y/L/N, that you walk like the sky owes you something, and that your smirk knocked her flat a week ago in a mostly empty airplane.

She cursed herself for not getting your number.

Now she’s on your flight again. The universe, apparently, is a dramatic romantic.

The whole flight, she’s useless. Can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Can't even pretend to scroll through her phone. Her knee bounces restlessly. Her eyes drift to the cockpit every five minutes like you’re going to magically walk out and make a grand entrance down the aisle. She thinks of your smile, the way your hand touched her elbow, the way you hugged her without hesitation.

She replays your voice on the intercom in her head.

She tries to come up with something cool to say in case she sees you again.

And then, all too soon, the plane begins its descent.

As the wheels hit the runway with a soft bump and the roar of the brakes fills the cabin, she swears her pulse spikes again. Another chime, another crackle of static.

“Welcome to Chicago, folks. Local time is 4:17 p.m., skies are clear, and it’s a beautiful day to start something new. On behalf of the crew, I want to thank you for flying with us. We know you have a choice in how you travel, and we’re always grateful when you fly with us.”

That last line has a different weight to it, like it’s meant for someone. Like it’s meant for her.

Hailey swallows hard, eyes still glued to the cockpit door.

You’re here. Again. By complete chance—or maybe not. Maybe fate’s just giving her a second shot.

And this time?

She’s not letting you walk away without getting your number.

Not a chance.

Hailey’s still seated, heart pounding like it’s game day at the Final Four. The plane is parked. The seatbelt sign dings off. Passengers begin standing, reaching for bags, shuffling into the aisle, but Hailey doesn’t move.

She waits.

Waits as the rows in front of her file out one by one. Her fingers twitch around the strap of her backpack. Her palms are clammy. Her mind is racing with thoughts that all spiral into the same core idea:

You’re here. You’re real. And she’s not letting you leave again.

Finally, the last of the passengers disappear into the jet bridge.

She stands slowly, stretching her legs as she slings the backpack over one shoulder. She’s got her hoodie up still, more out of nervous instinct than disguise. She walks down the aisle alone.

The cabin is eerily quiet now, empty and echoey. One of the flight attendants spots her near the front and flashes a grin.

“Someone's waiting,” she says, voice all sing-song.

Hailey blinks. “W-what?”

The flight attendant jerks her thumb toward the open cockpit door.

And there you are.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, hat off now, dark hair slightly tousled from the headset. You look just as effortless as the first time she saw you—maybe even more dangerous now with that smirk tugging at your lips.

“Took you long enough,” you say, and your voice is warm, teasing, familiar.

Hailey opens her mouth, then closes it again.

You tilt your head. “Didn’t expect to see you on my flight again. Must be fate, huh?”

She finally finds her voice. “Either that, or you’re stalking me.”

You laugh, the sound making her knees go weak.

You push off the frame and grab your own bag, wheeling it behind you as you nod toward the exit. “Walk me out?”

She steps forward, falling into stride beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She’s never had a conversation feel this charged—like every word matters, every second is laced with something unspoken.

“So,” you glance sideways at her, “Chicago Sky, huh?”

“You heard?” she asks, eyes widening a little.

“I may or may not have Googled you after you walked off my plane last week.”

She stares at you, stunned for a beat.

“You Googled me?”

You shrug with a half-grin. “Had to know who my charming passenger was. Turns out, you’re kind of a big deal.”

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Yeah, well. I’m heading to do all the signing and photo stuff today.”

“Exciting.” Your voice dips, gentler now. “Congratulations, Hailey. Really.”

“Thanks,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Means a lot coming from you.”

You both slow as you approach the end of the jet bridge. The terminal hum grows louder just beyond the doors, but it’s like the world narrows around just the two of you for a moment.

You stop walking, turn to face her. You reach for your phone, unlocking it with a flick of your thumb.

“So,” you say, not missing a beat, “you gonna make the same mistake twice or should we fix that?”

Hailey swallows. “What?”

“Your number,” you say, offering her the phone. “You’re not walking away without giving it to me this time.”

She breaks into a smile so wide it crinkles the corners of her eyes. Her fingers are shaking just a little as she types it in, but she hands your phone back like it’s sacred now.

You glance down at the new contact. “Hailey Van Lith. Sky’s newest star. Got it.”

Then, almost on instinct, you pull her into a hug—warm, steady, grounding. Her arms go around your waist just like before, and for a second, she closes her eyes. Breathes you in.

She feels your lips move near her ear.

“I don’t know what Chicago’s got planned for you, but I’m really glad I get to watch you rise.”

Hailey pulls back, stunned into silence again, but this time she recovers quickly.

“You better be watching,” she says, grinning. “You’ve got front row seats now.”

You wink. “And a cockpit view, if you ever want to fly again.”

Then you’re walking away, rolling your bag into the terminal. You toss one last look over your shoulder, and her heart leaps again.

She stands there, eyes following you until you're out of sight.

And this time?

She’s the one whispering it under her breath, lips curved into a smile she can’t hide.

“Damn… I got her number.”

#hailey van lith #hailey van lith x reader #lesbian #wlw #wuh luh wuh #wnba x reader #chicago sky

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hyunjincanraptoo · 2 days ago

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Hiii for your 500 follower event can I request number 4 that sounds like so much fun and delicious 🤭

And congratulations on 500 followers love! Here’s to many more! 💙

Hi, beautiful Cait!! Tysm, baby 💜 I really wanted to write number 4 cause I love Ghost so much, I'm glad you are the one who asked for it 😊

4. His hands moving lower during pottery night

Prompt list— open

Word count: 914

Warnings: smut

Alexa, play Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers

It started with something dumb your friend said over lunch one day.

“You’re totally disconnected from your feminine energy. You should do something creative. Sensual. Artistic”

You laughed at the time, but the words stuck. They hung in the air later that night while you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was right.

When you told Hyunjin a few days later, he blinked once, then gave you that crooked little silly smile you knew meant he was trying not to laugh, “Feminine energy? What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. Flow, softness, intuition…. being in tune with yourself”. You waved your hand vaguely, cheeks warming, “Whatever. She said maybe I should try working with my hands”

He hummed with a teasing smirk in his lips, “I have a few ideas”

“Don’t”

He held up both palms in surrender, “What about pottery, then?”

You expected him to brush it off, but a few days later, he picked you up in the afternoon with a secret smile on his face, “You said you wanted to get in touch with your inner goddess. Come on”

The studio was cozy and quiet, and smelled like wet clay and damp wood.

You didn’t know Hyunjin came here but it made sense.

He guided you in with a soft hand at your back, setting you up in front of the wheel, rolling up his sleeves to show you how to press your foot down to start the spin, how to wedge the clay, how to center it with both hands.

You were terrible at it. Sloppy, tense, too focused. He watched, amused, as your mound of clay collapsed for the third time.

“You’re holding your breath, babe”, he murmured, “Relax”

“I am relaxed”

“You’re not. You’re overthinking it”, he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Let me help”

When he sat down with his legs framing yours, something in you shifted. It wasn’t just the warmth of him at your back, it was the way he settled against you like he belonged there.

He guided your hands, but his slow, confident touch said more. He wasn’t rushing through the motions, he was inviting you to feel— to soften.

His palms wrapped over yours, grounding you. His breath moved with yours, chest to your back, syncing without effort.

And for a moment, it wasn’t about the clay at all.

You felt his hands slip from your fingers to your forearms, then to your sides, dragging heat and clay along with his touch. Your body tensed at first, but soon began to melt under his touch. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled as relaxation hit you.

Then one of his hands slipped lower. Just a little bit, just enough to make you crumble completely.

Your mind said your clothes were gonna be ruined, that it was going to be messy, that you should've stopped him. But your body didn’t want that.

Your body, usually overworked, over scheduled, over everything, softened under the tenderness of his care. You leaned back instinctively, craving more of his warmth, more of his magical touch.

He responded in kind, lips brushing your neck, sending a shiver through your spine.

“I think I’m getting it now”, you whispered.

He hummed, proud of the result, “Yes, baby. You are doing great"

The wheel spun on forgotten beside you as he kissed just below your ear, then your jaw. You felt your stomach twist and your thighs instinctively pressing closer together. A different kind of magnetic energy.

He shifted you gently, laying your back on the studio old mat. Your hands were smudged with clay, but you couldn't care less.

When he knelt between your thighs, it was completely unhurried. His gaze held yours, and it felt like he was peeling you open without touching a single piece of clothing yet.

And when he did touch you, it was slow, reverent. His fingers moved up your thighs and pulled you open in a quiet authority, and when his mouth met you— you gasped.

It wasn’t just physical. It was deeper than that.

He sucked you like he meant it. Like he was trying to bring something back to life inside you. The part of you that had been dormant, hidden beneath layers of self consciousness and responsibility.

You were dizzy with his tongue— it moved patiently, precisely. And the way his hands held your hips like they were made of fragile ceramic, it made you feel like you owned the whole damn world. Like beneath all the pleasure he was giving to you, it also had a kind of devotion that you weren't used to— but you were loving every second of it.

This was the ‘you’ that had been waiting. The version that felt, that softened, that opened without thinking too much.

He murmured into your skin, “Let me adore you. I’ve got you baby. Just feel, nothing else”.

You cried out, thighs trembling as tension built low in your belly, and when you came, your back arched and it felt like release and rebirth all at once— like you found yourself again beneath his hands

Afterward, he stayed there. Kissing your inner thighs, caressing your waist, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

“You’re one hell of an artist”, you panted, still breathless

“You are a fucking masterpiece”, he said, “I didnt have to do anything”.

Maybe your friend was right. Or maybe your feminine energy had never left you— maybe it had just been waiting for someone who touched like this.

taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127 , @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

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angstywaifu · 2 days ago

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Black Dahlia - 49. Aetos vs Durran

Summary: Just a little challenge filler, and our boy Bodhi getting in way over his head.

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links | Tumblr Community

Challenges had finally started up, and I was feeling a lot better about the first years in our Squad after the training we’d been doing. In front of us Aurora is taking on another first year from Third Wing. Someone I am glad is closer to her size, and seems to be a similar skill level. Seems the teachers weren’t out to test her just yet. She manoeuvres behind the cadet in a move I’d seen Liam teach her. Its not perfect, but she executes it as best she can, putting the cadet in a headlock before pressing on the back of their knee with her boot. Sending them both to the ground as the other cadets knee buckle.

”Looks like she’s learnt a lot from Liam.” Bodhi notes with a nod of his head from next to me.

I nod in agreement. “She has. I’ll have to thank Garrick and Xaden for the advice.”

Though it was already clear without their advice how good Liam was. I probably would have paired them together anyway.

”You thanking me? That would be a first.” Garrick adds as he pushes into the space next to me with a smug look on his face.

”You heard nothing.” I snap back, causing both boys to chuckle at me.

”Oh I heard everything.” Garrick teases, the evidence of his smirk evident in his voice.

A few seconds later Aurora’s opponent taps on the mat, yielding to the headlock, a huge grin on her face as she rushes back to the other first years who all congratulate her as they pat her on the back. It seemed I lucked out on the first years I got. All of them getting along and willing to help each other. Something I knew wasn’t the case in a lot of Squad’s.

”Maybe we should have a challenge now we’re not on the same squad.” Bodhi jokes from next to me, causing Garrick and I both to turn and look at him, Garrick bursting out laughing at his words. “What?”

”She would have you on your back before you could even register what had happened.” Garrick tells him.

”Would not. She hasn’t done that in our training sessions.” Bodhi tells him confidently, both of them talking over me as if I’m not here.

”Guarantee she was going easy on you.” Garrick points out.

”You were barely there for any of those.” Bodhi shoots back. And he wasn’t wrong. Garrick rarely turned up for those. But Garrick had also seen me wail on a punching bag, and from how skilled of a fighter he was, I knew he could tell when I was holding back. Which was a lot. He’d also seen enough of my challenges last year to know how I was on the mat. And Bodhi being the first person I could call a friend here, I’d gone a little easier on him.

”Lets test it then.” I tell Bodhi who looks down at me with a smile.

Bodhi and I were both undefeated on the mat so far. Meaning one of us was about to break that streak. Something I knew neither of us wanted. Bodhi because he wanted to appear as ruthless and intimidating as Xaden. Even though he wasn’t once you got to know him. And me because I had something to prove to my brother and father.

Garrick just shakes his head as I shrug off my flight jacket and hand it to him while Bodhi walks over to Emettirio to ask for his challenge. Emettirio looks over at me and nods, motioning towards the mat in front of us where Aurora had been taking on her opponent.

”Kick his ass!” Imogen yells from behind me, smiling at me when I turn to look at her. Completely oblivious to the glare Dain sends her way.

I turn back to Bodhi, rolling my shoulders before shaking out the tension. Bodhi grins at me, his arms relaxed and loose at his sides. It was already clear he wasn’t taking Garrick’s warning seriously. For the most part Bodhi and I were evenly matched, but we’d never fought like this.

”Get ready to lose your win streak.” Bodhi says cockily.

I answer him with a sharp jab to his ribs, his grin vanishing instantly as he stumbles back out of my reach, rubbing the spot where my fist had landed. He shifts into a fighting stance, coming at me fast with a right hook towards my face. I duck it with ease, pivoting on my heel to dodge his follow up left hook. A move he tended to favour. Bodhi might be bigger and stronger, but I was faster. And having grown up training with men and boys far bigger than me, I was use to this.

“You’re doing great sweetie!” Garrick calls from the side of the mat, causing Bodhi to grumble under his breath at Garrick and those who laugh at his comment.

He comes at me again, closing the distance between us quickly. I block the first strike, but the second, a sharp jab, connects with my shoulder before I can move. Pain blooms where he hits me, but I grit my teeth as I absorb it. I slam my elbow into his ribs as he pivots to face me, twisting into the strike to follow through with the move as he twists away. A grunt escapes his lips at the impact, but doesn’t let it falter him as he grabs my arm before I can retreat, yanking me back towards him. A reaction I expected when I didn’t move away. Instead I use the momentum to my advantage. I grab his wrist, pivoting sharply, throwing Bodhi off balance.

In one swift practiced motion I hook my leg behind his knee and slam him to the ground. He lands hard, coughing as the air rushes from his lungs. I drop on top of him, pinning his wrist, my knee pressing into his chest as I draw back my fist. His chest rises and falls, eyes locked onto mine. No more amusement in them, just realisation. Realisation that Garrick was right, and had been holding back.

”What was that about losing my win streak?” I taunt as I smirk down at him.

Bodhi shakes his head and grins up at me. “I might have under estimated you.”

”Maybe? She kicked your ass!” Imogen adds from where she's moved to join Garrick.

”Fine, she kicked my ass.” He grumbles.

I push off him, standing tall as he groans and sits up before offering him a hand. Bodhi pauses and looks at it before taking it.

”Nice work Aetos. Might need to get you that hand to hand combat patch.” Emettirio notes as he walks past us towards another mat.

Bodhi pouts at Emettirio’s back while he grumbles something as we head back over to Garrick and Imogen.

”Told you she would put you on your back.” Garrick teases as he hands back my jacket.

”I just under estimated her.” He fires back defensively, clearly a little hurt about how quickly I’d ended our match.

”Guess you’ll have to challenge me again. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” I say casually as Garrick snickers from next to me.

”What did I do for you?” Bodhi asks with a furrowed brow as Garrick’s snicker becomes more obvious.

“Asking how I wanted my coffee. It really paid off for me.” I tell him proudly as his eyes go wide.

”Nope. Nope. I did not need to know that.” Bodhi declares before putting his hands over his ears and walking away through the crowd of cadets as Garrick's laugh echoes around us.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore @fenixyrie @lagrandeourse @hellodarling1357 @iambored24601 @thegiftofacreativemind @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mysticalfuncollectorus @ohlookitsasinglepoeceofpopcorn @emoravenwolf @imheretobeinvisible @pvrkacciosan

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine #the empyrean #garrick tavis x oc #fourth wing x oc #garrick tavis x dahlia aetos #dahlia aetos #black dahlia #bodhi durran #imogen cardulo #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader

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jeannahas · 12 hours ago

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The day was cold. It was one of those dead, dry kinds of days, when the clouds just kind of... sit there, while wind stiffly crossed the grasslands with barely a care in the world. Stripping away heat. Stripping away moisture.

And the whole time, the entire world sat the same color as an old leather boot left out in the rain far too many times before the sun has had its way with it.

None of that mattered, as I broke through the last wall, as I set alight on the roof of the warehouse.

"Our intel assures us that Obsidian has taken position at the top of the warehouse, hostiles are suspected to have taken most of the town, you should be coming up from his underground network somewhere in Kansas, Starhold."

I grunted, then shoved my way to the rubble, fixing my eyes on the rooftop before me.

He stood there, of course. Imperious. Confident as ever in his crystaline black armor. Smug.

Standing over a body.

My heart ran cold.

"You're too late, Hero. The great Starhold, brought low, delayed. I told you I would do it, if you did not comply. If you resisted my efforts. You hid her well, you fought well, you resisted my ever attempt to waylay you - but you still did not accept my terms. And in the end, your defenses were insufficient. Each turret, each wall, each barrier you put in my way, but a trivial roadblock on the path to delivering you the consequences of your resistance."

I stood still as a statue; eyes locked on her face. Eyes blank, staring up at an uncaring sky. The wind pulled at those auburn curls, I thought of how long she took each morning making sure they sat exactly how she wanted them, how she pouted when I teased her.

She was still wearing her work-clothes. The simple grey suit and white blouse. Her office clothes. She'd been taken from her office. How long had she been tormented, before he killed her? Blood still trickled onto the roof. Minutes, it had been just minutes.

"I had to sacrifice a great deal to take her from you, to prove my superiority, but in the end well... we see how that turned out. Your star-born grace was not nearly enough to save her."

The villain snapped his fingers. Hovercraft lifted up from the grassy knolls surrounding the town, armored henchmen carrying some kind of advanced rifle began to pour out of the buildings, their weapons whining as they prepared to fire.

I reached up numbly, and pulled the earpiece out of my ear, pocketing it.

I didn't see any of my nemesis's prepararions, as my pulse roared in my ears, as my fingers twitched - once. Obsidian lifted his hand, ready to signal his men to fire.

"Congratulations." I whispered into the wind.

My erstwhile nemesis blinked in shock.

"What?"

"You did it, you finally broke me."

The villain before me sneered, comically crooked teeth twisted in triumph as the whisper reached his ears, he even opened his mouth to monologue - at least until I continued speaking.

"No more Hero. No more Mercy. No more sparing wanton criminals. I've had... enough."

His eyes widened for a moment, and I snapped my fingers as the muscles in my jaw twitched. The effect was immediate. Everyone knew that my abilities were in some way connected to the stars. Hence my name. What I had never done though was exert myself completely. Tap into the loosest interpretation of those abilities. They had seen the blinding light. They had seen the searing heat, they had seen the radiation, the vitality. The speed at which I flew through the air.

Stars, however, do something extremely important, they keep planets reigned in check, through sheer mass.

With that snap of my fingers, a perfect circle of space around the tower suddenly crushed in on itself. The three hovercraft slammed into the ground with enough force they flattened into oblong disks. Each minion, guard, soldier, or whatever the fuck they were on the ground flattened into a red paste as gravity multiplied in an instant. Each building around us except for the one we stood on flattened to dust in the blink of an eye. Every tree, every plant, every bush, car, trash can, rock, or pebble instantly sank into the ground, as the rock beneath our feet itself gave way, crushing in on itself, sinking under the obliterating weight I forced upon the world.

My nemesis' eyes widened. I took my eyes off of my finance's body for the first time since i had made it to the roof. I could see in his expression that he realized just how badly he had fucked up. That he realized how few of my cards I had actually revealed.

He tried to take a step back, and I cocked my head sideways. His boot- and just his boot, experience the same crushing gravity, sinking an eighth of an inch into the concrete roofing, pinning him in place.

"What is it?" I asked softly. "Did you think that I was fighting you with everything I had? Did you think you knew me because we fight so often?"

I took a step forward, barely touching the ground as arcs of plasma began to snap off of me, echoes of the rage and agony I forced out of my voice.

"I've avoided casualties for so long... I've stuck to the rules for so long... I've trusted those who make the prisons they shove your lot in to do their fucking jobs for so long... no longer. How many lives have you taken? How many lives have I LET YOU TAKE?"

I glanced down at her. Her perfection. Now lifeless. Ash on the winds of death.

"No. You won't hurt anyone ever again. None of you will."

The supervillain brought his hands together, and a beam of violet light lanced through the air, slamming against my skin, corroding it, corrupting it, cells falling away even as new ones healed into place.

I didn't care.

I snapped my fingers again. The light sputtered, and stopped.

He fell to the ground clutching his chest in pain. He resisted for a moment. I didn't have the energy to be impressed. I just pushed harder.

He screamed in agony, as his clothing began to pull in towards his chest, as his supernaturally strong body fought to maintain its shape. A few pebbles around him began to drift his way.

"You broke my heart, Obsidian. Enjoy meeting yours up close and personal. Goodbye."

He screamed one last time, then folded with a crunch, as his limbs, head, and extremities crushed inwards with a series of excruciatingly brief but extremely sickening snaps.

The fist sized chunk of matter that remained dropped to the ground.

I said nothing. I did nothing. For a long time. I pulled the earpiece from my pocket, and inserted it back into my ear.

Static fizzled for amoment, then I heard the voice of my handler, Seargent Lewis.

"Can you hear me now? Starhold, are you alright? We lost all signatures but yours in the target area, what happened? Do you copy?"

I said nothing, as I removed my earpiece, crushed it to dust in my fist, and scooped up the love of my life, cradling her as tears fell from my eyes.

I would bury her, in that field she liked, with all the trees.

Then.

Oh...THEN.

They would pay.

They would ALL pay.

Seargent Lewis Brand stared at the scene. He didn't have any words. General Handolfer stood at his side.

Devastation.

A single building remained, in the town that Starhold had been sent to in order to stop Obsidian. A warehouse. A perfect circle exactly two meters out from the edge of the west side of the building still stood, miraculously. Everything else...

"Was obsidian found?" Seargent Brand asked the superhero who floated towards him, covered head to toe in mechanical devices and equipment he could never begin to understand.

The man winced.

"It's not pretty."

"Show me."

The superhero paused, then gestured to his companion, a lower ranked superhero with some degree of super-strength. He lifted a ball, about the size of a softball or so.

"What's this?"

"Obsidian."

"What's left of him?"

The floating superhero, Tech, shook his head.

"We scanned the area. This... contains every atom that once comprised the supervillain formerly known as Obsidian. Plastics, metallics, organics, and a few inorganic minerals, all...." Tech pointed to the object. "Right there. Two hundred and thirty pounds, The estimated weight of obsidian in his standard equipment."

"What else was found?" General Handolfer asked, face pale.

"Seventy-three others. In the disc of compressed land around us. Not nearly as compressed, it was more like they had suffered about, fifty G's, all at once."

Handolfer turned to Seargeant Lewis.

"Has Starhold ever displayed gravitational abilities?"

Seargent Lewis looked out at the devastation.

"No."

The cold wind blew.

A radio sputtered to life somewhere among the group who stood at the edge of a three meter drop to the ground below, where the ground of the old region had been compressed to. A soldier ran up to the general and his subordinate.

"It's the prison!"

"What about it?"

"It's been destroyed!"

Both men turned to look at the man.

"What?"

"How?"

The soldier shook his head.

"I don't know - we only got a brief message, six words."

"And?"

The man swallowed.

"The full message was : Prison Destroyed: Starhold Killed them ALL."

Silence ruled amid oppressive grey skies.

General Handolfer turned to the fist-sized chunk of matter that used to be a supervillain with a sigh.

"Congratulations Obsidian.

"You finally broke him."

Congratulations: You did it. You finally broke me. No more Hero. No more sparing criminals. I’ve had enough." With a snap of your fingers, the army of goons just... vanishes. Leaving you alone with your Nemesis and the dead body of your fiancé.

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dyns33 · 24 hours ago

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Devil may care

I needed to write a Dad Matt, because I love Dad Matt stories, this man would be the best and the worst of a father for so many reasons.

Oh and Born Again never happened here. Nope, nope.

Y/N had only had two great loves in her life.

The first, Matt Murdock, during their college years. They weren't really together. Matthew was gallant, but he didn't want to commit to a serious relationship, yet they saw each other regularly.

His best friend often teased him when he saw them together, that it was ridiculous to refuse to name what they were when it was so obvious, which made him groan.

Without going into detail, Matt had told her about his childhood, his mother's abandonment, his father's death, the loss of his vision, his ex. He had a hard time trusting after all that, getting attached to people.

Y/N had tried to understand, to accept. But she was in love, she could feel it, and it wasn't healthy to continue like this if he wouldn't agree to give her more. She'd tried to talk to him about it after graduation, and of course, he'd immediately shut down. That night, it was over.

Three months later, Y/N met the second love of her life. A stunning, surprising entrance, after several weeks of vomiting in the morning and being tired.

"… I can't be pregnant."

"Oh, but you are !" the nurse repeated happily. "The blood test is infallible, you're having a baby ! Congratulations ! The daddy will be delighted !"

Having not been in a relationship since graduating, she didn't have to think twice to figure out who the dad was, and that he wouldn't be delighted.

Y/N could have called Matt. If he hadn't answered, she could also have called Foggy, who had wished her well after the breakup, with a sad smile. They always said they were going to work together, avocados at law.

But he didn't want a serious relationship, much less a child. However, as a good Catholic and a man of honor, Matthew would take responsibility. Unhappy, stuck, he would agree to support her. She loved him too much to inflict that on him.

It was too late to have an abortion, otherwise she might have considered it. There was always adoption too. It wouldn't be easy raising a child alone, with her job and her tiny apartment.

But when that little boy stared at her with his big eyes, Y/N knew she would never leave him. It was love at first sight.

She named him Jack. It came out without thinking, a connection to his father and grandfather, whom he would never meet. He looked a lot like him : the hair, the eyes, the nose. That mischievous little smile, which you couldn't refuse anything.

As expected, it wasn't always easy, despite the help of her family and friends. But she didn't regret it. Every moment with her son was wonderful.

Walks in the park, trips to the pool, birthdays. Even grocery shopping became a game with him, talking to everyone and jumping up and down the aisles, asking to buy everything.

Normally, he stayed close to her, obeying, but that day, the five-year-old boy was probably in an adventurous mood. Y/N had turned her head for a few seconds to grab some cereal and he had disappeared. Panicked, she had checked everywhere, calling his name louder and louder, until she spotted him talking to a stranger.

Except it wasn't a stranger.

If you could say he had changed, it was only to point out that he was even more handsome, with his suit, red glasses, and neatly styled hair.

Head tilted to one side, gripping his cane, Matthew Murdock made a funny face as he concentrated on the long story the little boy was telling him.

He couldn't know. He had no way of knowing, and Y/N slowly approached to hug his son, whispering an apology, hoping he wouldn't recognize her voice.

"Y/N ! No way, what a coincidence ! It's been so long, you… Oh, hello, little man ! Is that your son ?!"

"… Hello Foggy. Yes."

"He's adorable ! Matt, he's adorable ! You should see him ! It's funny, he looks a lot like you, it's like…"

Despite what some might think because of his flashy appearance, Foggy was smart. His sentence cut off abruptly, his smile frozen, and he looked from Jack to Matt, and finally to Y/N, fully understanding what was happening. Forgetting her groceries, Y/N stammered excuses to quickly get out of the store with her son, not giving them time to react.

Perhaps she should have known this would happen when she moved near Hell's Kitchen. Matthew was proud of his neighborhood, born and raised, and never wanted to leave. But it had the cheapest apartments, allowing for a room for Jack.

Maybe he hadn't understood. Maybe he only suspected, but he would choose to forget what had just happened.

But Y/N knew Matt. He was stubborn, he was curious, and above all, he wanted to do good.

So it wasn't really a surprise to find him on her doorstep. She wondered how he'd found her address, but three days of panic attacks seemed about right for him before he presented himself to her.

"… Can I come in ?" he asked nervously.

"Of course. Jack's napping."

"You named him Jack ?"

His lips trembled, betraying his emotion. It touched him that she had chosen his father's name for their son. He admired his father.

Not knowing where to begin, Y/N invited him to sit down, offering him some tea so she could gain more time to find the right words. Beginning with an apology seemed logical.

"I didn't want to force this on you. I won't force it on you. I'm not asking you for anything. If you wanted to see him, I wouldn't object, but I would understand if you…"

"Of course I want to see him." Matt said, his voice full of confidence. "I want to be there for him. For you."

There it was, the famous duty of sacrifice she dreaded so much. Y/N bit the inside of her mouth, unsure how to push him away without hurting or insulting him. Because it was really nice of him to want to be there. But he hadn't asked for all this, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.

"Look, Matt… You don't have to."

"It's my decision."

"I know, and I thank you. I'm sure you'd be wonderful with Jack, that he'd adore you, but… You don't love me. You didn't want anything serious, that's why we broke up, and why I didn't call you when I found out I was pregnant. I didn't want to put you through that. Think carefully, because if I tell him you're his father, then it'll be forever."

Matt listened patiently to her speech, swallowing each word and nodding, before placing his hand on hers.

"I don't need to think."

"Matthew…" she sighed.

"I loved you. I… I want you to know that. I was young, stupid, scared. I'm probably still pretty stupid and scared, Foggy told me that often. He yelled at me a lot when I left you, the biggest mistake of my life. I thought it was for the best. That I didn't deserve you, that I was bound to lose you or hurt you. Y/N… I don't feel obligated at all."

It was too good to be true. He wasn't a liar, she knew that. She'd always been able to trust him, always count on him. But as a mother, Y/N had to be careful.

Swallowing back a sob, she simply squeezed Matt's hand, and he tenderly stroked her fingers.

After a long silence, he resumed his thoughtful pout, indicating that maybe she wasn't entirely wrong to be on her guard.

He mumbled, before saying there was something he needed to tell her before deciding if she wanted him in her life.

Jokingly, she asked if he was married, which made him smile. No, there wasn't anyone else. Good thing, but that didn't mean he wasn't about to tell her something huge.

"So… I… I'm Dar…"

"Mommy ?"

Rubbing his still sleepy eyes, Jack trotted over to the couch to grab Y/N's leg. Frozen on his spot, mouth open, Matt didn't finish his big revelation, flustered.

"Who's that ?" the child asked in a small voice.

"Um… It's, uh…"

"I'm one of your mom's friends. We met at the store, remember ?"

"Oh, yeah."

Jack then flashed a big smile, considering his mom's friends to be his friends, and so he let go of Y/N to cuddle Matt's leg, gripping tightly like a little koala.

This could have panicked Matthew even more, but he couldn't help his beaming smile, patting his son's head before turning his attention back to Y/N, his face lit up with happiness.

They would take their time to catch up, then tell Jack the news, but everything would be fine, she could feel it right now.

Matt would also have to finish telling her his secret, but that couldn't be that important, right ?

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction

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goodluckchamp · 17 hours ago

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WARM-UP BOYS (18+)

PAIRING: Tashi Duncan x Artashi x Reader WORD COUNT: 2899 CONTENT TAGS: Smut, oral, through the fabric, fingering, jealousy, insecurity, comfort, hotel, diner, date night, kind of toxic if we really think about it but it's okay, girlfriend!Tashi who is happy and safe thanks to lesbianism SUMMARY: Why would you be jealous of two boys who call themselves "Fire and Ice?” Fuck them and their goofy nickname... Who do they think they are? Tashi is your girlfriend. Not theirs.

You’re sitting across from Tashi in a sticky booth, legs brushing under the table, plates of shared fries and milkshakes between you. The two of you managed to slip away after one of her matches. She won, of course— she always wins. And she hides herself well every time, with polite handshakes and assured smiles by the cameras and fans.

But you know Tashi. You see her. She’s completely exhilarated, softened by triumph— in a way she only lets show in front of you. You love her like this— giddy, victorious, satisfied. Grinning at you, hair slightly damp and body still buzzing from the game.

She’s rambling about her third set when she looks past you— and she pauses. You turn around to follow her eyes and— oh. Two boys have walked towards your table, one with dark curls and a strut, and the other, a blonde, softer but still insistent with his pace.

You assume they’re fans. Supporters of the Duncanator, probably. It’s fine. It happens, especially after a match. Sometimes it gets annoying, but it’s fine. You should be proud of her, really. You should be happy to play photographer, if it means they’ll take the damn picture and leave the two of you alone. But the familiar feeling lurches in your chest. It’s fine. It’s fine.

“Tashi—”

“Hey—”

They start at the same time, gawking at Tashi with the typical, captivated look that most boys give her.

“I don’t know if you remember us?”

“Fire and ice.” Tashi nods, giving a short smile.

Oh. Not just fans, then.

Groupies?

You give a subtle look towards Tashi with your eyes, who returns a slight tilt of her head.

“This is Patrick and Art.” She explains. “I met them at the US open last year.”

Ah. Tennis players.

You look back up at them, and the taller one— Patrick— meets your gaze. He’s handsome, annoyingly so, with his curly dark hair ruffled like he’s been constantly running his hands through them. He wears confidence like a jacket and gives you a look over, eventually landing on a smile like you’re nothing worth worrying about.

The other boy— Art— is more vague with himself. Blonde, pale, sharp— eyes flickering over to you with a gentle curiosity— or maybe he’s just wary. The dingy lighting subdues certain angles of his face but it’s not enough to hide the slight clench of his jaw. It soon morphs into a sweet smile that catches you off guard, like he’s never sized you up at all.

Patrick swings first. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”

Tashi smiles. “Girlfriend, actually.”

“Girlfriend?”

They look surprised and you try not to be offended— it’s not like you and Tashi’s relationship is very public. Still, petty pride pricks in your chest, and you meet their shock with a smug little grin.

“We’re actually on a celebratory date, so…” The words roll off your tongue and it gives you a surge of confidence, holding Tashi’s hand from across the table.

“Right.” Art fidgets, like he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. “Congratulations on your win, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

They stand around for a little while, waiting for something that Tashi refuses to acknowledge. Eventually, they mutter their goodbyes and leave you to yourselves. There’s a moment of silence as you pick apart the dark feeling curling in your chest.

“Fire and ice?” You hum.

“Their tennis nickname.”

You snort. “Lame.”

You pretend you’re not bothered by the whole interaction, stirring your milkshake, watching the swirl of cream and melted ice cream spin into a mixture of some off-white liquid. You take a sip. It’s warm. Tashi doesn’t miss the way you grimace at the room temperature liquid, focusing on anything but her face.

“Are you jealous?”

You shake your head no. Tashi raises an eyebrow.

You shrug. “Did you sleep with them?”

“No.”

You squint. “But you did something with them.”

Tashi’s quiet for a second, fiddling with the wilting paper straw. “I was invited to their hotel room, and we… got a little drunk.”

Your brain already runs to the worst image— Tashi in some hotel room, bubbly with post-match adrenaline, laughing into Patrick’s neck, touching Art’s hair— all sweat and teenage hormones. You kind of want to throw your milkshake at the wall.

“A handjob? A blowjob?” You lower your voice, leaning across the table. “Did they eat you out?”

“Relax. We kissed. That’s all.” Tashi pushes your head back with one finger, right to your forehead. “You are jealous.”

You sigh dramatically, slumping against your seat. “Why would I be? It’s not like they’re tall, muscular, and super hot.”

“Don’t be jealous.” Tashi steals a wimp fry from your plate, letting the words drag a bit. “They were pretty gay, actually.”

“Not gay enough.” You huff.

You watch as Tashi dusts the salt and greases off her fingers. Fingers that would have touched them. Maybe traced the line down Art’s jaw, or tugged Patrick by his collar. You conjure them up too easily— stomach twisting in an ugly, involuntary way.

Whatever. Tashi is yours. You’ll stop thinking about them eventually.

You’re still thinking about them.

You were thinking about them in the taxi, staring out the window while Tashi tapped through her texts, one leg casually thrown over yours. You were thinking about them in the elevator, when she leaned over to kiss your cheek— too distracted to kiss back properly. You were thinking about them in the hallway, in the room— and you’re still thinking about them when Tashi steps out of the shower, bathrobe loosely tied around her waist. She picks up her phone on the table, scrolling at something while you mope around the room.

“I was thinking we could go early tomorrow, beat the rush at security. We can get breakfast at the terminal.”

“Can you just show me what you did with them?”

Silence.

You swallow. “Please?”

Tashi breathes in your words, eyes locked on yours. You were never good at asking for things. Especially not things like this— like sex. You’ve always been quiet about it. A little unsure. So it amuses her to see such bravery in your words, which shrinks, just a little, under her gaze.

You’re aware of how pathetic this is. Asking your girlfriend to show you what she did with some boys— but the image stays with you. You can’t help it. Not when they understand Tashi’s world. Tennis. They knew what her win today meant. You were just lucky to be there.

Tashi sighs. She drops her phone onto the table. Then, slowly, she takes off her robe, revealing the silk nightgown underneath, green and short, skimming high on her thighs. Your gaze is fixed on her as she walks to the bed, sitting down at the edge of it.

“Come here.” She taps on the spot next to her.

You obey, mattress dipping beneath your weight.

Tashi watches you adjust yourself, knees bent, hands fidgeting in your hands like you’re waiting for instructions. One word and you’d do anything.

So she leans in. She guides the kiss, messy, clinging— all teeth and lips and way too sweet to your liking. You try to focus, but your mind conjures up the boys again. Knowing this is what she was doing to them before she met you, you instinctively reach for her waist, pulling her closer.

But Tashi pulls away.

“That’s it. They didn’t even touch me.” She holds your face. “I watched them make out for a bit, and then I left.”

You’re silent, expecting the jealousy will boil down with her words. But it doesn’t.

So you put your lips against hers again, tongue swirling like you’re searching for residue— as if your mouth can overwrite whatever history she has of them. And Tashi lets you kiss her, lets your hands caress her bare skin— and if she notices your tremor, she does not say anything.

You press kisses down from her neck to her chest, putting just the right amount of pressure to avoid any marks. No one likes the marks. It’s clumsy, excessively eager at first.

Your fingers pull on the straps of her nightgown, letting the top fall to her waist. Tashi exhales, feeling the cool air tickle her exposed form. You never initiate like this. Tashi’s the one who leads. You follow. You always have.

“You’re being insane,” she whispers, eyes heavy-lidded. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t care.” You don’t mean for it to come out so small, broken. “I don’t care, I just— I keep thinking about them. About you with them and not me.”

“Don’t be—”

“Stupid, I know.” You smile. “I’m sorry.”

Tashi watches you for a moment, then she shifts— positioning herself to the middle of the bed, arms falling loose at her sides in a kind of surrender. Like she’s allowing you to have her.

You follow her, landing on your knees, desperate as if she might change her mind. You reach for her and she meets your warmth, two bodies melding together. You’re nothing but earnest— unrestrained hunger in your kisses— and Tashi handles it with amusement, translating all your fervor into the way she touches you back.

“Let me—” you whine against her jaw, clinging to her— “Let me eat you out.”

She laughs in response.

“Please?” Your hand snakes under the silk, finding the waistband of her underwear and tugging on it. “I’ll be good. I’ll make it good.”

Tashi’s lips quirk up on one side, shaking her head— you shouldn’t be so jealous. You shouldn’t have to beg. All she has to do is say a couple words. Let you remember that you already have her.

But because she’s amused, because you’re so pretty like this, she bites her tongue and spreads her legs open, giving you space to lay on your stomach. You immediately press your face between her thighs, impatient—

You’re so fucking pathetic and you don’t even care.

Tashi pushes her gown up to her hips, your face just below the thin fabric of her underwear— sheer, damp, clinging to her shape. You let your mouth hang open, licking her with the slightest pressure. There’s a sharp inhale from Tashi, along with a tiny jerk of her hips, so you do it again, tongue tracing whatever you can reach through the cloth.

Your nose nudges against the silk sticking to her, wet enough that you can feel her warmth through it. You taste the salt-sweetness against your tongue, breathing her in and losing yourself— and Tashi watches you, starving thing, palming the back of your hand with one hand.

“Is this what you needed, baby?” Her nails scratch slow lines on your scalp— rewarding you. “Needed to prove you could make me feel good?”

You whimper in response, pressing closer, mouthing at her through the fabric. Tashi lets it happen for a bit, humming like she’s watching a pet too eager to sit still. But you’re growing more frantic, and she feels it in your hands tightening on her thighs.

“Just— take them off,” she orders, lifting her hips just enough to help you.

You obey, tugging down her underwear, clumsy with just how badly you want her. You toss the panties aside without looking, eyes completely fixed on her bare form. You lean in again, settling small, wet kisses, then longer licks, adding flat, full pressure with your tongue. Tashi responds with a satisfied moan, fingers tangling up in your hair. She’s hot against you, thighs tense and twitching around your head.

You move one hand down, teasing along her entrance, fingertips gathering slick. Tashi bucks into the weak touches, legs tensing tighter like she wants you to trap you there. You circle once, twice, then gently push in, just two fingers at the edge.

“Oh my god,” Tashi chokes, all breath and tears.

The wet warmth against your flesh sends a rush of heat flooding down your stomach— she’s so gorgeous like this, slowly falling back into the sheets, lean arms failing her. You don’t stop lapping at her clit, as you move your fingers in, just a little, feeling her stretch around you— and she curses, hands fisting into the sheets above her.

You keep pressing, nose brushing her as you get more serious, hopelessly uncoordinated but dedicated. It's all starved mouth on soaked skin, messy, practically a worship— tasting her like maybe if you do it right, she’ll forget every other mouth that’s ever been on her.

And as cruel as it may be, Tashi indulges in it.

She knows you could get jealous— sees the way you try to conceal it too, with your tight smile and fidgeting hands, all while glaring at the fans crowding over the Duncanator. It’s obvious how much it eats at you from the inside even within your silence. She knew it’d overflow someday— rabid with your need to belong to her. You’d stay here forever if she told you to.

“Look at you right now,” Tashi groans, words choked up in her throat. “Doing— ah— so good for— me.”

The praise feeds you and you relish it, responding with a proud hum. It vibrates through her and she ruts against your mouth, wanting more, needing more— but she’s never the one to beg. And you’re never the one to make her wait.

You start to thrust your fingers, slow at first, watching the way she adjusts to the length. How her muscles quiver, how her lips open and close like she wants to tell you to go faster— but doesn’t. She swallows her words, letting you choose the pace. You curl your fingers to hit a spot, drawing a noise out of her— and her mouth stays open, breath stuttering with your every movement.

“Yeah, just like that,” Tashi pants. “Fuck— don’t stop. That’s my girl.”

Your chest tightens, heat spreading across your body from your spine. She sees it— the way your rhythm stutters with her praise. Of course she does.

“Mouth— fucking perfect,” she continues, rolling her hips to meet each thrust. “Keep going. Show me who I belong to.”

You groan at her words, speeding up, harder— she’s yours. She belongs to you. She’s letting you have her, letting you ruin her— and for someone like her, someone who’s so used to being in control with her presence itself— it’s the loudest form of the love she knows how to give.

And you take it like a dog, pumping into her as deep as you can, as fast as you can. You don’t even remember when you started grinding against the mattress, shamelessly brushing against the parts that begs for friction.

“I’m close. I’m so fucking close,” Tashi gasps, pressing your closer, holding you in place exactly where she wants you. “You want me to come on your face?”

Stupid, stupid question. You nod frantically against her skin, words turning into whines. Tashi laughs.

The laughter soon morphs into moans, filthy and loud, filling the entirety of the room. She repeats your name, over and over again, like she wants to prove that’s the only thing she cares about, the only thing she knows— and you let her soak your face, your cheeks— hips barely controlled, as if she can’t help herself anymore.

Tashi is fully on her back when she comes, hips bucking as you drag your tongue through her orgasm. Her body jerks through her orgasm, hands gripping the sheets. You don’t stop, finger stroking her through it even when she’s sensitive, choking on incoherent half-pleas for you to slow down.

“Okay, stop— god, (Y/N)—” Her voice cracks, finally forcing herself up to grab your jaw, tilting your head up. “Practice. Tomorrow. I can’t go again.”

You pout, slowing down and peppering kisses, like you’re thanking her for her orgasm. She collapses onto the sheets, letting out a fulfilled sigh and you lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling, lips swollen, chin glistening. Tashi pulls her gown back up and you melt into her side, hugging her closer.

“Still jealous?”

“Hm.” You bury your face in her neck, breath hot against her skin. “I feel better.”

“Well, you just made me forget about everyone except you.” she murmurs. “You’re my girl, yeah?”

You nod without thinking, too fast, and she just laughs again, wrecked and warm.

“You didn’t come, did you?”

You swallow. “No.”

You sit with it for a while, fidgeting against her side. Tashi catches the way your thighs squirm between hers. Eventually, she moves, just a little, letting her hand trail down your stomach, down between your thighs— finding you embarrassingly wet. But your humiliation has never existed, tamed by a throbbing sensation that builds from your core. You lean into her touch— you need her to keep touching you, need her busy. If this slows down, if either of you have time to think, you’d lose the thin, fragile thread holding it all together.

Maybe you don’t feel better after all.

You lurch up to kiss her lips, smothering the awful swell of thoughts rising in your throat. Tashi kisses you back, slow, meeting your desperation without one of her own. It only makes you grip onto her harder, breaking apart in her arms like it's in your nature.

Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.

You come anyway.

Note: Sex as a proving ground for worth... FUCK YEAH !!! I lowkey didn't really know where to take this so it was marinating in my drafts for a while... so enjoy the unedited mess of Tashi Duncan. Happy late lesbian visibility week <3

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