#and it feels good to dig back through my old playlists again

[shivunin]

Songfic Tag Game

Rules: Pick a song to accompany each of your fics or as many as you like. This might be the fic's inspiration or just pure vibes that you'd like to share with readers. Tag as many people as fics you feature (or do as you please!)

Thank you for the tag @greypetrel!! You know I'm a sucker for anything music-related 💗

Lol well I sure have more fics than I remember, so I'll do them until I'm ready to go back to writing/editing the oc kiss things c:

Tagging back @idolsgf @nightwardenminthara @inquisimer @dreadfutures @bitchesofostwick @vakarians-babe @jtownnn @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @star--nymph @zenstrike

Your Fate For Mine: (Elowen decides to sacrifice herself instead of allowing Hawke or Stroud die in the Fade; her friends try to find and bring her back) Anywhere On This Road by Lhasa De Sela

Wander the Drifting Roads: (After a horrible accident, Emmaera loses her Commander and lover in one stroke of a knife. Separated, the two of them must relearn who they are and where their paths lead) Mausoleum by Rafferty or Remember Us by Gabriel Royal or Flowers from Hadestown

Between Strokes of Night: (Hawke and Fenris's first night after deciding to be together again) Awake at Night by half alive

Saccharine: (Arianwen gives in to emotion for the first time in her life and takes Zevran to bed) Saccharine by Jazmin Bean or Kiss Me You Animal by Burn the Ballroom

To the Bone: (Soulmate AU! The last person Salshira intends to seek out is the one on the other side of the flame brand at her jaw. Love is, after all, one of the most dangerous things a person can do. Luck--or fate--drags her to the Inquisition anyway) Die Young by Sylvan Esso or All I've Ever Known from Hadestown

Scattered Stars: (Fenhawke anthology fic--this is where all my Tumblr fics go when they've been edited and expanded upon c:) Right on Time by Brandi Carlile or Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

Palimpsest: (Fenris's perspective of the events leading up to the romance scene in Act II) That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil or Peregrine by Mako

Tempered: (The Inquisitor learns of a death in the family and tries to manage her grief) Good Grief by Dessa

In Any Life: (Fenris leaves for Tevinter; he and Hawke try to write to each other, but their letters have gone astray) Siuil a Ruin by Anuna or Francesca by Hozier

The Scourge of Sundermount: (A monster lives in the mountains outside of Kirkwall. What fate is there for a monster but a knight with a blade sent to kill it?) Leviathan, the Girl by Phemiec or The Killing Moon by Echo & The Bunnymen or Strangelove by Black Math

Misericordia: (An elaboration on the scene where Cullen explains lyrium addiction to the Inquisitor) The Myth by San Fermin or Nothing Fades Like the Light by Orville Peck

As Two Reflected Stars: (Hawke and Fenris's developing relationship, as traced by the healing of wounds) I Know You Know by Charming Disaster or Arms by San Fermin or Anybody Else by The Ballroom Thieves

Book of Memories: (Sequel of sorts to Wander; moments in Emma and Cullen's relationships, each carefully noted in a single book for later reference) You and Me On the Rock by Brandi Carlile or Photograph by Cody Fry

Sleight of Hand: (Hawke is a stage magician. She's asked very few questions about her surly assistant, which has worked just fine for both of them--until his past comes calling) Enchante by Dirt Poor Robins or The Magic by Lola Blanc

[innocent-artery]

Two Doors Down

2.5k words

Summary: Your vibrator dies mid-session, so your roommate offers to help you out.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While listening, I recommend listening to enemies to lovers, a spotify playlist by me!

~

"God fucking damn it!"

Your frustrated curse echoed off the walls of your bedroom, followed by a dull thump of your vibrator falling on the mattress. You sat up begrudgingly and flopped over the bed, reaching for the charger and plugging in the toy.

You huffed, sitting on the bed for a few moments before tugging your shorts back on and standing, leaving your bedroom to go explore the great unknown: your apartment.

The sound of the television was more audible when your door opened, the white and blue lights from the TV tinting the entire living room and kitchen area in a cold glow. While your eyes needed a second to adjust to the change from the dim, warm light of your room, Bucky, your roommate, was staring blankly at the television, listening to the newscaster droning on while sifting through a bowl of cereal with a spoon.

You didn't greet him, despite the tiny alarm in your head telling you it was bad manners. You stomped past him, headed for the fridge to find leftover pasta. Once a bowl was heated up, you stomped around over to the couch, flopping down beside him.

Bucky raised a brow. "You doin' alright?" He asked through a mouthful of cereal.

"Yeah."

"Then stop stabbing your pasta."

You looked down to see your fork digging into the bottom of the bowl, spearing through the noodles with more aggression than was necessary.

"I'm fine."

"Wanna tell me?"

Your mind raced just at the thought of his suggestion. "No. Nothing's wrong."

"Ah." He turned back to the television, one leg crossing over the other. "Thought it might have somethin' to do with your vibrator dying on you."

You nearly choked, head whipping around to watch him incredulously. "How-"

"TV ain't on that loud." He snorted.

You buried your face in your palms, cheeks warm. Bucky only laughed at your mortification.

"Hey, it's all good." Bucky waved a hand in dismissal, you caught it as you lifted your head. Your gaze somehow got stuck on it, specifically, his fingers. The thought of them on you made the heat in between your legs flare up again. You could practically feel them tilting your chin up, tugging your hips closer, prodding into your cunt...

Bucky seemed to notice your sudden interest, looking between your eyes to his hand and back with curiosity. He let out a soft 'ah', a grin of delight splitting his face. When you finally clocked in on his understanding, silent but knowing, you looked down in what was definitely the least subtle way possible.

"Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I can't remember a time when hands didn't get the job done."

That didn't help your embarrassment, and for some reason you continued the conversation. "Well, I can't get the right angle..."

Bucky exhaled, passing his tongue over his teeth. "Tell me to shut up if I've got the wrong idea. But I have hands." You peeked out from your hands. He wiggled his metal fingers slowly as if to prove the obvious. "I think you've noticed."

All of the thoughts you'd wrestled with moments ago came flooding in again. Sparks of excitement shot down your belly, and you swore your heartrate doubled.

You attempted to keep an even voice, but nonchalance definitely escaped you for the timebeing. "So... what's your point?"

You were terrified you might have misread the situation. That this excitement would die down and you'd be left wanting him. You needed him to tell you.

"My point is," Bucky uncrossed his legs, turning to face you and leaning forward. "That I'm offering to do what your vibrator can't."

You were shivering with excitement, voice shaking as you sighed,

"Please."

Bucky stood slowly, pushing off of the couch with his hands. His gaze was fixated on you, bordering on ravenous as he eyed you up and down. He relished the way your eyes followed his, and as a result, when he finally towered over you, he was met with a sight that made his cock throb.

You could feel your head turning cloudy, anticipation bubbling in your stomach as you peered up at Bucky. A single, metal hand came up to your chin, stroking slowly over the bone. Your eyes fluttered, leaning into his touch.

"Poor thing." Bucky tutted, shaking your head side to side a bit. "So pitiful. Can't even get off right, needs a toy to get the job done."

You whimpered when he used his grip on your jaw to make you nod yes.

"Shh, you're okay. 'M right here, gonna take good care of you. Yeah?"

"Yeah," you replied weakly.

"Good." Bucky let go of your face, opting to sit on the couch instead, legs spread wide. He patted one of his thighs, gesturing with the other. "C'mon, take a seat."

You crawled over him, hands resting on his shoulders tentatively. Bucky traced a finger up the column of your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. The pressure on the underside of your jaw brought your gaze upwards.

"Gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, dove, think y'can do that?"

You nodded slowly, itching to move but frozen in place by his attention.

"Good." Bucky's hand was a whisper around your throat, quickly finding its home again on your jaw. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, to which your mouth fell open oh so slightly.

His lips quirked in amusement. His thumb pressed down, earning your jaw lowering further. Two fingers slipped past your lips to settle on your tongue and you happily took them, one hand coming to hold his wrist in place while you suckled.

His free hand began rising up your hips, and you straightened your posture at the feeling, almost tickling. They descended just after his thumb grazed your lower chest. You gasped around his fingers, and his subtle raise of brow made your cheeks heat.

You squeezed his wrist, and it moved from your mouth to your waist. Hands reaching for the back of his neck, you tugged him forward into a sloppy kiss.

Bucky wasn't sure where the line was before. He understood that he had struck a purely sexual deal offer, so kissing for some might be too intimate an exchange under those circumstances, but Christ did he love the feel of your mouth on his. The clash of teeth and spit, your soft moans swallowed up into his own mouth sounding like heaven. Even more so when he sucked on your tongue, pride coursing through his veins when you squeaked.

And oh, you just couldn't help it, when you started rocking your hips back and forth. It was his fault really, teasing you so much.

"So fuckin' needy, angel, just can't wait, huh?" Bucky groaned, head falling back for a minute before jerking back up. "Need to get you taken care of, isn't that right?"

You nodded pathetically, brain long turned to mush. Your senses, every atom in your body was on fire and so, so sensitive, but your head was empty.

And Bucky knew it.

Which is why he lifted you up, strong hands supporting you under the thighs, which wrapped around his torso to keep you up. Bucky groaned, the feel of your legs around his waist sending blood rushing to his cock.

It was a messy trip to your room, to say the least. Bucky had to stop multiple times in the hallway to press you up against the wall and stick his tongue in your throat, rutting into you and breathing heavy into your mouth. His groans were pure sin and you wanted to pull as many of them from him as you could.

Bucky set you down gently, but as you laid, he remained, towering over you with hungry eyes and bated breath.

"Look at you," Bucky grazed his metal fingers over your cheek. "So fuckin' needy, hm? So desperate, you just hop on the first dick you see."

His words didn't even register, not when his leg was pressed right between your legs, so you nodded along dumbly.

He chuckled, almost a bark of a laugh. "Lucky I'm here to take care of you, hm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, your feeble grip on his shirt attempting to tug him closer. "Please, Bucky, need you to take care of me, please..."

"Alright, alright, I've gotcha." Bucky leaned in, pressing wet kisses to your neck whilst his fingers slipped under your shirt, grazing feather-light over your nipples. You could feel him smirk when you arched into his touch.

"Can we take this off, baby?" His voice was soft, and you nodded, pulling your hands up so he could bare your chest.

Bucky gave a groan at the sight, his mouth traveling downward to press licks and kisses over your chest. He pressed his palm over your ribs, indicating you to lie back. Bucky followed, propped up on his arm. His other hand walked up the inside of your thigh, making you shudder into him.

"Buck, please," you breathed, eyes rolling back.

"Nuh uh, none of that." Bucky's hand was quick to reach up and grasp your jaw, this time with more force. "Eyes on me."

He nodded your head for you. He maintained a more intense stare as he moved, slowly and deliberately, down between your thighs. He watched you as he kissed up and down your thighs, pressed his thumb into the junction between your cunt and your leg, pressed a firm kiss to the area just above your clit. Your hips jerked up, following his touch.

"I know, I know. Bein' so patient, so proud of you." Bucky purred, tugging your bottoms down in one go. "And would you look at that, no underwear. God, you're soaked."

Bucky actually moaned at the sight, like the idea of going down on you was pleasurable for him. And Lord, was it.

He started with, for lack of better word, toying with you, thumbs pulling your lips apart to watch your slick web from them. Even though he wasn't watching your face anymore, your eyes were glued to him. His fascinated expression, his strong arms holding your legs apart, his toned back rippling under every movement- somewhere along the line he had lost the shirt; you couldn't remember when but Christ was it better he did.

You nearly levitated off the bed when a finger came to collect your slick onto your clit, followed by lips attaching to the nerves and tonguing over it lasciviously.

Your hesitancy to make noise had gone out the window the minute his mouth was on you, jaw falling open to let out your sounds of bliss. The only thing keeping your head from falling back was the sight in front of you; Bucky was pure sex incarnate. His head swayed back and forth, groans and muffled praises vibrating against your skin, hair tickling your thighs.

"Taste so damn good angel, so fuckin' wet." Bucky tugged you impossibly closer- you swore you saw his hips moving into the sheets. "Should let your vibrator die more often."

Your breath had all but escaped you, coming out ragged and whiny. Your hands reached for his hair, tugging at the roots softly- harder when he groaned louder, sending both of you into a frenzy.

"Fuck, Bucky, right there, fuckfuckfuck-" your noises, if even possible, got louder when the man under you found just the right spot to prod his finger. It slipped in so easily, the wetness helping you welcome him in.

It didn't take Bucky long to figure out where that spot was inside of you, pulling moan after gasp after cry of his name once he bullied his fingers into it just right. He repeated the motion until there was a sheen of sweat on your forehead, grasping onto his hair, his arm, whatever of him you could find as if he was your lifeline.

"Oh, just like that, so close Buck..." You kicked your hips up into his face, rolling them for any kind of friction you could get- friction he was elated to give you.

You nearly sobbed when he pulled his face away from you, fingers leaving your pussy feeling unbearably empty.

"I know, honey, I know. Gonna give you something even better, hm? Gonna give you my cock, fill y'up real nice."

You almost drooled at the sight of Bucky sat up, nothing but sweats being hastily pulled down until the bulge fell heavily over the band. He kicked his bottoms away to some forgotten corner, stroking himself languidly a few times, kicking his head back.

You whined a bit at the lack of attention, thighs pressing together. That seemed to have alerted Bucky, as he tilted his head back down to face you. "Sorry, sunshine. Won't keep you waitin' any longer, yeah?"

Bucky lined himself up with you, teasing your sopping entrance with the tip. However, when your legs hooked around his waist, just like before, all notions of control were lost on him as he sheathed himself inside of you. A guttural groan, more sensual and more animalistic than before, ripped through him and sent sparks shooting into you. He stretched you deliciously, the friction electrifying.

"Don't fuckin' clench, holy shit- not gonna last long," Bucky huffed, rocking slowly into you. He was leaned over your body, almost folding you in half so that he could mutter filthy praises into your ear, tonguing at the shell of it lightly.

If he wasn't gonna last, what could be said of you? Your orgasm was approaching fast, if your throbbing cunt and frantic moans were any indication.

"There we go, y'gonna cum? Fuckin' cum for me, honey, make a mess on my cock, go on."

White-hot pleasure drowned you as you scratched faint pink lines down Bucky's chest. This time your eyes screwed shut, but Bucky chose instead to help you ride out your high, pistoning into you until he let himself go, filling you up in a way that left you feeling warm and full and very, very satisfied.

Only the sound of yours and Bucky's panting could be heard in the room, the air suddenly thick and musky with the smell of sex.

After a moment, he pulls out, murmuring 'shit' to himself a few times. "Gonna get you cleaned up, 'kay?" Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple, picking his boxers up on the way to his ensuite bathroom and coming back with a rag a minute later.

"Feeling alright?" Bucky asks. "Didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, you were great." You huffed, a stupid hazy grin tugging your lips. "Bit thirsty, that's about it."

"Noted," he mused. "I meant it, by the way."

You cocked your head. "Meant what?"

"You should let your vibrator die more often. I'm just two doors down, and I reckon I know a few more tricks than that piece of junk you've got." He gestures to the vibrator, which had fallen onto the floor at some point.

You definitely made sure to keep that in mind.

~

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Return

Batter Up Chapter 7

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: After a month of being away from the game and the girl he loves, Joel Miller is back and ready to play. Warnings: smut, making a sex tape, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, also regular pie, joel miller's dirty mouth, wine. Words: 5,000

A/N: Thank you to my dearest @devineconjuring and her beautiful brain for beta'ing and being my grammar goddess.

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

The crowd chants Joel’s name, lights flicker through the stadium, the ground feels like it’s shaking beneath his feet. He loves this feeling—the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, the loud crowd drowning out every doubt he’s ever felt. After three weeks on the injured list and another week rehabbing in the minors–a month away from the big leagues–Joel Miller is back.

He walks to the plate, digging his heels into the dirt and tapping his bat against the plate as he soaks in the moment. 

“Miller, good to see you back,” the catcher says.

Joel nods, and grunts an acknowledgment back.

His eyes settle on the pitcher, some young phenom throwing 99-mph with almost every pitch. Don’t worry kid, you’ll get old like me.

The first pitch whooshes past him—ball one. 

Ball two.

Strike one.

The pitcher’s keeping it a little outside, Joel inches closer to the plate, squaring up. The pitcher winds up again, Joel takes a deep breath, feeling the vibration of the bat as it connects with the ball. The crack of the bat reverberates through the stadium as the ball soars past the infield, over the outfield, and disappears beyond the right-field fence.

Home run.

The crowd erupts, the celebratory bell tolls as he rounds the bases. His eyes scan the club box above third base, finding you amidst the cheering fans, your arms raised high, that smile of yours lighting up his heart.

Joel Miller is back, doing what he loves, and now in front of the woman he loves.

__

You’re so proud of him. You wipe the tears from your eyes as Joel’s feet touch home base. His recovery wasn’t easy. Every week away from the game for someone as old as him means double the work versus a young kid just in the game. Forty year olds aren’t known for being pro athletes. 

With the long Labor Day weekend, you were able to take time off from work and travel by train to Philadelphia to witness Joel's celebrated comeback, which had turned into a legend after his grand slam. Suddenly, all of your worries are lifted away. The stress of telling your families that you're a couple, your demanding job as a column writer at Sporting Digest that revolves around the ebb and flow of games, trades, and record breaking moments–none of it matters now.

Your responsibilities at work have been stacking up over the past few weeks. Churning out articles on everything from college football predictions to analyses of NBA draft picks. When you were hired you agreed to not cover baseball, what with the conflict of interest and all. Now, you dream of the headlines you could write about your boyfriend’s triumphant return. 

You’ve barely been able to leave your laptop. Last week, you spent three days shadowing a tennis star at the US Open, scribbling notes on her training and the pressure of being labeled the “next big thing.” You’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone do laundry, go grocery shopping, and, most importantly, be there for Joel. You put in countless hours of work to make this long weekend possible, just so you could witness his big comeback firsthand. 

“Heck of a player that Miller is,” you hear the TV in the corner say. “He sure knows how to show everyone he’s still got it, doesn’t he?” 

You clutch his number dangling from your neck, you’re so proud of him, always proving everybody wrong. Well worth every sacrifice. 

__

The Liberties win, 4-0, all thanks to Joel’s grand slam in the first inning. Sports radio is going to have a field day with this. 

You make your way down to the stadium’s corridors, where staff rush around with more important tasks than yours. 

The Liberties clubhouse sits just ahead of you, the two large blue doors stay closed to onlookers. You rest your back against the cold cinder block wall and send Joel a text, telling him to take his time.

A year ago, you never could’ve imagined this. Joel Miller—rugged, no-nonsense baseball star, the man who occupied your teenage dreams—now your boyfriend. The man who keeps your favorite pasta sauce in his pantry. The man who goes mattress shopping with you. It feels surreal, yet so real at the same time.

Every time that damn blue door opens your heart skips a beat, hoping you’ll find Joel walking out. False alarm after false alarm. 

Until…

Joel emerges, hair slicked back, wearing a gray Liberties shirt, khaki pants, and those cheesy white New Balance sneakers you tease him relentlessly about. Joel, you’re way too rich to be wearing these damn ragged shoes. 

“Hi baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pushing you further against the wall. 

“Hi,” you breathlessly respond, smelling the body wash on his skin. Damn, he showered. “Good game.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

You can’t help but smile at how happy he is, back where he belongs, doing what he loves.

“Come on,” he says, pulling you close. “Let’s go celebrate.” His arm stays around your waist as he leads you through the corridors to his car.

It’s so freeing now, being able to cheer for—and love—Joel out in the open, for all eyes to see.

__

“You know you made me cry today, right?” you say, reaching for his hand resting on your thigh.

“I did, huh?” he replies with a smirk on his face.

He always looks so confident as he drives. Philly’s narrow streets, filled with potholes and pedestrians, are nothing like Austin’s, but he navigates them as effortlessly as he does everything else—injuries, tough teammates, media storms. He handles it all like he handles a fastball: with ease.

“Yeah, I’m really proud of you,” you tell him softly, grabbing his hand harder. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m just so happy to be here for you.”

He smiles that quiet Joel smile. “That’s how I feel watching you handle everything too.”

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, noticing you're not on the route to his apartment. “I hope I’m dressed okay,” you say, looking down at your simple red gingham dress. 

"It’s a surprise. You’ll be fine, you look beautiful baby," he says.

The car winds through the city. You glance over, watching the city lights flicker across his face as the car turns off the main road, slipping into a quieter neighborhood.

The car pulls up to a small, unassuming brick building tucked away on a quiet side street. No flashy sign, no valet—just a discreet, vintage lantern hangs above the door. It’s definitely a place Joel prefers. 

He turns off the car and turns to you, his hand still resting on your thigh. “Thought we’d keep it low-key,” his deep voice rumbles in the quiet of the car.

You nod, your smile widening. “Perfect.”

He steps out of the car and, ever the gentleman, comes around to open your door before guiding you toward the entrance. You wrap your arm around his, leaning into his warmth as he leads you inside.

—

“Mr. Miller, welcome to Vetri Cucina. We’re happy to have you here. Let me show you to your table.”

“Silvio," Joel says with a firm handshake. "Good to see you. Thanks."

Your eyes scan the cozy space. Shiny worn floorboards, warm amber walls, a glistening chandelier that hangs from the low ceiling–you’ve never seen a place like this before. Little did you know that behind the unassuming brick row home exterior there would be a whole functional restaurant. It feels like the perfect mix of a place for the two of you, rustic and intimate.

Silvio leads you both up a narrow staircase to a private room on the second floor. A table for two sits in the center of the room. A red glass chandelier hangs above it, candlelights flickering shadows across the golden walls.. 

“So, we’re still hiding our dinners with each other away from prying eyes?” you tease as Joel pulls the chair out for you and you take a seat.  

“Not exactly,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I just wanted to show off that I can get us a private table at one of the best restaurants in Philly.”

You laugh. “I’m sure there’s a Golden Corral around here.”

Joel chuckles. “Very funny. But trust me—you’ll love it here. They’ve got all the fancy dishes with those French words you like.”

“You know me too well.”

“Better than you think,” he says, his eyes gleaming under the golden light.

—

A waiter approaches, a polished smile on his face. “Good evening, and welcome. My name is Royal, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. We have a special tasting menu prepared just for you, personally selected by our chef. It’ll start with an appetizer, followed by a pasta course, a main, and dessert.” 

Your mouth waters as Royal pours you a glass of wine. 

”Each course will be paired with a wine from our grand collection. Your first course will be out shortly. In the meantime, is there anything else I can bring you?”

Joel shakes his head. “We’re all set, thanks.”

“Wow,” you say once the waiter leaves, glancing around the elegantly set table. “I feel a little underdressed for a tasting menu.”

Joel shrugs. “I have a feeling they won’t care what we’re wearing once I pay the bill. Besides,” he says with a smile, “I like you in that red dress.”

“Atta boy, Texas,” you say, smiling as you sip your wine.

—

After a couple courses of delicious appetizers that you happily eat, but Joel barely touches, the water returns, presenting the main course with a flourish. 

"For your entrée, we have our signature dish: salt-crusted tilapia with a bread salad of parsley and tomatoes, alongside grilled artichokes on a bed of smoked squash puree."

You glance at Joel as the waiter expertly cracks the salt crust, revealing the perfectly cooked fish underneath. You know Joel hates fish and artichokes. The waiter sets down two glasses of white wine and disappears, leaving you both alone with the dish.

"Baby, what are you going to do?" you ask, eyes wide as Joel picks up his fork.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m here to impress you,” he says with determination before spearing a piece of the fish. He takes a bite, his nose crinkling ever so slightly as he chews.

“How is it?” you ask, biting back a smile.

Joel grimaces. “I’ve had better.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Please don’t eat it. I know the only fish you like is fried.”

“Always been more of a Filet O Fish man myself.”

“I don’t think they’ve got tartar sauce here, so please, for me, don’t force yourself.”

He sets down his fork with a relieved sigh, his hand finding yours again. “Anything for you.”

When the waiter returns, he doesn’t comment on Joel’s barely touched plate, but you notice a subtle, appreciative smile as he clears away your empty dish.

“Well,” you say, leaning back, happy and full from dinner. “At least there’s dessert.”

“Never said no to dessert,” he chuckles, before looking you in the eyes with adoration. 

"You know," he begins, his voice low and serious, "I couldn't have done this without you. Coming back after my injury—”

Joel's voice trails off as he searches for the right words. His eyes stare into yours. You squeeze his hand encouragingly, needing to hear more. 

“It wasn’t just physical,” he continues. “It was mental. Wondering if I still had it within me, if I was too old, if it was time for me to hang up my cleats. But you—you never doubted me for a second.”

Tears pool in your eyes as his thumb brushes back and forth against your knuckles. 

"I’ve always been your fan, Joel. I’ll always believe in you.”

He nods, a small smile lighting his face. “I know, and that’s what got me through. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile through tears. 

The waiter approaches with dessert, you silently thank the interruption so you’re not left sobbing in the middle of this beautiful restaurant over how much you love your boyfriend. 

A familiar slice of pie is placed in front of you and Joel.

“Uppercrust?” you excitedly ask, your eyes widening at the large, glazed pecans laying atop the golden crust. 

Joel gives a shy, satisfied nod, his lips curving into that familiar, gentle smile. "Thought we’d end the night with our favorite. Had Sarah overnight it to the restaurant."

“Jooooel,” you breathe out, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. You stare at the pie, stunned by how deeply he cares for you.

“All for you baby,” he says softly as he lifts his fork and cheers with a playful smile. “Cheers to Austin and that hotel bar.”

You laugh, grabbing your own fork and tapping it against his. “Cheers,” you whisper, trying to steady your voice. 

“Oh my god,” you moan around the fork at the first taste of sweet pie. “I can’t believe you got this. You’re too good to me.”

He barks a laugh. “Baby, this is nothing, I owe you so much.” 

The pie is sweet, but your boyfriend is sweeter. 

The sweet wine served with the pie warms your body, Joel’s smile from across the table warms you even more. You sneakily slip your foot out of its sandal, and run it up his leg, making your way up to his crotch. He jumps in surprise, his eyes leer at you as he takes a sip of wine. Your foot finds its target, against the soft fabric of his pants, thankful for the white tablecloth that hangs from the table. He places a hand on your foot, pushing it closer to his crotch. You giggle as your toes wiggle back and forth, teasing him. 

“So, what’s next?” you ask, with a mischievous grin.

"Well, after we finish dinner, I'll pay the bill, grab some leftover pie for later...and then take you home and fuck you," he responds confidently.

A small hmph escapes your lips at the promise. “Is that so?”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replies, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leans in close, his voice lowering to a secretive whisper. “Just think about it—my place, those fancy sheets of mine you love so much…”

His hand wraps around your foot, pressing it harder against him. 

“Now you’re just making me impatient,” you tease. 

—-

The plates are cleared, the leftover pie is boxed up, Joel settles the bill and rises from his seat, extending his hand to help you up. 

Your fingers lace together as you step out into the warm summer night. Joel leads you to his car, unlocking it and opening the door for you. You lean over and seal your mouth over his, relishing in being able to kiss him out in the open. You pull away and give him a smirk before getting in and sliding across the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation for the next stop—Joel’s apartment. 

Your time together has been precious and few. Your career keeps you north in New York, Joel’s training and rehabilitation game have kept him busy and all over the states. But now, you finally have three nights together—the most time you've had since his injury a month ago. 

He glances over at you and winks before he adjusts the rearview mirror. You miss his truck back in Austin, the front bench seat allowing you to slide over and cuddle him close. You curse the existence of the center console. 

“Buckle up, baby,” he says with a grin. Your heart races at the double entendre. 

—-

Taking the elevator up to Joel's penthouse brings back memories of that first night together, when you couldn't believe how handsome he looked in that golden elevator at the hotel, not believing you were about to sleep with Joel Miller. Now, his body presses against yours as you lean on him, his head nestled in the crook of your neck as he leaves sweet kisses down your skin to the matching pendant of his number you wear, leaving a kiss against it before his eyes meet yours. 

“I can’t tell you how much I love seeing this on you, baby,” he says before licking his way up to your mouth, sealing his over yours. He grabs your ass, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders. 

The elevator doors open and he carries you into his penthouse, crowding you against the entryway wall. His mouth moves against yours with fervor, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. You gasp against his mouth, the cool wall chilling your overheated skin. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm and sweet against your lips. “I’ve missed this—missed you.”

He turns and carries you to the living room. The ambient city lights shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows light Joel’s way. He gently sets you down on the couch and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pausing to look into your eyes.

You nod, breathless and eyes wide. “Please,” you whisper. 

He grins, standing back slightly, taking in the sight of you sprawled on his couch, dress askew. “You look so damn good.” 

His hands rest on the hem of your dress and, with a cocky grin, he slowly lifts it up, exposing the soft skin of your thighs. 

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about. Drove to the ballpark thinking about you, stepped up to the plate thinking about you, and, baby,when I saw you in the stands… all I could think about was you naked in my arms.” 

“Joel…” you struggle to find the words, already lust-drunk on his words. 

“I need to taste you.” 

He drops down to his knees in front of you, his large fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding them off.

You bite your lip as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart.

He breathes out a deep sigh at the sight of you. A low whistle leaves his lips. “There she is, she’s so fuckin’ pretty.”

He leans closer and places soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasingly slow, making your heart race even faster.

“Joel…” you plead.

He spreads you wider, warm breath teasing against your core. He licks a long, slow line from bottom to top, humming appreciatively at the first taste of you. 

Your back arches, a gasp escaping your lips. "Oh my God," you breathe.

His rough palms grip your thighs, thick fingers digging into the flesh as he holds you steady. His hot breath tickles your skin as he licks you. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against you, his voice vibrating against your cunt. “Missed this taste.” 

His tongue explores you as your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the soft waves of his dark strands.

Two thick fingers slide inside you, stretching you perfectly. Plush lips close around your clit, sucking and lapping at your sensitive nub.

It's been almost a month since he last touched you like this, and now with his skilled mouth and fingers all over you, your body is ready to let go.

“Joel,” you moan. “C-close.”

He enthusiastically hums against you, deep brown eyes staring into yours from under furrowed brows. His fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. Your pussy pulses against his thick fingers, squeezing them as you bloom under the pleasure of finally feeling his touch. Goosebumps rise all over your skin, cheeks heating, legs trembling, and your eyes tightly shut… and when he curls his fingers upwards inside you, your orgasm crashes into you, your pussy soaking his hand and your voice screaming his name. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and tease you through your orgasm until it's all too much and you're pulling at his hair.

He pulls back with a satisfied smile and kisses your inner thigh before standing and placing a kiss on your lips. You taste yourself as he licks into your mouth. His plush lips sucking against yours. 

Before you can catch your breath, Joel scoops you up in his strong arms, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you into his bedroom. You giggle as he smacks your ass and growls. 

He sets you on the edge of his bed, the crisp white sheets cool against your overheated skin. He steps back, his eyes roaming over your body. 

“Stay right there,” he says as he moves to the closet, rummaging around for a moment before returning with a black camera and tripod in hand. 

Your breath catches at the sight as he sets them up, carefully adjusting the angle. 

The tiny red recording light blinks on and the little screen lights up. There you are, all disheveled—dress hiked up, your lips full and swollen from Joel’s mouth. 

His eyes meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, excitement running through your body. “Yes,” you breathe. 

He grins as he removes his shirt, tossing it to the side before he steps out of his pants. He stays behind the camera, standing in the shadows like a director. “Go ahead baby, take it all off.”

You stand slowly, your heart racing at Joel and the camera’s attention. Dark brown eyes watch you intently from behind the camera, his eyes never leaving your every movement. You reach back and unzip your dress, pulling it down, as you slowly slip the straps off, letting the dress fall to the floor, the red gingham fabric pooling at your feet. 

"God, you're gorgeous,” he whispers.

You reach behind to unclasp your bra, staring at Joel as you let it fall away. Your breasts are exposed to his eyes and the camera, your nipples hardening in the cool air. You’re completely bare now except for the necklace with his number. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," he instructs softly.

You smile, running your hands slowly up your sides, cupping your breasts. Your fingers glide over your nipples, teasing them to stiff peaks before you back up against the bed and lay across it, spreading your legs wide for the camera and Joel. Your hand snakes down your body, across your stomach, down to the apex of your thighs. 

You lock eyes with Joel as you slowly circle your clit, your breath hitching. His gaze is dark from behind the camera, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs as he watches you pleasure yourself. Your fingers dip lower, sliding into your wet heat.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "Show me how you like to be touched."

Your other hand kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple.

Joel steps out from behind the camera, moving to the edge of the bed. He strips off his boxers, his thick cock springing free. He strokes himself slowly as he watches you.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls.

You whimper at his words, your fingers moving faster. "Please, baby,” you whine, “I need you."

He grabs your foot and turns you on the cool, slick sheets. Glancing over at the camera’s small display screen to check the angle of your body.  

He climbs on the bed and you instantly welcome the warmth of his presence and his broad body. He positions himself between your legs, gripping his cock and running the head through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Your breath catches as he slowly pushes inside, a smile lighting your face at finally feeling him inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he bottoms out. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me."

You moan as he starts to move, his hips rolling against yours in a steady rhythm. Your hands glide over the expanse of his shoulders and down his muscular back, relishing in feeling the flex of his strong muscles with each thrust.

He leans down, capturing your lips. His tongue tangles with yours as he picks up the pace, fucking you harder. 

"Look at the camera, baby," Joel murmurs against your neck. "Let's show it how good I make you feel."

You tilt your head, looking directly at the camera lens with heavy-lidded eyes. The knowledge that you are being recorded, that Joel will watch this later, that the two of you will get off while watching yourselves… it’s a new thrill for you. You moan louder, arching your back higher as Joel fucks you. 

"Touch yourself for me," he commands.

Your hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. 

"Oh god, baby," you moan, your fingers working furiously at your clit as he pounds into you. "I'm so close."

Joel's rhythm falters slightly as he watches you touch yourself, sweat glistening on his brow. "That's it. Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Your voice echoes through the room as you cry out Joel’s name, your body trembling as your walls clench tightly around him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “So fucking good, you cum so fucking good for me. So fucking tight.”

He pulls your body towards him, sitting up on the bed, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You take control and ride him, your legs wrapping around his waist as you grind down on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need from me,” he growls.

Your hands tangle in the short waves of his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, bodies glistening with sweat.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his nose bumping against yours. “I love you. God damn baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you moan as he thrusts up into you.  

He captures your lips again. “I’m close,” he groans against your mouth. “Cum with me baby. Give me one more.”

His hand snakes down between your bodies, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing firm circles against it as you bounce on his cock. 

You cry out his name as you orgasm, Joel’s fingers and cock working in tandem to push you over the ledge. You turn your head to the camera, staring into it as you chant Joel’s name while your walls clench around his cock. 

“Oh fuck baby,” Joel groans, his hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum for you.”

In one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he chases his own release. Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles with each thrust.

"Cum for me, Joel, I want to feel you cum inside me."

With a final and deep thrust, Joel stills above you. He groans your name as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He fills you with his release, still gently fucking you with soft thrusts, pushing his seed deeper inside you. 

He leans over and grabs the camera, his cock still plunged deep inside you. With a sly smile, he films your face, capturing the bliss across it.

“Look at you,” he admires, “smiling all sweetly, all drunk on my cock and cum, aren’t you baby?”

You moan a response and nod eagerly. 

He chuckles as he pulls out, shuffling his body down to settle in between your legs. Joel positions the camera between your thighs, spreading them apart and running a finger through your cunt, swollen and slick with his spend pulsating out of you.

“Look at you, leakin’ everywhere,” he groans, collecting himself across his fingers and sticking it inside you. “Can’t have that, now can we?” 

His eyes stay focused on the little screen, watching his fingers pump in and out of your overworked cunt. 

“Fuckin’ filthy baby,” he angles his fingers, your slick squelches loudly across the room. 

Writhing and whining under his touch, your skin is overheated, your pussy radiating heat across your body. 

He pulls his soaked finger out, wiping it across your folds. “Show me how you drip baby, let me see.” 

A gush of his cum leaks out of you, the warm liquid runs down your ass, pooling on the bed. 

“Fucccccccccck,” he growls. “Can’t stop looking at this.” 

He zooms out, capturing your whole body in the frame. 

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he instructs.

“Yours,” you breathlessly respond.

“That’s it baby,” he growls, before his eyes lift from the camera and into yours. “I love you,” he softly says, his eyes rounding in reverence. 

“I love you too.”

He grins, standing up from the bed and switching off the camera before placing it down on the bedside table.

“That was incredible,” you sigh. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

A smile spreads across his face as he leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips. "We'll have to watch it later," he says before heading to the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and gently wipes between your legs, before planting a kiss on your forehead and turning to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” you slur, too blissed out of your mind. 

“To get pie. I’m starving.”

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[swtsupernatural]

D&S W. || NEVER ENOUGH

Dean & Sam Winchester & Winchester! Middle-Sibling! Gender Neutral! Reader

Content Warning Takes place after John's death, no specific episode, just soon after. Swearing, dealing with John's death & grieving, reader throws up once, use of knives and guns, mentions of demons, dean being unable to communicate his feelings

Summary Angst !!! hurt/comfort for reader - Dad died, and all you could think about was how he died not even liking his middle child. You.

W.C. 2.2 k

Ask anon : Could you do something with the Winchester brothers and a Winchester reader? Where the reader is the middle child and is the forgotten one of the family. The reader feels kind of useless compared to Sam and Dean.

Playlist: ♫ I Love You So - The Walters, Better Than Me - The Brobecks, I Know the End - Phoebe Bridgers

A.N. first platonic winchester reader fic ! wrote this sooo fast lol (I think I was projecting even though I'm the oldest child) also I had to include my fav chaotic old man duo in this one...enjoy! - claire <3

Dad was dead. It hadn't been too long since he left, but fuck. He was dead and all you could think of was how much of a shit child you were. You tried your entire life to prove yourself to your dad; but you weren’t Dean; you didn’t follow him blindly, listen to his every order, pick up on hunting skills like it was playing cards. And you weren’t Sam; you weren't booksmart, you didn't have a touch for understanding, and you weren’t as defiant. Yet, it still seems like your whole life that you were your dad’s least favorite. Now you didn’t have Dad, and you felt sick to your stomach that you were almost relieved. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and another one had been placed in your stomach. Your own father had died and you were relieved. No wonder you were the least favorite. 

When you were younger, you’d been more like Sam. Dean was Dad;s pupil, and to you both it didn’t matter who was second because you were both not your older brother. You’d move to a random small town school,get picked on like Sam did, Dean told you he’d beat them up for you, and then you moved again. Every now and then shit would go down and you’d spend some nights at Bobby’s — and it repeated all over again. Then, Sam had graduated highschool and left you and Dean for Stanford. You and Dean never went into upper education, it hadn’t really crossed either of your minds. Sam was 18, you were 20, and Dean was 22. You’d been out of school for a bit, trying desperately to keep up with Dean and Dad, you were just never as good. You didn’t know anything else, and couldn’t see yourself doing well in any other ‘profession,’ if you could even call it that. A couple weeks after Sam left, you were digging through the trash like a damn raccoon looking for a note cliping you’d accidentally thrown away with some crucial information about your current hunt. You found the sticky note, but it had latched onto a thick, white piece of paper. It was a job application. It was Dean’s. You nearly cried, he wanted to be a firefighter. You were so emotional because you know he totally could; he’d be wonderful at it. But he’d never leave the hunting life, especially not after Sam had “abandoned Dad and us,” as he put it. The heat of the fire brought you back to the stupid forest you’d bought Dad’s body to. The fire was warm, but still not comforting in the slightest despite the chipping cold. Your cheeks were pink, and you could feel your eyes starting to water. This was it.

You began walking with your head down in the opposite direction of the Impala. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Dean’s voice was gruff, his own head and heart in turmoil, showing in his wavering voice. He never sounded like that. It was so uncharacteristic and gazing up at their faces made you sick. They were lit up warm from the fire, both of their green eyes shining, frowns and dirt on their faces. You doubled over by a tree, placing your hand on the tough bark as you threw up your breakfast on the dewy grass. You heard Sam sigh, the thick, uncut grass rusting, a hand coming to your back as he pushed the hair from your face. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told you everything. He knew more about your struggle with Dad than Dean did. Sam had always been easier to talk to. That’s why you wanted him to leave.

“Sam,” you whispered after wiping your face, “you need to go back to school, dude.” Sam looked down sheepishly.

“Y/N, cmon, you know I was there on scholarship, I–

“And you were also the best in your program, Sam. Dad’s gone. Go back, go make something of your life, please.”

“And what will you do? Keep hunting?”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I’m not good at anything else, Sam! Hell, I’m not even that good a hunter. I’m half the reason he left to go on that stupid hunt in the first place.”

“Don’t start with that, Y/N.” 

“I know it, you know it, and Dean knows it. Just…I need to be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” Dean’s voice came from your left, walking up at a quick pace with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“You don’t get it.” You whispered, and they just heard your small voice.

“What’s there to get?” Dean huffed, shaking his head.

“Dean, knock it off,” Sam muttered.

“What you don’t get, is that Dad never fucking liked me while like he liked you both. And Sam, don’t act like he resents you for leaving or something. He stayed up sighing and reading all those student aid and college billing bullshit because he knew you could do it. And Dean, he always taught you so much more than me because you actually got hunting like he did and knew what you were doing. I was never good at either. I wish I was the one burning in that fucki—

Dean grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the tree.

“Can you shut up about yourself for two damn seconds when we're at Dad’s funeral? I don’t need you crying about him being a dick when he’s dead. He had funny ways of showing it, but he loved you, Y/N.”

“No he didn’t,” You shoved him off of you, shoving your hands in your coat and huffing out steamy air as you returned to the car. Your brother’s followed you, but you were already lifting the trunk and grabbing your duffle bag. 

“Bye. See ya around.”

“Dean, let them go,” Sam grabbed his arm, stopping his brother from getting to you. “Even I know Dad was always a dick to them.

“C’mon, dude, give ‘em a break, just for now. We’ll call them in a couple days, it’ll be fine.” Dean shook Sam off of him, opening his car door and slamming it aggressively. Sam sighed, getting in the car and watching the black smoke in the rearview mirror flying up into the sky.  __________________________________________

It had been four weeks. Four weeks, two cases solved, 11 missed phone calls from Sam, 6 from Dean, and now you were cornered in a damn demon’s trap. It was 5 against 1, but that didn’t change how useless you felt. You were never as good of a fighter as Sam or Dean, you weren’t as obnoxiously tall or particularly strong. You always felt useless as a child, as a sibling, as a hunter, and as yourself. Of course this would be how you died.

You were at the point of just giving in and calling it quits on your life when a booming BANG rang out. From behind you, two more shots rang out, knives slashing. You didn’t question it, you just acted. You managed to corner the last demon, grabbing his head from behind and shoving your knife in his throat, killing it. You focused your eyes up and saw the last person you were thinking about. But boy, were you glad to see him.

“Bobby?” He crushed you in a big hug, gun in one hand and a first aid bag in the other. 

“Heard’a some weird stuff in this town, deaths and weird figures, figured it was demons. But, when Rufus and I went into the local police office as P.I.s, they said someone with your description already came by,” He grumbled.

“You know how stupid it is to go on a hunt alone when you're young, kid?” Rufus spoke, as his way of greeting you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a half-hug. “That’s why I always drag this old man with me in case shit goes down. So I can throw him in the storm and buy myself some time to run.” Bobby rolled his eyes at Rufus’ sarcastic words, and led you both out of the building.

“Why aren’t you with the boys, Y/N?” You sighed, running a dirty hand through your hair. 

“You uh…heard about Dad?” Bobby stopped the tread to his old car, turning and peered at you with dark eyes. 

“I did. Don’t worry, m’not gonna hit you with all that “I’m sorry, woe is you” crap you hate.” You huffed, smiling at Bobby, “But, I am gonna tell ya you always have a place to stay, kiddo.”

“Thank you.” 

He looked at you expectedly, his head tilting towards you, “...So?”

“I left them after the funeral. I was just…having a hard time, Bobby.” You muttered, sitting in the back seat like a little kid.

“I know, kiddo. How’s about you come to my place and get yourself straight, hm?” You nodded, and Bobby watched you through the rear view mirror hanging above him. Your hair was greasy and the bags under your eyes almost purple. This had been fucking you up a lot.

Bobby got out and opened the trunk, rearranging things while Rufus opened the garage to grab salt, bullets, and gear to restock after your predicament. He tossed you his keys and you caught them with a jingle. You shoved them in the door and finally turned the janky lock, pushing it open. You froze.

Sam and Dean were sitting on the couch. The second you sighed and stepped inside, Dean shot up from his seat rushing towards you, wrapping you in a far too tight hug. He pulled away, his lips in a straight line as he lightly smacked you upside the head.

“You scared the shit out of us, dumbass.”

“Great to see you, too.” 

“Where were you?” 

You shrugged, moving past Dean to Bobby’s cramped, warm, familiar living room.

“I was on the road…hitchhiking, looking into cases, all that.” “I’m gonna refrain from telling you how dangerous that is and opt for a hug,” Sam grumbled as he wrapped his long arms around you. 

“Why are you here?” You asked, settling down on the couch like no time had passed at all since you last saw them. Sam began to speak up, but Dean cut him off and Sam stared at him sternly.

“Cause we couldn’t find you and you weren’t answering us, and Bobby said he found you on a hunt near his place. We got here right before you guys. Y/N you had us fucking worried.”

“I’m sorry. I needed some time alone. I…love you guys. But being around you after Dad, it just reminds me that I’ll never be good enough for him. He’s dead and all I can think about is how he died not even liking me. I’ll never be like either of you.”

Sam laughed; he actually laughed out loud. “Like me? Are we talking about the same people? Cause I see visions of people dying, Y/N. I dropped out of college and can’t do anything right in anyone’s eyes, not just Dad’s.”

“That's not true, Sam…” He sat down next to you on the couch, his knees turned towards you, his eyes dark and watchful. Dean mumbled something about getting you all drinks and disappeared into the kitchen, sensing a touchy conversion he'd rather not be a part of just yet.

“And Dean,” Sam continued, “Dean would rather die than open up to anyone, even either of us, and he can’t function if he’s not drinking, hooking up with some random girl, or drinking. Which is why he’s getting us drinks right now. If anything, you’re the one I’d rather be like. I know Dean would too.” You rolled your eyes pointedly, like Sam was talking nonsense. He moved his head to find your eyes, tilting his head towards you with that face he made that would always stop you from talking. “Y’know, you’re so good at reading us and we didn’t even realise until you were gone. Honestly, Dean and I have never fought that much. And you’re always good at talking with the vics and feds, way better than me or Dean, I–

“Can we end the girly-crap convo now, please?” Dean handed each of you a beer, throwing his back the second he sat down, drinking way too much in one sip.

“Sorry we have feelings, Dean. In case you forgot; most people have those.”

“Yea, yea. Listen,” he turned to you after he groaned, trying to look sincere, well, as sincere as Dean could look. 

“You’re probably the least fucked up one in our freak family, Y/N, so quit it, alright? Sammy and I…we love ya.” He threw his hand that wasn’t clutching his drink up in a surrender. “That good? Can we please drink now and head to our next stop with a hangover in the morning?”

You chuckled, clink-ing your drink with your brothers, and nodding to Dean. He smiled silently, thankful you were back. He hadn’t realized how much you kept the peace and sanity between the three of you. He really missed you. 

“There better be two of those left, idjits,” Bobby grumbled, Rufus on his tail as they went into the kitchen grabbing a bottle each. They sat opposite of you all on the other couch and you held up your bottle. 

“Cheers. To being a weird, fucked up family.”

“Cheers!” Sam gave you a tight lipped, sweet smile. “Cheers to that,” Dean finished the rest of his drink, throwing his head back.

“You kids are gonna kill me,” Bobby muttered.

[batgirlsay]

Expert in a Rocky Field

When the @ans-arcade gift exchange sent me your name, I immediately thought about making you a Lata playlist! Started digging through my old grad school playlists for some academic vibes, then I filled in the blanks with other songs about rocks. It ended up having more songs about the sadness and peril of academia, which I’m sure Lata knows about… I hope you like it, @meefy!

Expert in a Rocky Field

Expert in a Dying Field- The Beths Sisyphus- Andrew Bird Iridium Dream- Louie Zong Lazuli- Beach House Calcite Prism- Louie Zong Oblivion- David Bazan Postdoc Blues- John K. Samson May Their Brilliance Ever Linger- Louie Zong

Summary lyrics are posted after the cut:

Expert in a Dying Field- The Beths

Hours of phrases I've memorized Thousands of lines on the page All of my notes in a desolate pile I haven't touched in an age

How does it feel? To be an expert in a dying field And how do you know? It's over when you can't let go

You can't let go, you can't stop, can't rewind Love is learned over time 'Til you're an expert in a dying field

Sisyphus- Andrew Bird

Sisyphus peered into the mist A stone's throw from the precipice, paused Did he jump or did he fall as he gazed into the maw of the morning mist? Did he raise both fists and say, “To hell with this,” and just let the rock roll?

Let it roll, let it crash down low There's a house down there but I lost it long ago

It's got nothing to do with fate And everything to do with you

Lazuli- Beach House

In the blue Of this life Where it ends In the night Is nothing like lapis lazuli Let it go back to me

Like no other You can't be replaced

Oblivion- David Bazan

Hello again, Oblivion Can you find the frequency While the specters hover whispering

Hello again, Oblivion But it's no good to complain Of fatigue and existential pain

Hold on to what you've got Though it may not be a lot Cause now is not the time for second thoughts

You believe in it Now it's time to follow through You believe in it What does that say about you?

Postdoc Blues- John K. Samson

So your presentation went terrible All wrong dongles, sweat stains and stares

Don’t despair you’ll get it right tomorrow night

I believe in you and your PowerPoints I know why you can’t stay away

So take that laminate out of your wallet and read it And recommit yourself to the healing of the world And to the welfare of all creatures upon it Pursue of practice that will strengthen your heart

[bonesandthebees]

I just came here to say that I love your fanfics, the way you write your characters and their development!

The first of your fics that I read was the on-going QSMP fic "Ready, Set, Detonate" is really good and the way you present the different relationships between characters (Friendship/whatever the morning crew has) is fantastic. I love the post-apocaliptic setting and all the concepts involved. The playlist is cool and I want to see where this time-bomb will go!

After that, I read some of them (Clinic, stars, world forgot, glass, the QSMP one-shots, even the old Pacific Rim AU XD)

And from the finished ones, definitely "Through a glass divine" is the one I loved the most! I was fascinated by the characters and their development; reading non-stop and looking for more! (One of my reasons for my exitement for the re-write, I will pay for read this version)

The end I liked the most was "The World Forgetting by the World forgot", because I feel it the most apropiate way to end that story! I """understand""" why some people didn't like-it, but I feel that this ending was the best way to close the plot

Postscript: Few days ago I read the book "Yumi and the Nightmatre Painter" by Brandon Sanderson and so many parts of the story remembered me to Glass. Is a really good book, that is like if Your Name and Through a glass divine fussioned to create a story! I highly recomend-it.

aw thank you!! I'm so glad you're enjoying ready set detonate. I keep forgetting that fic exists and then I randomly remember it and go on a writing spree for like an hour and then proceed to forget about it again. but I have a lot of fun with that one. tbh it's kind of an excuse for me to be insanely self indulgent and just write all of my fav dynamics from qsmp. morning crew + co. is so fun for me personally

(oh god you even read the pacific rim au? you really went digging huh. that was literally the first ever mcyt au I planned out and started writing how I viewed the characters back then was so different)

I'm so glad you enjoyed glass!! literally was such a trial and a half to write but I loved the world so much and had such a fun time really digging into all the different aspects of it. writing wilbur's character development in that was so satisfying to me

also thrilled to hear you loved world forgetting's ending. definitely the only somewhat 'controversial' ending I have for my fics but I still stand by that it was the right one for the story and I'm glad you think so too

ooooo I looked that book up and it seems really cool! I've put it on my to read list so if I see it at my local library I'll definitely check it out, thank you!

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Do you have any buggy playlist? Or just some songs that you think would suit his vibes?

i'm not much of a playlist builder, i'm afraid! i admire those who can do it, but my brain just doesn’t work that way.

but i have been digging through my music collection for lyrics to use as titles when i post the near miss fics to ao3, and i think that story is gonna end up being all mitski lyric titles, lmao. enough fit well that i thought, i might as well be intentional about this. it’s just a matter of narrowing down my options.

…now, that does mean most of these lyrics give me shuggy vibes, rather than pure buggy vibes, but maybe that’s still relevant to your interests?

and i don’t want your pity i just want somebody near me guess i’m a coward i just want to feel alright […] i’ve been big and small and big and small and big and small again and still nobody wants me still nobody wants me

nobody (an obvious choice, especially for opla buggy, but for good reason)

if you would just make one mistake what a relief that would be but i think for as long as we’re together i’ll be the only heartbreaker […] so i’ll be the loser in this game i’ll be the bad guy in the play i’ll be the water main that’s burst and flooding you’ll be by the window, only watching

the only heartbreaker

as i got older i learned i’m a drinker sometimes a drink feels like family […] did you go and make promises you can’t keep? well, when you break them they break you right back amateur mistake you can take it from me they break you right back

bug like an angel

you’re an angel, i’m a dog or you’re a dog and i’m your man you believe me like a god i destroy you like i am i’m sorry i’m the one you love no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me i should die i deserve it, don’t i i can feel it getting near like flashlights coming down the way one day you’ll figure me out i’ll meet judgment by the hounds people always gave me love others were never to blame after all you believe me like a god i betray you like a man

i’m your man (yes i’ve transcribed the entire song here, what of it)

i know that i ended it, but why won’t you chase after me? you know me better than i do so why didn’t you stop me?

why didn’t you stop me?

we nearly drowned for such a silly thing

old friend (most of this song doesn’t fit, but the opening lines & title combo knocks me out)

[poptrashh]

making a saira playlist, having some thoughts. this is how i think saira first listens to (and loves) mitski

yes, in my mind saira is a mitski fan because i love them both.

Saira's at the records shop when she hears it for the first time.

This is the only place within 5 km that still sells old cassettes, the kind her sister used to listen to. Saira pops by sometimes to look through the stacks and see if she can find something that Roxy might like. Sometimes she'll play a cassette to her sister on her birthday, sitting in the grass, the familiar NME issue next to her.

The song starts playing with the jarring sound of an organ that catches her off guard. Then she hears a crystal clear, lyrical voice: "you're my number one, you're the one i want..."

Saira stops browsing, considers the song. It's not her kind of music. It's very theatrical, swelling at every juncture, and urgent lyrics full of desperation. The singer's voice is really strong and clear though, and the song keeps building to an almost unbearable crescendo.

It's not the stuff she usually listens to, but something about how powerful it is won't leave her.

"Ronnie, what's this?" she points in the vicinity of the speakers when she's at the counter.

"Something by Mitski, let me see which song." The store manager, who's become grudgingly fond of Saira since she's the only person who buys the old cassettes off him, peeks at the record sleeve that's next to him. "It's called geyser."

He looks up at Saira as the song eases out. "Not your usual scene but it's a good record. You want? I'll give you a solid discount."

Saira hesitates for a second. "Nah, i'm good. Thanks though."

She leaves the store with one Bikini Kill album on cassette and doesn't think anything about it.

Later that evening though, she finds herself humming the song. The music was undeniable, the artist definitely talented.

She looks up 'geyser mitski' on her phone and plays the music video. It begins with the same jarring organ and features a woman, mitski, at a very grey and stormy looking beach. Saira's eyes widen over the course of the video. The song is as powerful as she remembers it, and in the video, Mitski is throwing herself onto the muddy beach, thrashing around, digging as if to reach something. It's...visceral and raw and, Saira can't believe she's thinking it, kind of punk.

She looks up the lyrics of the song, which are presumably about a person. A quote at the bottom of the lyrics catches her attention. It's a snippet from an interview with Mitski: "I hesitate to say what the song is about because people may find it unromantic. I wrote it about music, or maybe a music career or just the ability to make music."

Saira blinks in suprise and stops short. Wait, she needs to go back and listen to the song again.

This time, the song hits saira squarely in her her heart. She gets it. There's goosebumps all over her arms as the song plays through its highest swell. Someone else feels the same way about making music like she does - like she may not be good enough but it's the only thing she can do and she will give up so many, many things for it. Saira gets it. She's also a geyser - pouring out words that thrash around in her head till they become lyrics, setting them to music, yelling them out loud for anyone who will listen. It's the only thing for her. She wishes she could tell Mitski that it's not unromantic at all. It's the most romantic thing she's ever heard. Music is their calling and they answered it.

As Saira loops the song to play once again, she thinks, 'I need to get that record tomorrow.'

xxxxxxxxxxx

just some ramblings about my favourite artist and my favourite fictional artist while i was in my 'thinking about saira' mode.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 17/11/2023

Beyond the Floating Isles

Season 4 Episode 2 Featured on: Summer​-​Colored Smiles ~ The SiIvaSummer All​-​Star Festival Collection

Ripped by redoxwarfare

Due to the absolute volume of rips per each album, a lot of my time listening to SiIvaGunner is done so rather passively. I'll chuckle with a joke I recognize, add tracks to "Banger" and "Vibes" playlists if I'm enjoying them, and continue with my day. Its only when I decide to just listen to those playlists in particular that my brain starts getting into gear again. Like...what *is* Beyond the Floating Isles even from? I knew it was an absolute vibe of a rip, yet knew nothing else about it. That was when my journey started - and my sudden, adoring infatuation with the band "Crying".

I only just recently turned 22 years old, and for a long part of that life, I didn't really...listen to music. I enjoyed looking up my favorite video game music, and Minecraft music videos were of course part of the collective childhood of my generation...yet the act of just listening to music for music's sake, the appeal of the creative medium, was somehow lost on me. There's likely something deep-rooted in my neurodivergent mind that explains this, but SiIvaGunner has as a result been a way for me to find bands and albums that I truly connect with - through the shared passion of video game music, I've been able to grow that emotional attachment to bands that I otherwise wholly felt like I lacked. The most prominent example of that is of course Maroon 5 thanks to channel creator Chaze the Chat's enduring passion for the band in the channel's first four Seasons: I've discussed in posts like Moves Like K.K. just how much that passion reflected back onto me, and its far from the only band I've gone through this with. It may sound silly to say, but these video game mashups and arrangements and meme edits have genuinely helped me grow attached to vocals and melodies and themes from the wider music industry that I never would've otherwise.

Which brings us to my most recent experience with this - Beyond the Floating Isles, and Patriot by Crying. After making more of an initiative for myself to listen to more non-VGM this year, and after having this rip sit in my playlists for years on end, I decided it was finally time to do my due digging. What I found was a band I'd never heard of before, with only one true album release, and a lack of any real activity over the last six years. Beyond the Fleeting Gales sits at just shy of 150 thousand views on YouTube - less than SEVERAL of the rips I've covered here on this blog, yet is one of my new all-time favorite albums yet released. Patriot may be the song covered in today's rip and the one I'm the most emotionally attached to, but the album in its entirety exudes a similar vibe that I'm absolutely enamored with - a vibe that redoxwarfare did an incredible job distilling into a rip. Float Islands was an excellent choice for a song to use for such an atmospheric, uplifting song as Patriot - the two themes have little in common in terms of joke-material, but its clear to me that Beyond the Floating Isles was not made with comedy as its main intent.

I have no connection to redoxwarfare - never spoken, not sure of which rips they've made prior, and no true image of their interests and goals as a ripper. Yet Beyond the Floating Isles speaks with so much intent and love - love for a band that feels destined to be forgotten, yet is adored by the few in the masses who have found them. And I extend my deepest, sincerest gratitude toward redoxwarfare for succesfully introducing me to Crying - even if its three years after the fact, I now finally see the Fleeting Gales, and beyond.

(no but seriously go listen to Crying i will break traditional post formatting just to give you easy access to it theyre SO GOOD)

[glasyasbutch]

playlist: hyssop (A-side)

The memories of a rabbit guy who left his burrow to be more than someone's son and found himself a grouchy but damn good guard for hire

link to playlist on spotify

link to B-side post

1. Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy

Woke up on the wrong side of reality / and there's a madness that's just coursing right through me / And as for the time, for the time / Not sure I'm there yet but I'm sure that I've arrived / Oops I did it again, I forgot what I was losing my mind about

One of the first songs I picked out for this playlist. It's bold, it's strong, the overall vibes lean into what I wanted to get across of "guy who doesn't really know himself but knows for Sure he is going to fuck something up" and "potential danger to myself but bigger danger to you". Lots of references to lost memory and waking up uncertain of things, great for Hyssop fresh off the mind wipe.

2. Faster by Within Temptation

I can feel that you mesmerize my heart / I feel so free, I'm alive, I'm breaking out / I won't give in, 'cause I'm proud of all my scars / And I can see I've been wasting too much time

Another fast, forceful one, and I just love Within Temptation. There's a sister WT song on the B-side playlist (The Howling). If the first song was fresh off the mind wipe, this one's fresh off leaving the burrow and being on his own for the first time. And there's absolutely zero dramatic irony in the last song repeating "we've gone way too fast for way to long" and this one repeating "faster and faster".

3. Nemesis by TheFatRat

An instrumental piece that I chose as the soundtrack for Hyssop's combat scenes. There's a matching instrumental fight song on the B-side playlist (Protect and Defend).

4. Rain by MIKA

This ordinary mind is broken, you did it and you don't even know / You're leaving me with words unspoken, you better get back 'cause I'm ready for / More than this, whatever it is / Baby I hate days like this / Caught in a trap, can't look back / Baby I hate days like this.

Required MIKA kin song. This one's starting to transition into a slower, more introspective feel for the back half of the playlist. I originally picked it out as a ballad to Whoever The Fuck Broke His Brain Can You Fix It Please, but the more I thought about it, it doubles pretty well for his feelings about his family he grew up with too. The parallels and the cycle that doesn't break and all that.

5. Way Out There by Lord Huron

I'm a long way from the one that I loved / I've been tending old flames, lamenting what was / Drifting in a land that time forgot / If you think I've changed you know me not / I belong to the bodily earth / Wearing old bones from the ones who came first / I've been unraveling since my birth / Gonna wander out there and see what I'm worth

The last addition to the playlist but possibly the one I like best for him. There's a eerie serenity to the guitar that I think really reflects the way Hyssop feels about nature and the peace he's found in solitude out there. And if you thought the last one was a double-meaning ballad to the family and the memories he left behind, guess again. This is the perfect song for someone who has no idea who he is and desperately needs to find out.

6. You Think Your Skull is a Mighty Fortress by Dirt Poor Robins

We'll have some things to discuss / When we quarry, what's buried? / The bones you hid in such a hurry / We tarry now but we'll get around / To digging it up

Surely the fact that Hyssop is missing 10 years of his memory will just be a cool thing to keep to himself and will have zero influence on the story at all in any meaningful way. 👍

BONUS SONG that was on the playlist but I took it off because I wanted both The Memories and The Forgotten to have the same number of songs + I felt there were too many slow songs

Asleep by Sleeping at Last

I'm not certain I'm not a ghost / Is this free will or am I doing as I'm told? / I know shadows follow the rules / But what if tonight by the mercy of light, I could choose?

The literal meaning of the song is about the beauty of dreaming when you're fed up with your life, and I originally put this song on there as a "before he left the burrow" kind of thing. Like this was meant to be angsty teenage Hyssop first beginning to realize he didn't have to be beholden to other people's successes to make something of himself.

But it also makes me think of a moment in the campaign. Norm asked Hyssop if he acted the way he does because he got close to someone and lost them, and Hyssop said not all the way, but he almost did, and he swore he'll never actually get there. He was talking about himself - he got close to Someone and it cost him 10 years of his life and most of his sense of self. This song is for that promise - no matter how lost and untethered he becomes, he will always find a way to retain some semblance of control. There will always be a part of him that is no one else's that he will use to create his future.

[iamt80]

Try Again - d.ear & Jaehyun

TRY AGAIN slipped my mind at the first try, but then surprisingly came back and placed a position in my favorite playlist. Beyond visual appeals, the melodies and lyrics are open to opposite and sentimental interpretation, especially when listeners are covered in loneliness and frustration. It is like a beautiful and interesting double face coat that everyone should have in their wardrobe, which might not be usually used but definitely is a must for a rainy and doom day.

The dark side  

Due to the long time we shared  

Perhaps it's just natural our expectations increased  

Even with our countless shouts  

We couldn't reach each other's hearts  

Started with a blue tone and slow piano back sounds, the first verse tells a not so pleasure story of shouts and disappointment. I wondered the causes of “countless shouts” are countless problems or countless repetition of the same old mistakes. Being well-matched has never been an easy thing nor of destiny, but is a progress requiring bilateral efforts for continuous adjustments and personal development. Conflict is sometimes a greater good because once the problems are handled, we will get a better understanding on ourselves and our partner. However, an increasing number of unsolved conflicts over the time just more or less implies the fact that we are not meant to be. Whatever the case is, it is incomparable with the exhaustion caused by a non-stop bleeding wound when one keeps on digging their fingers in the sore. If a problem revisits us that frequent, it is us ourselves being the problem.  

So whenever you ask me again how I feel    

Please remember my answer is you    

Even if we have to go back a long way    

I will still feel the same way about you    

We'll be alright, I want to try again  

Confusion and negative flows from the previous part and the chorus provoke pains, especially the conversation “how do you feel?” - “my answer is you”. The one asking the question might not aim to seek for confirmation if the other stands by her side, but for her partner's true feeling and opinion. The pain point is rooted from lack of understanding and empathy, which can only be built up if we are honest with ourselves, and sincere with the other. Having your true heart exposed actually is a risky bet, but let’s nip the problem in the bud rather than sugarcoating them all. A bitter ending is better than an endless bitterness.  

“I will still feel the same way about you” - The more I dig into the lyrics, the less patient I turn. I should have felt more secured and confident, but why is only insecurity left in the given context. The boundary between “I love everyone” and “I love no one in particular” is indeed subtle, and “I feel the same” is neither different to “I don’t feel anything”. Being so generalized is way too confusing and boring. Long time spent together surely comes up with memories, thoughts and feelings. Then, “the same way” means the same with what feeling, what emotion, what thought? This creates a vague premonition whether the perception about a person is stuck somewhere in the other's mind, or does one just love the ideal of love instead of actually falling in love?  

The bright side  

No matter how many times we fall apart    

Due to our frequent arguments    

Like I said, we're the ones that matter the most    

We're not meaningless  

I'm taking a step forward and    

I'm telling you what the past has shown us  

Escaping the ocean of confusion, the second verse comes out with like a warmer and brighter flow. This part, the narrator clearly states his opinion, what he values most, so I know what he is standing for. Saying We're not meaningless eases me somehow. I am actually afraid of being nothing when one says everything before, and also of being a delusion. What the past has shown us more or less confirms that this relationship is real through the acknowledgement of bricks we have built together. I am not sure if this verse is a higher level of manipulation of the previous one, or actually is the light of hope. And I opt the latter.  

A bit sentimental, but I hope that this verse would come to people whenever they are covered in sadness. Things do not always follow the way we expected. We then feel down, seeing ourselves a total useless, being annoyed with no fruitfulness but failure, or overwhelmed in negative energies. Having someone there to encourage and share us the pressure is greater than great. However, regardless of being surrounded by people, there is certain time in life we feel disconnected with the outer world, being lost and completely lonely. And in such time, there is only you stay with yourself.  

The strength from inside is something undeniable but often neglected. There is no guaranteed remedy for all dilemmas. New solution/new people are things people normally think of, while in some cases, taking a break to look back the road we have gone through is worth considering either. I do not encourage falling into the past or being too relied on the same old route. But sometimes, things have changed in a very fast pace that we forget who we are. Us at the present are built from all the experiences we have ever gained, what we love/hate, and what make us happy/sad. One day, every little thing we've done will become the motivation for us to continue. It can’t be helped if we’ve tried our best but things are still struggled. At least, we do not regret :)  

So whenever you ask me again how I feel    

Please remember my answer is you    

Even if we have to go back a long way    

I will still feel the same way about you    

We'll be alright, I want to try again  

The same chorus, but this time, thanks to the connection with its previous part, produces optimistic vibe and feelings. It is a gentle whisper that I’d love to tell myself and my precious ones. My late 2022 was in a state of utter chaos. Everybody does their job well while me terribly. When I was about to give up, the chorus came and said things I needed the most that I nearly burst into tears. I just felt like I've got someone back me up to continue. Reorganizing the messy thoughts and experiences when the hard time got over, I think of this song as a gift for me. This entry is quite like a wall of text, but I just simply want to express my gratitude for the attempt of people who made this song exists.  

We'll be alright, please try again  

We can never know for sure whether what we are trying to do will come up with a good or bad outcome. However, keeping on moving at least makes us alive. I don’t like John Lennon, but I like a saying (widely assumed to be his): everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it is not the end. Yes, nothing is perfect, so if you know what is important to you, please TRY AGAIN.

And last but not least, happy your 1402 day, Jaehyun 😊  

[laulo821]

yea i see!! yea it's fallen kingdom– it's the fallen kingdom quintilogy. tbf it's nostalgic to me too so that's why i'm back on them probably? i mean every few months i rediscover (old) music i listened to a while ago but fell out off just cuz life is cyclic and that was the end of this song's cycle for now!

what got me back into the fallen kingdom quintilogy (and other Minecraft parodies) is the Herobrine hype i've been going through since uuhhhh September? cause there is a modpack (From The Fog) bringing him back in the modern minecraft versions and i'm obsessed. this made me dig up fallen kingdom and realise that recently, the fifth installment of the series was out (rising kingdom) and it's a banger honestly. it just slaps. so ive listened back to the whole series and other parodies. also my friends have launched an SMP this week so i'm more in the minecraft mood than usual too hehe

concerning pikmin. it's a funny one. i dont usually listen to game OSTs either but i like the calm atmospheric songs of pikmin. but also. by picking pikmin i include all the pikmin parodies/covers that people have made lmao. them lil guys singing ... dopamine juice. i'm a big fan of meme songs covers. also it's my current fixation so i gotta consume pikmin content lest i explode

for the rest, well. hazbin hotel. ive watched it. not going on details about the show specifically but the songs be slapping for some (most?) of them. it's got that raw feelings power that i seek out in musics yknow. when you hear the singer (or character here i guess) putting their whole heart in it, them breaking on the notes, elevating it with hope and such... loving sigh. but there's also a few of the hh songs i really don't like cus i just find them. bad? or too awkward in terms of writing/pacing i guess. hot take i don't enjoy make you gone nor best dad in hell

then we got the solo album of Charlie Scene, member (slash leader?) of famous band Hollywood Undead. so it's more in association with my second fav group ever Hollywood Undead that i hung up on it. but also it is part of the cycle i talked about earlier. i discovered his solo album in july last year i believe, fell out if it, thought about it recently and have been binging it again! although i admit it is less good that i remember?

another album that's more in my usual ballpark is the Fall Out Boy's one. i picked the album half randomly i'll be honest (chose it because there's My Songs Know in it i believe? my fav from FOB due to Nostalgia™) so it's more about the whole discography than this album specifically. i've been listening to them recently because i was not in the mood for any other rock band of my usual liking (being Muse, TDG, Hollywood Undead and MCR between others). they just fit my current music mood better i guess!!

and the last one is Ceinture Noire by GIMS. French rap. hell yea brother. again it's back in the cyclic rotation i guess. i like his music, he's got a great timber, good writing for me, sick bars. i prefer his um love songs than his street songs(?) but i can appreciate them too. he's pretty big in France btw but he peaked (thanks to mockery) in 2015 or the like so it may be Nostalgia™ again but i enjoy or dare i say, prefer his more recent music too so maybe not!! funfact he made a song with sia so you can picture how big he is. he also made one with sting

thats for my lineup. i'm very pick and choose tho so i'm listening to a whole lot of other unrelated things while these album play ... like there's a lot of the Crane Wives in my randomly generated playlists too! there's a lot of half•alive, there's some Dionysus (from the Jack and Cuckoo-Clock Heart) in there too... it's really varied i guess. but apparently i'm in a very "witch"like music period according to my playlist but i'm really growing out of it and they're starting to annoy me more than anything. so, my music cycle is shifting again.... who knows what awaits....

good evening! whatcha mean my album lineup is fascinating... id love to tell you more about it but idk why it really is that interesting .... or? surprising? i guess >_>

yeah it is i think! at least to me

tbh mostly its just different from what i have been listening to but the minecraft + pikmin rlly stood out to me at least visually. i dont listen to a lotta video game osts or fansongs/parodies (i recognized fallen kingdom maybe?) anymore so its kinda nostalgic to see yk? i have such strong memories of listening to the katamari damacy ost and drawing like. homestuck fanart. it reminds me of that eheh

and its neato! like im thinkin what got u on those lately. and hazbin. aha

+ the others i didnt recognize at all so i just want to know more about em in general :3

[msponies]

What the shit did you smoke for you to make this blog inactive!?

okay this is a little fun a little sassy silly…… i dig it i vibe….. i’m currently at my grandparents house taking my dog out so i think it’s a good time to go through my past ~14 months and together we can see where i fell off the wagon (SLASH GEN i promise i’m not being snarky! i really do want you all who have supported me to know i’m okay + what i’ve been up to)

it’ll be under the cut, and as a thank you to all of you,

oh yeah. ohhhhhhhh yeah

july 2021: artfight happens, i do two attacks and then just stop drawing ANYTHING. i started sewing again briefly which was the second crafty hobby i had before drawing (first was origami!), so that eats up my time. if i remember i want to edit this when i’m home and add a picture from my old phone of me sitting on my bed with my cats, sewing a “sock creature” (PLEASE please if you have the time look up john murphy’s sock creatures, his first book was so formative to me)

august 21: i start working at spirit halloween!!

september 21: i become close friends with this guy Vincent, we had known of each other for a while and were mutual fans of each other’s art but here we start talking on a daily basis!!!

october 21: obviously The Big One for a spirit employee, it was halloween all month baby! i had three costumes (the third was Raph from tmnt but i don’t have a pic 😿)

(side note i LOVE the turtles, the reason i got that black wig in the goth cat costume was to cosplay casey jones from tmnt2012)

november 21: by the nature of spirit halloween i am now unemployed. i try hbwr seeds for the first time which to answer the original question is most likely what i smoked to make this blog inactive

december 21: I BREAK UP WITH MY EX!!!! i found his secret pr0$h!p twitter on christmas eve so i timed pretty much the exact midpoint between christmas and new years and broke it off then

january 22: i reorganize my life!! i get a new bed frame and other furniture for my room to celebrate my fresh start. i find a very rudimentary children’s sewing machine at goodwill and get fully back into making sock creatures!!!! plus i hack a 3ds, but i know we’re all doing that

february 22: this is where i really do just become burned out for a bit, i do JACK SQUAT except make a G2 Tier Maker:

march 22: i start taking job hunting seriously… ALSO me and Vinnie who i mentioned back in september keep talking and keep growing closer; i send him a playlist of songs that make me think of our ponysonas and for the first time it becomes really clear to each of us how much we like one another 💥 the playlist in question:

april 22: i turn 24! i also start working at taco bell. i also stop working at taco bell. i watch a good chunk of pac man and the ghostly adventures

may 22: probably my favorite month of the year thus far! i journal every day, go to the park, work hard around the house and in general do what feels gratifying to me!

june 22: i go to a pride event in my city and run into a girl who i bought a teddy bear purse from at spirit! she mentions applying at the McAlister’s that’s opening next month and i follow suit; it goes poifectly and my training starts at the beginning of…

july 22: DELI TIME! i’m trained to work prep which means folding up all the meat that gets used for sandwiches, plus slicing n dicing various produce. Vincent and I are like 💓official💓 at this point or whatever….. :)

august 22: i adjust to life behind the industrial-grade rotary slicer. i get back DEEP into webkinz. Vincent and i meet up for the first time!!!!!!!!!!!!!

september 22: loooots more boyfriend time 🎉 but also i go back to school 👎

now: well damn! i’m in a little bit of a rut in full honesty; i only have so much energy in a given day and i spend most of it on work and school. i am so grateful for everyone who has shown me patience, and i want to prove that it wasn’t “wasted” on me in any way. i still have a lot of personal work to do before i can post on a reliable schedule again

thank you :)

[disclove]

HEARTSIGH . hrj (ft. lyy)

PAIRING / HUANG RENJUN X YANG NANA (FT. LIU YANGYANG)

WORD COUNT / ~15000

SYNOPSIS / everyone was in love with huang renjun, right? the student council prez with perfect grades that every parent would kill to have as a son-in-law. but not nana, and she had a good reason. but would she change her mind after a drunken dare that she'd stupidly agreed to? or would it end terribly?

GENRE / COMEDY, ANGST, PINING, BET AU, RICH KID AU, HIGH SCHOOL AU.

WARNINGS / there's a lot... umm ... mentions of self-harm, depression, anxiety, smoking, a lot of toxic behavior, nana and renjun are both assholes (lowkey), violence, manipulation & kind of gaslighting?? not sure if i missed anything

PLAYLIST / OKAY - CHASE ATLANTIC, MODERN LONELINESS - LAUV, I HATE U - SZA, YOU WON'T BE THERE FOR ME - SLCHLD, BYE MY FIRST - NCT DREAM.

NOTE FROM TAOJUN / hello! this is a repost from my old account NEOWAVES (& nana is an oc). this is part of my HIGH SCHOOL CLICHE series and dedicated @njmverse from the neosecretsanta collab!  like and reblog if you enjoyed, and please send any feedback in my askbox!

TAGS / @ankathi-a​, @nct-writers​, @kflixnet​, @ficscafe​ !

NEW BLOG, NEW TAGLIST - FORM HERE!

i. the face of a bitch, who never rests

“I should’ve known better than to trust a bitch that doesn’t even go to this school,” Nana scowls, throwing an empty glass bottle down from the roof. A smirk grows on her face as the ear-splitting sound of the glass shattering on the concrete echoes through the air. 

“Gosh, I fucking hate him. Can’t believe I fell for such a bitch, but I probably never liked him anyway.”

Yangyang grabs her hand before she reaches for another glass bottle. “Stop. You’ll get in trouble.”

“Do I look like I give a single shit?” she snaps, with a cigarette sticking out of her mouth, prying his grip off of her as she hurls the next bottle down the side of the building. 

“I told you he was bad news,” he sighs. “His facade was too perfect to be true—”

“Mhm. What— you’re gonna tell me ‘I told you so’? Thanks for the moral support,” she sneers, taking the cigarette between her fingers and pulling it out of her mouth.

“Yang Nana. You can’t just let all your self-esteem break down over a piece of fucking trash,” Yangyang glares at her. “You always said you’d never let anyone break you, and yet here you are, smashing shit to stop yourself from crying.”

She grips a broken glass bottle, feeling the glass shards dig into her skin and pierce it, yet she barely registers the pain. 

“Everyone in my life is a fucking liar,” she sneers, watching as the glass cuts into her skin and blood flows down her fingers, stomping the fire out of her cigarette under the soles of her boot. “and I hate him.”

“Nana,” Yangyang scolds with a sigh, prying the glass from her palm and grabbing her injured hand, lightly picking a few glass shards out. “We’re going to the nurse. Stop doing this to yourself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and pick your confidence back up. Don’t let him take a single thing from you by leaving.”

With that, he grabs her non-injured hand and leads her down the stairs, away from the rooftop with a crate of glass beer bottles with the blood-stained glass shards on the ground. 

“Why do you resort to self-harm every time?” Yangyang sighs as he watches the blood drip off of her fingertips and onto the ground, leading her across campus to fix up her hand. 

Nana stays silent, and Yangyang just shakes his head, knowing she was too stubborn to listen. His gaze hardened when he saw Renjun walking out of one of his classes, already heading in their direction. But before he could lead Nana out of the impending argument that was inevitably going to happen, Renjun already saw them from across the hall, and was walking towards the two of them. 

“Hey, Yang Nana, what happened to your hand?” Renjun asks in mock concern, his eyes lingering on the blood dripping down her hand. “Lost your temper again?”

She scowls at the bitchy tone of his otherwise sweet words. “None of your fucking business, kiss-up.”

“That's no way to speak to the student council president,” he tsks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Calm down, I was just asking. Sometimes I think you hate me for no reason.”

“Yeah, you’re only student council president to build your resume because your grades are trash,” she snaps. “And because only two people ran for president. Get your head out of your fucking ass, bitch.”

“Last time I checked, I’m number 4 overall in the school for grades. You’re just two places higher because you fucking cheated,” Renjun sneers back. 

“Wow, the perfect boy knows how to curse,” she gasps sarcastically, before addressing his accusations. “And no, I didn’t cheat. Just because I’m smarter than your dumb ass doesn’t mean I cheated. I don’t care about my image and status being perfect as much as you do, you conceited bitch.”

“Oh, really? Why don’t you tutor me then?” he suggests with a smirk on his face, raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm… no, go kiss your chemistry teacher’s ass. Maybe Dr. Ou-Yang will pity you and give you a chance at being valedictorian… that is, if you can beat Huang Xinyi… or me,” she retorts.

Renjun hesitates for a moment, and Nana takes this chance to stick her middle finger in his face and brush past him, Yangyang’s hand still firmly in her grip. 

“God, he’s such an annoying shit,” she scowls. “Pretentious ass.”

Yangyang sighs, unconsciously repeating Renjun’s words. “Sometimes I think you hate him for no reason.”

She stops in her tracks abruptly, turning to look at him sharply. “I have very good reasons to dislike him, in fact. You of all people should know this.”

He holds in yet another sigh, nodding as he walks Nana into the nurse’s office. The student who was taking Dr. Li’s place during his break, Guo Yifeng, glances at Nana and her bleeding hand and frowns— while suppressing a smile at the sight of her hand firmly in Yangyang’s grip. 

“What happened, Nana?” Yifeng asks, cocking her head in the direction of her injured hand. 

“Glass shards,” Nana responds plainly, not caring to elaborate further. 

Yangyang lets go of her hand and pushes her slightly towards the seat next to Yifeng, causing her to fall into it ungracefully. 

Yifeng gently takes Nana’s hand, inspecting the glass puncturing her skin with a sigh. She turns away to grab a bottle of disinfecting alcohol and a few cotton balls, dampening the cotton with the alcohol as she speaks. 

“The glass cut pretty deep into you, so I’m going to need to use tweezers to pick them out,” she explains as she lightly wipes away the blood near the wounds on Nana’s hand. Grabbing a tweezer, Yifeng looked at her closely. “It might hurt, but I don't have enough time to take you to a hospital. We can’t let the glass go in any deeper, or it’ll never come out and keep cutting you internally, causing a lot of internal bleeding.”

Nana nods indifferently, sucking in a breath as she feels Yifeng’s tweezers pulling a glass shard out of her hand. With her other hand, Yifeng immediately grabbed a cotton pad to press against the blood rushing out from the open wound.

After extracting a few more pieces and bandaging her hand carefully, Yifeng breathes out in relief. 

“You’re lucky there weren’t that many small pieces that went underneath your skin, but make sure to let your hand rest for about a week. Change bandages everyday, and if you don’t have enough of them, you can always come back to get more,” she says with a smile. “Try not to get injured so much in the future, okay?”

But her words went ignored as Nana grabs Yangyang’s hand again and exits the nurse’s office. 

“Where do you want to go now?” Nana asks. “God, this means that I can’t work. Fuck it, I’m working anyway. I need the money.”

“You should rest. But before that— let's go beat up your ex.”

“But… ” she starts, a little apprehensive— but brushes off her concerns quickly, slightly scared to ruin her reputation by turning Yangyang down. “Never mind. yeah, let’s go.”

They approach Yangyang’s motorcycle, Nana climbing on directly behind Yangyang. 

Though he looked composed, all of his thoughts masked behind his indifferent facade, Yangyang shakes with rage under his calm expression. Nana has been the only person he’s ever trusted, and he became extremely wary when she started dating Jaemin. 

Yangyang was so suspicious of his perfect facade, and the way they even met— Jaemin lived in Korea, for fuck’s sake. He visited China every few weeks only when he didn’t want to attend school, until he graduated. He moved to a university near their school in China, yet turned down her multiple offers to meet up, despite the significant decrease of difficulty to just walk a few blocks down to meet his girlfriend. 

And a few days ago, his fling had texted Nana and apologized, explaining what had happened. She had hooked up with Jaemin multiple times without knowing that he had a girlfriend. 

Instead of wanting to kill Jaemin like he had expected, she had only sent him a “fuck you” text and blocked him everywhere she could. 

Yangyang knew that Nana was broken, yet she pushed him away— and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Once they got to the back of Jaemin’s university, Yangyang dialed his number, making sure that his number remained unknown to Jaemin. 

“Back of your school,” Yangyang snaps angrily. “Square up, you fucking asshole.”

“I’m surprised that Jaemin didn’t hit you back,” Nana sighs as she bandages Yangyang’s wounds. “but holy fucking shit, Jeno is strong as fuck.”

She had only gotten a punch in the nose by Jaemin’s friend Haechan, but Jaemin pulled him back, unable to help Yangyang while Jeno had, quite literally, beaten Yangyang up. 

“Don’t remind me,” he groans, as he hissed out in pain when Nana’s alcohol wipes brushed over his open wounds. “God, I had no idea Jaemin’s friends were assholes too. I thought they’d be mad that Jaemin cheated, but they’re sticking up for a motherfucker like him? Wow. I am absolutely fucking speechless.”

“I know, I can’t believe it either,” she sighs, while turning to glance at the clock, gasping as she reads the time. “Shit, it’s already 4. I need to go to work.”

“Not with that,” Yangyang eyes her bandaged hand, with a raised eyebrow and a pointed expression on his face. 

She just rolls her eyes at him. “You can’t stop me.”

“Well, I’ll still be at your house when you get back. We’re going to a party at night,” he sighs out, knowing that he couldn’t change her mind, being the stubborn person she was.

ii. truth or dare? that’s boring, let’s play dare or humiliation!

True to his word, Yangyang was still sitting on her couch nearly six hours later, scrolling through his Netflix account that he logged into on Nana’s TV.

“Oh, you’re back,” he yawns, blinking his drowsiness away as he sat up. “Just finished binging The Untamed. Gosh, I forgot how much it fucking sucks.”

She makes a sound acknowledging his statement while rubbing her eyes, setting her bag down on a chair. 

“God, just came back from three shifts,” she sighs tiredly. “And I’m barely making enough to cover this month,”

Yangyang frowns at his friend’s tired state. “Nana… I told you that I can help you pay it off, I have too much money anywa—”

“No.” She interrupts sternly. “Ma would’ve hated that. She hated owing people money, and I’ll just feel bad knowing that you paid off Ma’s hospital debt, which should’ve been Ba’s responsibility. But he’s gone too, so it’s my job now. I’m not going to let you offer me your whole allowance to cover this.”

Yangyang sighs. “But you literally work, like, 30 hours a week on the weekdays and an extra 20 hours a week on the weekends! You need a break, I’ll just cover one month for you—”

“Stop it, Yangyang. I said no.”

He just pouts. I can’t ever do anything nice for Nana without her getting upset. 

“Fine. Let’s get ready, the party is in half an hour.”

“What party?” she asks in confusion. “I’m fucking exhausted, I’m not in the mood to party.”

But he just ignores her words as he pulls out an outfit for her from a bag that he had placed inconspicuously on the floor a few hours ago. “Put it on, I’m waiting!”

“When did you even buy this?!” she gapes, her eyes widening as she reads the designer brand name and the price tag of each piece. Her jaw drops upon reading the huge number. “Yangyang, this is literally enough to cover two months of the hospital debt!! What were you thinking?! This is so fucking expensive I-”

“It’s not important… put it on!” he says, cutting her off successfully. 

She exhales a breath steadily, and goes into her room to change, with the outfit in her hands. Yangyang had chosen a pair of high-waisted ripped straight denim jeans, a Gucci belt, and a black ribbed tube top with sheer sleeves, leaving a small section of skin exposed above the waistband.

Nana sighs, feeling bad for accepting all of the extravagant gifts Yangyang buys for her— at this point, he could honestly pass for her sugar daddy. She pairs the outfit with more jewelry that he bought for her; a simple gold chain choker, and a few rings— a twisted silver one on her right index, a simple rose gold one that she placed halfway on her right middle finger, a bronze chain one on her right index, a thick jade ring that she got from her grandmother (the only one that wasn’t from Yangyang), which she placed on her left middle finger, a gold one with a crescent moon on it halfway on her left ring finger (which was from a matching set with Yangyang), and a claw ring that started from the base of her left index to adorning the tip of her finger. 

Grabbing a pair of purple tinted glasses to, hopefully, complete her look, she walks outside of her room. “Yangyang, you really need to stop buying me shit… you’re literally being a sugar daddy at this point,” she jokes. 

“Oh? Do you want me to be your daddy?” he smirks, and Nana’s eyes widen slightly at the innuendo, but she just scoffs, a disgusted expression on her face.

“You wish.”

Yangyang snickers at that, and casually grabs a pair of heeled sandals out of the same bag as before. “Shoes.”

Nana sighs. “Literally 90% of the shit I wear is bought by you, Yangyang, you really need to stop.”

But her words go ignored by Yangyang, who places the shoes into her hands.

“Let’s go,” he smiles as she finishes fastening her new shoes, taking her hand and leading her out of her apartment, back onto his motorcycle again. 

Nana wrinkles her nose at the already overwhelming scent of alcohol in the air as she enters the party with Yangyang. She mentally freezes in anger as she realizes whose party this is, seeing Renjun — who’s already drunk and complaining about something (probably Nana) to his friend Chenle—from across the room. 

She turns accusingly to Yangyang, but he was already gone; he knew better than to stick around and get yelled at by Nana. 

With a sigh, she walks into the kitchen, grabbing a mixed drink on the table, grimacing at the initial taste. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” a voice says behind her. She smirks as she turns to meet his eyes. 

“Guanheng, what the fuck did you put in this drink?” Nana snorts as she takes another sip.

“Ah… it’s my new special, the one I’d like to call Drunk In My Bed,” he snickers. “How is it?”

“Terrible,” she jokes. “I think I’ll Puke In Your Bed instead.”

He frowns, clutching his chest in mock pain. 

“How rude of you, Nana,” he gasps out playfully. “That’s my favorite creation!”

She smirks while downing the rest of the drink. “When are we playing beer pong?”

“Any time you want, babe,” he flirts, raising an eyebrow with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Are you playing with me?”

“Only if you don’t suck, sweetheart,” she plays along. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make better drinks. You need an upgraded bartender.”

With that, she grabs the tequila, vodka, Sprite, mango juice and orange juice from his fridge, along with a drink shaker and a few syrups he has stashed in a cupboard. 

She shakes up an array of drinks, making Guanheng hand them out, who promises a round of beer pong after everyone is drunk enough. 

Nana rests her arm on Yangyang’s shoulder as she hands him a drink. He takes it and drinks it, humming in approval. 

“What’s happening now?” she asks. 

“Nothing interesting,” he shrugs. “Just Renjun shit-talking you, but I didn’t expect anything more from that snake.”

She sighs in response. “Let’s beat him up later, we’re playing beer pong first.”

Just as she finishes speaking, Guanheng claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Hey everyone, we’re playing beer pong, so join me in the room with a partner if you want to play or watch— there’s a total of three tables to play on.”

“Let’s go,” Nana smiles, taking Yangyang’s hand and leading him to the beer pong tables. “You want to play?”

“No, I’ll just watch you and Guanheng argue,” he smirks.

“I heard my name,” Guanheng winks as he joins Nana at one side of a table. 

“Who wants to play against the godly beer pong duo?!” Yangyang yells out loudly. 

The party goes silent for a moment, before Renjun (who is already nearly bat-shit drunk) yells, “Me and Chenle-ya will do it!”

“You’ve made a bad decision, Renjun-ah,” he mumbles out to Renjun with a smirk on his face. 

“It’s okay, he was a bad decision,” Nana smirks. “Bring it on, losers.”

Before Renjun could open his mouth to retort, Yangyang pushes them to the other side of the table. And suddenly, the two other beer pong tables look empty as everyone huddles around the center table with Nana and Guanheng against Renjun and Chenle. 

“Let’s fucking go, Yang Nana!” Siyuan yells out loudly, already almost batshit drunk. Chenle and Guanheng fill their respective cups with beer as Renjun and Nana stare at each other. 

“Bring it on, Mr. Perfect,” Nana snickers. 

Renjun grabs a ping-pong ball and aims it at their side of cups, but it bounces off the rim of the center cup and onto the table. 

“Darn, your aim sucks,” she taunts as she grabs herself a ball, easily tossing it into the cup closest to Renjun. The crowd of students go wild as she cocks an eyebrow at him. “Drink up, prez.”

He mutters out complaints while tossing the ball back to their side, taking the cup of beer and drinking it all. Chenle grabs another ball, resisting the urge to facepalm at the obvious tension between the two, and easily gets it into the cup closest to the center. 

Guanheng sighs as he grabs the cup, tossing the ball back to Chenle, who hands it to Renjun, and downs the beer— so quickly that it leaves a burn in his throat, which he grimaces at, before grabbing their ping-pong ball. 

He manages to get it into the cup in the corner, and Nana lets out a small breath of relief as Chenle drinks all of the liquid in the cup.

Renjun squints at cups in front of him, his vision already getting a little blurry with the alcohol in his lightweight system. 

Surprisingly, he manages to get it into the left cup in the second row. Nana grabs it with a scoff, taking out the ball and throwing it at Renjun’s head before pouring the whole drink into her mouth, throwing the cup behind her. 

She grabs the ball in Guanheng’s hand, staring closely as she aims it at a random cup, and it lands in with a splash. Renjun lets out an audible groan as he grabs the cup, rolls the ball towards the other side, and drinks it all. 

It’s Chenle’s turn now, but he misses, and Renjun nearly screams in frustration. 

“Chenle, you fucking suck,” he whines, and Nana doesn’t even suppress the laugh bubbling up within her. 

“You also missed one,” she smirks. “Therefore, you also suck.”

Guanheng grabs the ball and lands it into the cup nearest to the center, and Chenle grumbles an insult at Renjun as he drinks it. 

“All your fucking fault for making me play with you,” Chenle tsks. “I should’ve just ignored you.”

Renjun just shrugs as he attempts to throw the ball into another cup. But it fails, bouncing on the rim of two cups before landing on the table— but by now, mostly everyone has dissipated from the crowd, disappointed in Renjun’s and Chenle’s lack of skill. Nana just gives him a mocking pity smile as she tosses the ball into the right cup in the second row.

“Looks like you’re the one who fucking sucks,” she snickers, watching as he downs the cup of beer with a pout on his face.

“Shut up, you’re only good because you have nothing better to do,” he snaps. 

“That’s a bad way of coping, assuming things just because you’re bad at it. You’d be bad at this even if you did it every single day,” she says disapprovingly with a click of her tongue. “You just don’t know how to do anything except be a nerd. Is this your first time tasting alcohol, goody two shoes?”

Chenle interrupts their argument with a cough, getting his ball into the middle cup closest to the other side. Guanheng exhales air through his nose as he drinks, slamming the cup on the table as he consumes the whole cup. He grabs the ping pong ball, focusing on the last cup standing on the other side. 

“You better get this one, or I’m never playing beer pong with you again,” Nana whispers threateningly. 

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” he smirks back as he bounces the ball on the table, and into the last cup. 

Renjun groans as Chenle finishes the last cup on their side, whining about Chenle making them lose. 

“As customary to our version of beer pong, you guys also have to split the last three cups of beer too,” Nana winks as she leaves the room.

Siyuan drags Nana to the group of people playing their version of Truth or Dare. 

“Siyuan, Truth or Dare is the dumbest game in the history of dumb games,” Nana deadpans. “For the last time, I am not playing.”

“Hey, hey,” Guanheng pipes up from the circle. “We’re not playing Truth or Dare. That’s boring. We’re playing Dare or Humiliation!”

Nana raises her eyebrows. 

“Come on, just one round, please?” Siyuan pouts, and she groans, obliging with a few “fine, okay”’s falling from her lips. 

Siyuan spins the bottle in the middle to choose the first victim player. 

And it lands on Siyuan. Nana smirks as she senses Siyuan’s grimace. 

“Tang Siyuan,” Nana says. “Dare or Humiliation?”

“Hm… um, I’ll pick Dare,” Siyuan sighs.

“Wise choice,” Guanheng winks at her, and spins the wheel of dares on his phone, which everyone in the circle contributed to. 

“Mix Lao Gan Ma, soymilk, mung bean ice cream, sesame paste, orange juice, salted egg crackers, that 5-day old jasmine milk tea with brown sugar boba and coconut jelly in Guanheng’s fridge, and yogurt in a blender and drink it,” he snickers, but it fades and a terrified expression grows on his face as he reads the rest of the dare. “And then… kiss Guanheng. I- wait, what? What if I got this one? Would I kiss myself?” 

The two victims cringe at the sound of the monstrous dare. 

“Now, who came up with this?!” he cries out in terror. 

“Me,” Yangyang says casually. “Great dare, right? I was kind of hoping that Siyuan would get this one.”

Siyuan scowls at him as everyone else in the circle excitedly gets up to make her the gag-guaranteed drink.

Soon, Nana approaches her again with the demonic concoction of a drink— chunky and revolting— with a shit-eating grin on her face as Siyuan reluctantly accepts the cursed cup of disgusting foods. 

“Drink up, darling,” she smirks at the scowl on Siyuan’s face. 

Plugging her nose and quickly pouring the mixture into her mouth, she swallows with a grimace on her face. 

“Oh God, that was nasty. Guanheng, come here,” Siyuan says with a cheeky grin on her face, grabbing him by the neck. She connects her lips with Guanheng’s, making sure that she slides her tongue into his mouth— forcing him to taste the gag-worthy drink, too. 

He pulls away as soon as she lets go, coughing and choking at the taste. 

“I’m getting water to wash that shit down,” he gags, as she follows him to get some for herself as well.

Siyuan sits back down in the circle, spinning the bottle again a little too eagerly. 

It lands on Yangyang, and he groans out “Dare”, as Guanheng spins the wheel again. 

“Kiss the person closest to you,” he reads. “Simple enough. You and Meng Xiyun.”

Xiyun cringes slightly at the dare, but stays in place as Yangyang pecks her on the lips, an indifferent expression on his face as he grabs the bottle to spin. 

About ten rounds go by before the bottle lands on Nana. 

“Dare,” she shrugs.

“Shit, we’re out of dares,” Guanheng sighs as he looks at the zero at the top of the “New Dares” list. “Anyone have a dare for her?”

Siyuan perks up, a little too eagerly as she downs the rest of her Tsingdao beer bottle, slamming it onto the floor as she yells out drunkenly, “MAKE OUT WITH HUANG RENJUN!”

Everyone in the circle goes silent. Nana’s eyes flick to the side of the room, where Renjun is still shit-talking someone (presumably, her) to Chenle, who looks extremely exasperated, but unable to stop his friend from complaining. 

She hesitates for a few moments, but smirks and lets out a scoff as she processes the dare. 

“Sure, I’ll do it,” she said indifferently, grabbing Yangyang’s half-empty beer bottle and chugging the rest of it before slamming it down on the ground again. 

“Nana, what the fuck,” Yangyang deadpanned.

“Bitch, I’m not doing this sober.”

Everyone’s eyes widen in complete shock as she stands up and makes her way towards Renjun. 

He loses his train of thought as he sees Nana walking towards him, and Chenle takes this as a cue to leave. She smirks at his pathetic attempt to back away— completely backing himself into a wall instead. 

She slaps her hand to the wall beside him as she looks him up and down in disgust. She raises an eyebrow, exhaling heavily through her nose.

“Hey, student council president,” she scoffs. “Don’t you know it’s rude to talk shit about other people? Especially if they can hear you?”

He lets out an audible gulp as her hot breath brushes across face, making him look even more flushed on top of his drunken red glow.

“I— uh, yeah— but—” Renjun stammers, but before he could get an excuse out, she leans in even closer and his eyes blow wide as she connects her lips to his.

He doesn’t know how to react. His lips stay completely frozen as hers move against his passionately. Out of all the things he expected to happen, getting his first kiss as a makeout session from the person he hated the most was absolutely not one of them.

Renjun loses it when her tongue glides over his bottom lip, gasping into the kiss as her tongue slides into his mouth. He closes his eyes, kissing back as he moves his hands up to her head, pulling her even closer to him. He nearly moans into the kiss as her fingers find their way onto him, running through the hairs at the nape of his neck as her tongue explores each and every crevice of his mouth. 

But just when Renjun was debating whether to slide his tongue into her mouth as well— something that had never even crossed his mind before, let alone considered— Nana suddenly pulls away, blowing out a breath against his lips before walking away, throwing a wink behind her shoulder at him before joining the circle again.

“I told you it was easy,” she states nonchalantly, like she definitely did not just have a heated makeout session with someone whom she hated more than her father (which was truly an impressive feat). 

The rest of the group was still shocked, staring at her like she just entered the room from the ceiling.

“You— Renjun— that—“ Siyuan sputters out in disbelief, the shock from watching that probably sobering up her mind. “You actually did it?! I was joking, Nana. And I was drunk!”

“Don’t pretend to be innocent,” Nana rolls her eyes. “I know that all of you wanted to see that.”

A wave of embarrassment hits Renjun after he hears the conversation, as tears well up in his eyes. 

Of course she isn’t interested in you, Renjun, he thought bitterly to himself. You were a fucking asshole to her. 

And his eyes widen at the thought of thinking of her that way and he spins back to look at Nana’s expression, which looks uncannily similar to the Cheshire cat’s. 

Don’t I hate her? Why do I even care?

His thoughts were nearly visible on his face. 

Oh, sweetheart… that’s only what you want to believe, Nana thinks to herself, the shit-eating grin plastered on her face only growing.

iii. step one: try to make him like you— well shit, step one failed.

Nana wakes up in Yangyang’s bed to a massive headache and around fifty text notifications blowing up her phone. 

Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she sits up, blinking her eyes as she regains consciousness, drinking a glass of water on the table beside the bed she was in.

She unlocks her phone, her eyes widening comically as she reads the texts guilty of blowing up her notifications for the past few hours. 

siyuan idiot 🤺 — 01:04babe i know you’re batshit drunk right now but i think it’s a good idea to text you this so you DO know even though i’m right next to your drunk ass right the fuck now don’t kill me pls but i dared you to makeout with huang renjun and your dumbfuck ass DID… i- I’M SORRY FOR THE DARE ??? BUT I I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT ?@?1)*;&2(#1%$?!/ 😭😭 NANA PLEASE DON’T KILL ME ;A;

guanheng aka devil 👹 — 01:47 YANG NANA YOU DID NOT YOU FUCKING MADE OUT WITH HUANG RENJUN ??? IN FRONT OF EVERYONE AT MY PARTY???? OH MY GOD I NEVER KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME LMFAOO i am ACTUALLY WHEEZING btw i recorded it ;) Attachment: 1 video i’m sending this to everyone LMAOOOO

guanheng aka devil 👹 — 09:31Renjun’s at mine rn and he’s having a breakdown bc i told him what happened BSHKDSMSN help i’m trying not to laugh but it’s nOT WORKING

yangyang fake tsundere 😇 — 10:26you’re at my house rn (in case your hungover ass forgot <3) i just left to go buy you breakfast ok? do not call 119 today bc i’m not there :) i did NOT abandon you

Her face pales. 

She kissed Renjun last night? The Huang Renjun who she claims to hate so much?

Nana’s cheeks flush upon watching the video. 

Oh God. I’m fucked.

“Siyuan, this is all your fucking fault,” Nana whines, back at her favorite spot (or the rooftop). Her legs dangle off the side, and she kicks her feet around like a child as she frowns in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Nana,” she apologizes for the umpteenth time, handing Nana a cup of her favorite drink: roasted oolong milk tea with brown sugar boba, light sugar and no ice. 

Nana begrudgingly accepts, taking a sip and smiling at the taste. “I’ll forgive you after you buy me… hm, another twenty of these.”

But her smile soon fades again, remembering all the memories that she associated with the drink. 

“Nana? Earth to Nana,” Siyuan says, snapping her fingers in front of Nana’s face. 

Hearing the loud sound, she snaps back to reality and blinks away the memories, turning to face her friend. 

“What?” Nana asks. 

“I said,” she smirks. “Maybe you can use Renjun to get over Jaemin.”

She subconsciously flinches at the sound of his name. 

“I… well, I mean,” Nana stutters. “It’s not a bad idea?”

“Exactly!” she grins. “You hate him anyway. No strings attached, you know? What’s the worst that can happen— you guys hating each other more?”

Nana forces a grin onto her face. “I’ll… I’ll think about it, yeah.”

Why am I hesitating?

“Why think? You have such a good opportunity. If only you saw his face yesterday after the kiss… oho. He was staring at you like you were some angel,” Siyuan snickers. “Angel, my ass. Devil is more like it.”

Despite the pile of excuses lying on the tip of her tongue, Nana blurts out, “I’ll do it.”

Siyuan’s eyes widen comically, not expecting Nana to accept her poorly thought-out plan so easily, but she brushes it aside. 

“Step one,” she smirks. “Pair up with him in History today, and try to get him to like you. We have group projects starting today.”

“How do you know?”

“Hello? Did all that alcohol yesterday make you dumb?” Siyuan jokes. “I just had History first period.”

Nana gasps. “WAIT… Did you pair up with… with Guanheng?”

Her cheeks dust with pink at Nana’s accusation. “Well… maybe.”

Nana lets out a cackle. “I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it.”

“Shut up, Yang Nana!” Siyuan fumes in embarrassment. 

“Make me, Tang Siyuan!” Nana retorts with a smirk on her face, but it dies as she realizes a very important detail that could make her plan go very wrong. “Wait… but Chenle is in Renjun’s class! Won’t they pair up?”

Siyuan lets out a sharp exhale of mock offense. 

“I already have that sorted out, babygirl,” she rolls her eyes. “Who do you take me for? An idiot?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Nana teases. 

Siyuan pouts. “Hey! Sometimes?!”

“Nah, I changed my mind,” Nana says, with a shit-eating grin on her face, and pauses for good measure before continuing her thought. “All the time.”

Just as Siyuan opens her mouth to retort, the school bell rings loudly. 

“Gotta go— I have to go implement step one,” she snickers.

Throwing a teasing wink in her direction, Nana opens the door to the stairwell as a teacher yells from down below, “Are you guys on the roof? During school hours?”

Taking that as a cue to leave, Nana kicks the door open. The teacher to the entrance of the building as the two of them race down the stairs and exit through the back door of the building— just in time as they hear loud footsteps rushing up the staircase.

They collectively let out loud exhales of relief, before Siyuan gasps. 

“Nana, our bags are up there!”

“... Shit.”

They collectively groan, but Nana convinces Siyuan to go to their math class first. 

“It’s fine, I’m always in detention,” Nana grimaces. “Just tell the teacher I have, uh… period cramps.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but before she could get a single word out, they hear sounds of footsteps coming back down the staircase, and Nana shoves her away. 

“Go!” she mouths at Siyuan, who frowns but runs to class.

She heads back into the building, only to be confronted by her old biology teacher. 

“Yang Nana,” he sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

She doesn’t respond, keeping an emotionless expression on her face. 

He let out another sigh. “You just earned yourself a week of detention.”

“Cool,” Nana deadpans, before brushing past Mr. Han and walking up the staircase.

Mr. Han just blinks in confusion at the disrespect he had just witnessed— which, to be fair, was probably one of the only disrespectful actions he had ever seen from a student— but before he instinctively yells at her, he just shakes his head, lets out a sigh of disappointment, and exits the building.

Nana scrambles up the staircase, completely out of breath by the time she reaches the top, panting as she grabs the two backpacks and races back down.

“Pair up, everyone,” Mr. Yao announces lazily. “Find one person to work with— absolutely no groups of three.”

Renjun glances at Chenle, but he looks back at Renjun apologetically. “Sorry, I’m pairing up with Yifeng.”

He shoots Chenle a death glare, while scanning the classroom to find someone else who didn’t have a partner. 

And his stomach drops when he realizes that the only other person who seemed to be alone was Yang Nana— the devil incarnate.

“You’re such a traitor,” Renjun sighs dramatically to Chenle. “You owe me so much for this.”

With that, he walks over to where Nana is sitting in the back corner of the class. He tries not to blush as memories of the previous night flash before his eyes. 

“Oh wow, you’re voluntarily pairing up with me,” Nana deadpans, raising a singular eyebrow. “Class president got no friends left?”

Renjun resists the urge to fight back. 

“So you’re back to being a bitch after making out with me,” he blurts out. 

She lets out a mix of a scoff and a laugh at that, raising her eyebrows at his comment. 

“Oh darling, did you think I did that because I like you?” Nana snickers. “Too bad it was just a dare, then.”

Ignoring the completely dejected look on Renjun’s face, she pushes herself out of her chair and leaves the table to take the assignment from Mr. Yao.

Step one: failed, she sighs to herself. Nana clenches her jaw in annoyance. Why do I even need him to like me? 

“Can I have your WeChat username, at least?” Renjun sighs as she returns with one packet of instructions, haphazardly tossing it onto his desk. 

“What, you want to take me out?” she smirks. 

“In your dreams,” he manages to retort. “No, you idiot, it’s for the goddamn project.”

“That would be in my nightmares,” she scoffs. “I’m starting to think you purposely made your friend pair up with that girl so you could pair up with me.”

Renjun sputters out indignantly at her sarcastic jab, and Nana just tuts condescendingly as she grabs his open phone and punches her WeChat username into his phone harshly.

As the sound of the school bell pierces through the chattering noises in the classroom, she drops his phone into his lap indifferently, grabs her bag, and is the first to exit the room.

iv. alexa, play any random song. wait— no, NOT PPAP

huang renjun — 15:28hi it’s renjun when are you free to work on the project together

Nana scoffs at the notification, but as soon as she picks up her phone to respond, her coworker, Dejun, tells her to go take the order of the new customers. 

Stuffing her phone into her apron pocket, she stands behind the cashier table. 

“Hi, welcome to Wei Shen Cafe— oh, it’s you,” her fake smile disappears in an instant as she glowers at Renjun and Chenle standing across from her. “What do you want, nerd? Are you following me?”

“You wish,” Renjun snaps back. “This is one of the most popular cafes around here, you aren’t fucking special.”

“Hurry up and order,” Chenle groans. 

But Renjun just ignores him, and continues pestering Nana. 

“Aren’t you rich, Yang Nana? I wouldn’t think you’d be working at a cafe like this,” he prods, trying to get a reaction out of her. 

But luckily, before she could open her mouth and cause a huge scene in the cafe (and maybe get fired if her boss comes out), Dejun comes to her rescue. 

“What would you like? As you can see, there’s a long line behind you,” he tells Renjun plainly. “Please leave or order now.”

Chenle sighs in embarrassment, pushing Renjun aside as he orders two drinks hurriedly, pulling him to a table to sit down at. 

“Thanks,” she mutters to Dejun, and he gasps mockingly. 

“The Yang Nana? Saying something nice to me??” He gapes teasingly. “No problem. He was being a jerk anyway. Like, who does he think he is?! Commenting about you and what you do with your money like that? What an asshole.”

“You can say that again,” Nana sighs, resisting the urge to spit in the matcha latte she was making for Renjun. 

huang renjun — today at 16:03when do you get off your shift

Nana just rolls her eyes, changing his name in her WeChat.

now watch me na(e)na(e) has changed huang renjun’s nickname to bitchboy extraordinaire

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 16:07none of your goddamn business, bitchface

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 16:07i’ll ignore that nicknamei’m fucking waiting for you right now when do you get off

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 16:12oh, you’re waiting? how sweet. i literally get off at 1am let’s see how long you can wait

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 16:13what…. doesn’t wei shen close at 10 ?? you’re fucking lying

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 16:20what’s it to you? we don’t need to see each other to work on this project anyway fuck off. go do it yourself you don’t have 8 hours of work like me every day

With that, she slips her phone into her back pocket and ignores the notifications buzzing from it.

Days pass, and the only thing on Renjun’s mind is her. The only thing he can think about is Yang Nana, that fucking stupid kiss, and the way his heart feels like it's about to beat out of his chest when he even catches a glimpse of her anywhere. 

He’s fallen for her, and he hates it. Renjun knows that Nana doesn’t give a shit about him, so why does he still like her? 

And why did she even hate him? 

He feels like he’s going insane. He malfunctions every time she talks to him, and all of their flirty teasing is starting to get to him. His face fires up whenever she calls him darling, whenever she even smirks at him. 

Renjun’s infatuated with her, and there’s nothing he can do but forget about it, and hope it’ll go away. Or confess, and inevitably get his heart broken. 

“Fuck you, Yang Nana,” he mutters to himself.

Shaking his head and sighing at himself, Renjun goes back to studying— only to be interrupted by another notification, and his eyebrows raise, seeing that it’s from Nana. 

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 11:51okay it’s a saturday so i don’t have that much work since you’re so fucking annoying, when do you want to work on the stupid project

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 11:53 have you ever considered that i might be busy

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 11:54 no if you’re “busy” then go do the damn project yourself

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 11:55have i ever mentioned that i hate your guts

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 11:57 yes many times like i said you can kiss my ass. i don’t give a shit.

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 11:58fuck you

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 11:58i know you want that anyways show up at 2pm at my house, or i will commit arson on your ass whenever i see you next

Renjun is left choking on his own spit at her very obvious sexual innuendo.

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 12:01 i don’t even know where you live

But his message goes ignored, and he sighs out a deep breath of annoyance. 

Yang Nana, stop fucking with my head, will you?

Two hours later, Renjun receives a message with her address, and he looks down at Nana’s message and the apartment building he found himself in front of. 

Floor 12, he reads. Room 7.

“No elevator?!” he cries out, his eyes staring at the dusty blue stairs with paint peeling off of them, the worn-out wood, and the rusty handlebar. 

I guess I’m climbing twelve flights of stairs, he sighs to himself, 

By the time he reaches the top, he feels like he’s done his brother’s leg workout, wiping sweat accumulating on his forehead. He pants out in exhaustion, taking his water bottle out of his bag and gulping down half of it to quench the sandpaper consistency his throat had started to resemble. 

Finding Nana’s apartment was also a challenge, since there were no room number labels on the walls; and he finds himself knocking on her door at 2:20 pm. 

“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find your place,” Renjun blurts out, mentally cursing himself for even bothering to apologize. “And why are there no elevators in this big ass apartment building? Are you really so poor that you need to live at such a worn-down—“

He doesn’t finish his thought before Nana grabs him by the collar and pulls him into her apartment harshly. 

“Have you realized that not everyone is as rich as you?!” she snaps angrily. “Why are you even here if you care so much? If you didn’t want to work with me, you wouldn’t have even come here. So what’s your fucking problem, Huang?”

He falls silent. 

“I’m— I,” he stumbles over his words. “I was just surprised, sorry. I didn’t know you were… you were… ” 

“Poor. I know, I’m pretty fucking poor,” she sneers, rolling her eyes as she grabs his wrist and leads her towards her room. 

He tries to stop asking so many questions, but when he notices the empty house, he opens his mouth to speak again. 

“Yes, I live alone,” she snips tiredly. 

His mouth closes. 

“What happened to your parents?” Renjun asks. 

He knows that he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but be curious— realizing that there was a lot he didn’t know about Nana than he had thought.

But she remains silent, and he takes that as a cue to stop talking.

Stupid, they both think, but for different reasons. 

“Alexa, play any random song,” Nana says to her Amazon Echo that Yangyang had gifted her a few years ago. 

“Generating a random song,” Alexa says, shuffling a list of songs. “Playing: Pen Pineapple Apple Pen, long version.”

Nana resists the urge to unplug and throw the device against the wall, as the man sings, “I have a pen, I have an apple… uh. Apple Pen. I have a pen, I have pineapple… uh. Pineapple P—“

“Wait—” she groans out at the sound. “No, NOT PPAP. Alexa, shut the fuck up.”

”If only it were that easy to get an Apple Pen,” she mutters.

Renjun lets out a snicker at that.

Around three hours of bickering, arguing and yelling later, Nana stands up. 

“I need to go to work— good luck with the rest,” she informs him, closing her laptop and standing up to open her closet to grab her work bag and supplies. “I did way more work than you, since you were arguing with me and staring at me for most of the time, so… it’s not my work anymore. Go research about that stupid guy, and finish the presentation.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows at her clothing collection as she opens the door. 

“If you’re so poor, how do you have Gucci—” he starts, but he’s cut off by Nana. 

“Gifts,” she sighs out in frustration. “So many goddamn questions, you fuckface. Stop being so nosy, will you?”

With that, she grabs his laptop, shoves it into his backpack, and pushes it into his chest. 

“Get out.”

As soon as they exit her apartment, Nana turns around and locks the door behind her. 

“How do you get down to the lobby?” he asks. 

“With the stairs,” she deadpans. 

Renjun groans at the thought of going back down the stairs. “It’s not that bad. I used to live on the 20th floor.”

“What happened, though?” he asks again, as they begin down the stairs. 

“Why do you need to know?” she retorts. 

“Because…” he starts, fumbling over his words. “Because, I… I want to know. I think we didn’t start off too right—”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she snaps. “I don’t think we’re that close to justify me spilling to you my whole life story, though.”

“Maybe another day, when I don’t find you an asshole and a half,” she finishes. 

He mutters something under his breath, but Nana doesn’t hear it— nor is she interested in knowing. 

“Where were you from 2pm to 5pm, young man?” his mother questions as soon as she walks into the house, locking her Tesla and sitting down to eat dinner— a very late dinner.

Renjun freezes at her angry tone, sitting in front of his now cold food. “I was working on a project with a friend.”

“Chenle?” she asks. “He says that you weren’t at his house.”

“Not Chenle,” he replies. “Another person in my class.”

His mother tsks. “Show me the work you two did.”

He obliges, bending down to unzip his backpack and show her the presentation. 

She scoffs (probably at the lack of criticism she can give).

“Why has your school ranking dropped from number 3 to number 4?” she snaps angrily. “What did I tell you about staying in the top three, huh?”

“Only getting an 89 on your chemistry test,” she seeths angrily. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?!”

Renjun’s eyes prick with tears upon the mention of his perfect brother.

“Your brother was so much better than you,” she yells. “He was so perfect. Everyone loved him, he was both popular and smart, getting everything he ever thought about having.

“What about you?! You just managed to snag the title of ‘Student Body President’, because there were no good candidates to choose from! You don’t get good grades, your teachers don’t love you as much, why are you such a failure?! I pay for your tutoring, your extra classes, and you still can’t do well?” she screams. “Why are you so useless? Wasting my money— I knew it was a mistake to have another child.”

Renjun’s tears drip into the broth of his noodles. 

“Stop crying, you fool!” she barks at him. “Does that solve anything for you?!”

He sniffles, slamming his chopsticks down onto the table as he grabs a tissue to wipe at his tears. 

“Why do you do this to me?!” Renjun sobs. “I try so hard to please you, and yet you’re still not happy.”

His mother swallows, sighing as she realizes she went too far.

“I was missing your brother,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, Renjun— I have been going to therapy, but nothing stops the anger.”

But Renjun was done with her excuses. “That doesn’t mean you can just release it all on me. I’m not your punching bag, Ma.”

He glances at the clock but ignores how close it is to midnight— grabbing his coat and phone.

“Going out for a walk,” he mumbles, running out the door and out into the neighborhood.

He tries to ignore his mother’s stupid words, wiping at the stray tears falling from his face. 

I try so hard to be perfect for you, Ma, since Ba left and Ge stays at university, Renjun sighs to himself. Why don’t you ever see it, though?

He checks his phone, sighing as he realizes that it’s already past midnight. 

Oh well, I can always go to the 24-hour convenience store, right?

He approaches the store, the bells on the dore jingling as he enters. 

“Hello, welcome go 24/7— wait, what the fuck are you doing here?” a familiar voice speaks with annoyance. 

Renjun looks up from the shelves, staring incredulously at Yang Nana, working behind the cashier table. 

“I’m… why are you everywhere?!” he snaps. 

“Why are you stalking me?!” she retorts.

“I’m not fucking stalking you! I just left to get some fresh air, and you’re everywhere I go!” he yells. “Forget it.”

But his red and puffy weary eyes don’t go ignored by Nana. Before he can leave the store, she walks around the cashier table and grabs his wrist, pulling him back in and shutting the door behind them. 

“What’s wrong.” 

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

He gulps. “Why should I tell you, when you never tell me anything?”

She exhales harshly through her nose. “That’s besides the point. Why were you crying?”

“My mom,” he manages to utter out, and the tears begin welling up in his eyes again. She tosses him a pack of tissues, while choosing a ramen flavor for him as he speaks. 

“She’s never been the same since my parents divorced,” he manages to explain. 

And once he starts talking, everything spills out of his mouth. 

“My brother is two years older than me,” he explains. “He left the country to the United States for university, and he hasn’t come back to visit since. But because he isn’t here anymore, my mom starts to think so highly of him. He was an average child, but now, in her eyes, he was perfect. He was perfect, because for his whole life before college, my parents were together.”

“Today, she was just spewing lies about how good my brother was, that just weren’t true, and making me feel like shit,” he sniffles, as hot tears run down his cold face. “Like I don’t try hard or something. Like it’s easy to be in the top five student grades.”

By the time he’s done explaining, Nana’s already prepared two bowls of instant ramen and two cups of boba milk tea.

“I’m sorry about that,” Nana says, and that’s the first kind thing that Renjun’s ever heard Yang Nana say to him. 

“You’re… you’re being nice,” he gasps, clearing his throat and sniffling as he presses tissues to his leaking eyes.

Nana rolls her eyes. “No, I’m only capable of being mean,” she deadpans. “Here, eat the ramen. And the boba milk tea.”

He thanks her as he opens his bowl of instant ramen. 

“Salted egg ramen?” Renjun gapes. “How did you know that was my favorite?”

“I didn’t. It’s my favorite.”

They sit across from each other and eat instant ramen together. 

“Why are you working so late?” he asks. 

“I need a lot of money, Renjun,” she smiles wryly. “If school is a third of my day, work is the second third of my day. I study at night, and I get up early for a shift before school. I live off of caffeine.”

He gasps at her hellish schedule. “Why, though? Why do you need so much money?”

“Because I don’t have parents anymore.”

The words take a few moments to sink in. 

“Oh, God. That’s why you hate me,” Renjun sighs. “I’m… Nana, I’m so sorry.”

She manages a pained smile, resisting the urge to punch him as she remembers the bitter memory. “It’s… fine.”

“But it’s not. I had no idea, Nana,” he says apologetically. “When did it happen?”

“Seven years ago.”

He gasps. “You… you were only ten.”

She only lets out a forced laugh. 

“And my dad left when I was twelve. He claimed that I caused him too much pain because I look almost identical to her.”

Renjun lets out a noise of indignation. “How could he?! Just leaving a child like that?!”

“Because my mom died of cancer, there’s a shit ton of hospital bills to pay,” she scoffs. “And because my dad’s gone, I have to pay them now. I watched as the bills were mailed to our house month after month, with a stupid amount of debt printed on each sheet. Given that we already weren’t rich at all, it was nearly impossible to pay it off… I know my dad left because the debt was too much.”

He scoffs at this. “How could your father feel okay with leaving a child by herself?!”

“He thinks it’s fine, because he covers the rent for my apartment,” she seethes. “What about food? What about the debt? He didn’t care. As long as I had a place to stay, he thought it was fine. So I had to leech off of neighbors for three years, until I was legally allowed to work.”

She takes a long sip of her drink afterwards. 

“You’re the second person I’ve ever told,” she admits. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you.”

Renjun smirks suggestively. “Oh my, is the Yang Nana warming up to me?” he gasps mockingly. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Nana raises a single eyebrow, the expression on her face unreadable. “You wish.”

And before he could ask what she meant by that, her coworker comes in for his shift, and Nana tells him that she has to leave. Taking off her uniform and grabbing her bag, she leaves the store, and gets onto her bike to go home.

v. huang renjun, master of the claw machine (yes, i’m kidding. he fucking sucks)

“You invited Renjun to your apartment yesterday?!” Siyuan and Yangyang collectively gasp scandalously. 

“Oh my God, Nana, why didn’t you tell me? What did you guys do?” Siyuan gapes, nearly quivering with excitement. 

“Nothing interesting,” Nana rolls her eyes. “We just… worked on the History project.”

“You need to take him out on a date,” Siyuan declares, taking a sip of her strawberry slushie that they had gone to buy during the second class of the day. 

Yangyang clicks his tongue apprehensively, mixing his mango slushie. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to have a rebound after Jaemin and do it to Renjun on purpose.”

“No, it’s a great idea,” Siyuan interjects. “You don’t understand. After getting some dick, Nana will be happy again. “

Nana cringes at her in disgust, as she takes a sip of her lemon slushie. “Well… I do find it kinda rude to just play with Renjun’s feelings like that, but maybe talking to him will get That Dickface off of my mind.”

“It’s up to you, Nana,” Yangyang says. “Don’t feel pressured just because Siyuan changes boys every other day and clearly doesn’t care about any one of them.”

“Hey! I just sleep with different boys,” she defends herself. “They know what they’re getting into. So… erm, yeah— maybe it’s not a great idea to be an asshole to Renjun.”

“But one last dare, Nana,” Siyuan continues, her eyes sparkling. “I dare you to take Huang Renjun out on a date. Last dare, I promise.”

Nana tsks. “That’s easy, the boy’s already infatuated with me.”

And as a teacher yells at the three of them yet again for being on the roof without permission, the trio speeds down the staircase and split up in different directions to their respective classes.

Nana runs into her history class, grimacing as she realizes the only available seat is next to Renjun in the front. 

Gives me the chance to ask him out, though, she smirks to herself, waltzing up to the empty seat and settling in, around 30 minutes late to the period. 

“Yang Nana, do you realize that you’ve missed about half of class?” Mr. Han reprimands. 

She just shrugs, unfazed. “Yeah.”

With that, she stuffs one of her wired earbuds into her right ear, pushing the end of the cord into her phone with too many scratches and cracks on the screen to count. 

Starting a random song from her playlist, she lazily watches Mr. Han’s lecture, not even bothering to take notes— not that she could’ve, given she didn’t even bring anything school-related in her bag, besides her laptop.

“You’re all dismissed,” Mr. Han smiled amicably as the bell rang. As everyone stands up and begins chattering amongst themselves, Renjun turns to look at Nana, who surprisingly had not bolted out the door yet. 

“You’re here,” he observes.

“No shit,” she deadpans.

He smirks. “Waiting for me?”

“In your fucking dreams,” Nana scoffs, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the class, as the rest of the people in the room gasp at the scene— utterly shocked, considering everyone knew of their hatred of each other. Renjun flushes with embarrassment, a grimace on his face. 

“Don’t do that,” he whines. “Now everyone thinks we’re dating!”

She stops abruptly, turning to face him with a smirk on her face. 

“Then let’s make their thoughts a reality,” Nana raises an eyebrow, sending him a wink. “Huang Renjun, do you want to go on a date with me later?”

Renjun swears that he felt his heart stop, as she notices his cheeks flush every shade of pink. 

“Uh,” he says intelligently. “Um… ”

Nana presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m taking that as a ‘Yes, Nana, I love you— I mean, I’d love to!’”

He freezes as her lips meet his. 

“I’ll text you,” she winks, and with that, Yang Nana walks away from him. 

“Fuck, I am in love,” he groans, as his worst nightmare comes true.

But is it really a nightmare?

“Ooooh, did I just see Yang Nana ask you out on a date?” Chenle gasps, a shit-eating grin widening on his face as he appears out of nowhere, slinging an arm over Renjun’s shoulder. “You like Nana?? I thought it’d be Yiren.”

Renjun wrinkles his nose in embarrassment. “No, I hate her, dumbass. That’s why I said yes.”

“You didn’t say yes, though,” Chenle observes. “But you didn’t say no, either… I was trying not to laugh when I saw you just fucking standing there without responding. Ha, I’d take that as a yes if I were Yang Nana too.”

Renjun cringes. “Whatever, we’re going home.”

“No we’re not,” he smirks. “I’m taking you shopping because you need to look HOT for the date. You have zero fashion sense, my boy… I’m going to need to buy you some better clothes. C’mon, I’ll tell my driver that we’re going shopping!”

That’s all Renjun hears before Chenle drags him away to the parking lot in an attempt to find his chauffeur— he’s nearly shoved into the fancy Tesla car with chicken-wing-looking car doors.

“Mr. Teng, we’re going to the mall,” Chenle informs his driver. 

His chauffeur glances at Chenle from the rearview mirror and nods, before leaving. 

Renjun’s phone vibrates with a notification, and he unlocks his phone to see a new message from Nana. 

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 16:32 meet me in an hour at neo arcade

A lovesick grin spreads across Renjun’s face, and Chenle snatches his phone. 

“An hour?!” Chenle squawks, looking at the time and addressing his driver. “Fuck. Mr. Teng, how far are we from the mall?”

“About twenty minutes,” he responds.

“How far is the arcade from the mall?” Chenle mutters to himself as he opens his Maps app. “Okay, only ten minutes. But we still only have an hour… Renjun, search up the store list, we need to have a good outfit in mind.”

A little less than sixty minutes later, Renjun enters Neo Arcade in the best outfit out of the choices that Chenle presented him with. 

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he messages Nana. 

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 17:28 i’m here

He half hated the way his heart pounded at the almost instant reply from her.

now watch me na(e)na(e) — today at 17:30be there in 2

When did two minutes, or 120 seconds, feel so long? Renjun fidgets with his jacket, stares expectantly at the door, and scrolls through his Weibo— but nothing successfully distracts him in the time he waits for Nana. 

He forgets to breathe when he sees Nana walk through the door; although casual, she still looked stunning. 

She had a black bucket hat on her head, a thick silver chain around her neck, wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top, red jean shorts and a pair of heeled white lace-up boots that went halfway up her calf. 

When her eyes meet his, his mouth is still open but he closes it, walking towards her. 

He doesn’t notice her eyes raking up and down his body, internally screaming at his new outfit; a green bomber jacket on top of a beige and brown striped tee, and a belt holding his denim jeans up. 

Since when did Huang Renjun have such good taste in fashion?

“Wow, you look decent,” she manages to say. “Someone help you with your outfit?”

Nana doesn’t glance at his expression, looping her arm through his, but his cheeks are stained red with embarrassment. 

Was it that obvious?

Noticing his silence, she erupts into laughter. “I’m just kidding. You look great.”

Renjun tries not to let out a breath of relief. 

“You look good, too.”

Nana snickers. “You just noticed? Do I not always look good?”

Before he can respond, she drags him to the racing game, sitting onto the seat. 

“Let’s race. Loser has to get a stuffed animal from the claw machine,” she smirks. 

“Hey, I’m not good at these!” Renjun protests, and it only makes Nana’s cheshire-like grin grow wider. 

“Even better.”

“Didn’t know that Yang Nana, a certified bad girl, would like stuffed animals, but okay.”

She gives him a pointed look. “Everyone likes stuffed animals,” she responds seriously, turning her car to the right to crash into Renjun’s, and his car falls down the edge of the trail, causing him to restart. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” he protests, a pout on his face as he drops to 10th place in the game.

“Nothing’s fair,” she snickers as she corners the person in front of her into the cliff, cheering as she ends up in first place. 

“You owe me a stuffed animal, and I get to choose.”

Sliding off of the chair, she extends her hand to Renjun, who begrudgingly takes it and steps off. 

“So you’re bad at racing games and beer pong,” she tuts sarcastically. “Disappointing. What a red flag”

Before he can retort, Nana pushes him lightly towards the claw machines. 

“Okay, fine. What type do you want?” Renjun sighs. 

“Squirtle.”

Renjun grimaces, walking towards the claw machine full of Squirtle plushies. 

Inserting a few coins into the machine, his eyes narrow in on a specific Squirtle, and he moves the claw hand to the right via the controller. He squints at the aim as he presses down on the button, the claw reaching down for the leg of a specific Squirtle. 

Unfortunately, the Squirtle drops from the claw, and Renjun slumps in defeat. 

Nana just lets out a snicker. “Try again, babe.”

The tips of his ears involuntarily turn red at the pet name, but he sighs and inserts another two coins into the machine. 

Nana silently takes out her phone to record this, silently laughing at his effort— and he visibly deflates at the failed attempt. 

Determined to win Nana a Squirtle and not look like an idiot, he wastes more money and moves the controller, focusing on the biggest squirtle— hey, a bigger Squirtle means more area to hold, right?

No luck. The claw grabs the poor Squirtle by the neck, but it ultimately drops, and Renjun’s ears grow redder by the second. 

“This stupid machine,” Renjun frowns, pushing yet another pair of coins, while Nana does her absolute best to not erupt into laughter, her camera still directed in his direction. 

After a few more failures, his face lights up as he thinks of a new strategy.

“Maybe I should go for the tag,” he smiles as he presses down on his controller, causing the claw to reach down onto the back of the Squirtle’s neck, where the stuffed animal’s neck-piercing (... neck-ring?)— in the form of a tag— lay.

Renjun’s face lights up as the next Squirtle victim is dragged across the pile of other Squirtles. 

He’s about to push over the claw machine in frustration when the claw rips the tag off of the plastic loop on the neck cleanly. 

But Renjun lets out a cry of excitement as he realizes the stuffed animal had landed headfirst across the collecting tunnel, ultimately tipping over into the slot down below due to the imbalance. His cheeks dust with embarrassment as other people in the arcade cast judgmental looks towards him.

Nana stifles a laugh, stopping the stop button on her phone as she discreetly stuffs it into her jeans pocket.

“Only wasted 10 yuan too,” Renjun grins as he pulls the Squirtle out of the machine, handing it to Nana with a proud expression on his face.

She looks thoroughly impressed. 

“Wow, so maybe you’re not bad at everything. Kinda bad, though,” she teases, grabbing the Squirtle from Renjun’s hands in one hand, and taking his hand in the other.

“You get to choose the next game.” Nana offers generously.

“Basketball,” he smirks, pulling her towards the basketball hoop game. 

She visibly cringes. 

“Shit.”

“Loser has to kiss the other person,” he raises his eyebrows. 

“What about the winner?” Nana scoffs. 

“Well, uh… they get the kiss?”

“Darn, so anti-climatic.”

And Renjun presses the “START GAME” button without warning, causing her to sputter out in disbelief. 

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Nana protests, grabbing a basketball and surprisingly making it into the hoop.

“You cheated earlier too!” Renjun retorts, as Nana manages to get a few more in.

“Did not,” she grumbles, missing a ball, staring at her pathetic score of “8” and at Renjun’s “16”.

She pouts as she misses yet another hoop, and another. The ding of Renjun’s scorekeeper display— signaling that he got another ball in— only lowers her confidence as the game ends, with her at a measly 23 points while Renjun stood at 32.

Nana scoffs at her clear loss. 

“So… looks like you owe me a kiss, sweetheart,” he smirks as he leans towards her, a suggestive grin on his face.

“You can get one any time, loverboy,” she smirks. “You don’t need to impress me…. you just have to ask.”

His eyes widen, and so does her smirk as her hot breath tickles her face. 

She pushes Renjun against the nearest wall, pressing her lips against his.

His mind goes back to their first kiss at that party as her lips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he kisses her back. 

But she pulls back before a makeout session starts, and he whines at the absence of her lips on his. 

“Gotta win more games to get another one, hm?” Nana cocks a singular eyebrow, grabbing her Squirtle and moving to another game, leaving Renjun behind in a daze. 

Again.

vi. dumb and dumbass. renjun’s the dumbass.

It had been a whole month since Renjun and Nana had (un)officially started dating, yet Nana had refused to put a label on it.

Even though Nana was saved as “nana gf 🦋” for Renjun, he was still saved as “dumbfuck 🔪” and she had a tendency to dodge every personal question that he’d ever asked— that is, since the time they opened up to each other a little in the 24/7. 

To be honest, he was jealous of her. He admired the way she could mask her pain and become so indifferent— stoic, even— to everything, and wished that he could be that way. 

Renjun wished that instead of being so easy to crack open, like an egg, he could hide away. It didn’t take much for him to open up to others, while he couldn’t even pry another sentence of information from her.

But he hated it. He hated the way Nana seemed not to care. 

Does she even like me?

“Nana, can we hang out again?” Renjun asks, while Nana walks with him out of History. 

“Hmm,” Nana hms. “Maybe next week.”

She doesn’t miss the way his face falls. “I’m sorry, but I have a lot of work.”

Renjun pouts. “Fine,” he says childishly and leaves her side to enter his own classroom.

She watches as he leaves, and sighs as she continues on her way to the rooftop, a hand reaching for her lighter and cigarette, and her other reaching for her phone with earphones plugged into it. 

Nana climbs the stairs with regret as she lights a cigarette, knowing that her time with Renjun was limited. 

“Gosh, I’m so stupid,” she grumbles. “This is just stupid— literally the plot to a shitty coming-of-age movie.”

She was so closed off to others that no one really knew what was going on in her life. Not Siyuan. Not even Yangyang. And she hated it. Nana despised the way she pushed everyone away from her. 

She was consumed with the consequences of her bad decisions, and she knew that one day, she wouldn’t be able to hide. 

Nana’s so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t even notice a familiar motorcycle passing by.

“Yang Nana, we meet again, at last,” a cold voice utters out, letting out a sinister chuckle. “You won’t be able to run again. We need the money.” 

She freezes at the sound of the voice, and her instinct is to run— but he’s right. She can’t; not with a gun pressed to the back of her head.

“Money, Yang,” he hisses, pressing the cold metal even harsher against her head. 

“I— I don’t have it on me.”

“Then let’s get going, hm? To your house, shall we?” 

“Only if you let the gun go. Someone’s going to call the police if they see this.”

Squinting at her, he reluctantly lowers his hand— falling directly into her trap as she kicks her leg up high and strong, the tip of her boot hitting his jaw. 

He spits out a mouth full of blood, a hand cupping his jaw as he winces. 

“You— Yang Nana!” He screams, lifting the gun again, but she swiftly grabs it by the barrel and turns it onto him. 

“Oh, looks like you’re going to need some help, hm?” she tuts. 

“Yang… you will pay… ” he croaks out, but she only scoffs, grabbing him by the forearm and twisting it backwards, socking him in the gut with the gun. 

“We’ll see about that,” she sneers, watching as he falls to the ground, and kicks him in the ribs for good measure. 

“Say hi to your boss for me,” Nana smirks, dropping his gun down the sewer. 

“I am about to gag at you two,” Siyuan cringes at the sight of Renjun and Nana holding hands.

“Me too,” Yangyang says in disgust.

“See you later, Renjun,” Nana waves as he turns around to walk home. 

Yangyang raises a brow at the sight. “You’re not walking him home?”

“I don’t need to spend every minute with him,” Nana deadpans. “Also, I have work.”

The smile on his face drops upon hearing her words, but he doesn’t turn around.

Yangyang scoffs. “That’s a little harsh.”

“You and Renjun— literally dumb and dumbass, except Renjun’s the dumbass,” Siyuan sighs. “You’re supposed to spend more time with him, idiot.”

Renjun walks home from school alone, a frown on his face while he ponders about Nana. 

Why is she so confusing? I never understand her, he thinks to himself with a sigh. 

But when he’s a little more than halfway home, he feels the sensation of being followed. Renjun panics, his heart pounding against his chest, as he grabs his sunglasses from his backpack, to see three people unsubtly trailing him, all dressed in different variations of a beanie, leather or denim jackets and ripped jeans. 

Yikes, scary, he gulps to himself, trying to walk faster, but the people behind him notice and run to catch up with him. 

Before he could try to get away, they pass him and stop abruptly, turning back to face him. 

“You?” The one in the center scoffs as the other two corner Renjun against a fence. “Wow, Nana really moved on with a fucking loser.”

“You know Nana?” Renjun asks in confusion. “Wait, who are you guys?”

“What do you think, you idiot?” he hisses. “I’d beat you up so bad, but that’s not really an option… Nana would just come and beat me back.”

“I’m Jaemin, the one with a red beanie is Haechan, and the other one is Jeno,” Jaemin introduces plainly.

He nods and gives a small smile as a welcome, but none of them return it.

“How— how do you know her?” Renjun croaks out, intimidated by Jeno and Haechan’s glares blazing into him. 

“We dated. But she broke up with me,” Jaemin scoffs. “All because my fling decided to text her. What an idiot.”

Renjun’s jaw drops. “How is she an idiot?! She was doing the right thing by telling Nana!”

“Oh, of course you’re sticking around for that girl, loverboy,” Jeno sneers. “You don’t know even a smidge of what she’s hiding underneath, boy. Can’t you tell that she’s bad news? What’s a dork like you doing around her?”

Renjun flinches at the same nickname that Nana had called him at the arcade.

“We— we’re dating,” Renjun stutters out.

“Are you now,” Haechan drawls out with a cocked eyebrow. “Nana does move quickly, hm?”

“Shut up, you idiots,” Jaemin snaps angrily. “Let me fucking talk.”

He pushes past Jeno and Haechan and stares directly into Renjun’s eyes. 

“You don’t know Nana. I’m doing you a favor here— she’s a thief, a liar, a manipulator. She’s not what she seems, and she’s involved with criminals, Huang Renjun. You need to run, or they’ll get you before her.”

Renjun’s eyes widen. “What— how do you know?”

“What do you think?” Jaemin sighs. “We broke up a month ago. And I was once captured by them. I’m saying this for your safety. Renjun, get as far as you can away from Yang Nana, because the people she’s with are dangerous. They can ruin your life, like they did to mine.”

Tears begin to well up in Renjun’s eyes as he’s struck with betrayal. 

“Nana— she wouldn’t,” he says desperately. “Nana can’t be like that, she… ” 

He trails off. As much as he hated to admit it, Jaemin’s claims somewhat lined up with Nana’s behavior— her refusals to spend time with him, her being “busy with work” all the time. 

No, she couldn’t… 

“And I know why she even went after you,” Jaemin adds, to add salt to the wound. “I was at a bar the other day, and hooked up with her friend Siyuan— who’s such a whore— and guess what? Siyuan told me the plan they came up with. Renjun, the truth is that she only dated you to get over me.”

Those words impale Renjun’s heart, and he’s left broken and confused. 

“Nana… no, this can’t be… ”

“I’m only trying to help you, Renjun. Please consider it,” Jaemin says with a fakely apologetic smile, and motions for Jeno and Haechan to follow him as they leave. 

Leaving Renjun in tears.

“That was a little harsh, Jaemin,” Haechan grins as soon as they’re out of earshot from Renjun. 

“Just need him away from Yang Nana,” Jaemin smirks. “She’s not allowed to be happy. Not without me.”

vii. can i set his dick on fire? please?

Nana flips her phone over near the end of her shift, pressing the pad of her finger to the fingerprint sensor to unlock her phone. 

A smile grows on her face, eager to see the message as she sees that it was from Renjun. 

bitchboy extraordinaire — today at 00:07 you’re such a fucking liar i never want to see you again

Blood drains from her face as she frantically picks through her memories, trying to remember what she had done wrong.

But ultimately, she didn’t remember what she had done. 

Nor did she respond to his accusation, deciding to finish her homework, and passing out on her bed immediately afterwards. 

Nana had no idea what she had done wrong. 

Why did Renjun get so mad? 

She kept thinking about what could’ve happened, yet she still came back empty-handed, unable to find anything she had lied to him about. 

During their lunch break, Nana waits outside of Renjun’s classroom, making sure she could corner him and ask. 

Sure enough, he comes out a few minutes later, but attempts to run once he sees Nana standing near him expectantly. 

Nana easily corners him into a wall. 

“Renjun, what did I do?”

He gapes at her incredulously. 

“You’re asking me?! You’re trying to ruin my life!” Renjun exclaims angrily. 

Nana only stands there, staring at him in confusion. 

“I don’t know where you got that from, but I promise you that I do not take pleasure in ruining lives. Nor do I have the power to do such a thing,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snaps. “I know everything now.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Please, enlighten me. What knowledge have you acquired to make you hate me this much?”

“I ran into your ex yesterday,” Renjun blurts out, and Nana’s stare turns icy.

“Oh no, he didn’t,” she mutters. “That fucker.”

“Yeah? He told me that you’re using me. He told me that you’re involved with a lot of criminals that will find out about me and ruin my life. And that you got a bet to date me,” he accuses, getting more and more emotional as he reveals all the information. “From Siyuan, to get over Jaemin.”

“That fuckface,” Nana sneers, and Renjun swears that he’s never seen her so angry. “If you really believe the words of a fucking liar, a fucking manipulator and gaslighter, go ahead and believe the words of that fucking asshole.”

She backs away from him, allowing him to scramble away. 

“But I will tell you the truth once,” she says. “I was only involved with criminals when I couldn’t make enough money, and they have never bothered Jaemin before. He only knows because I told him.”

“And, maybe it was a stupid dare to Siyuan, but it’s a shit ton more to me.”

With that, she walks away from Renjun with a heavy heart. 

He just watches her shaking form as she leaves his side, the regret hitting him in a huge wave. 

When Nana reaches Yangyang, he looks at her expression in concern. 

“What happened, Nana?”

She swallows the lump in her throat, hesitantly spilling everything out to him. 

Yangyang’s expression contorts from worry, to confusion, to rage.

“He did WHAT?!” He yells out loudly. “Oh my God. The next time I see his pretty face, I’m going to smash it in so his face is concave—”

“Yangyang, no,” Nana sighs, her head in her hands. “That’s…. ”

But she couldn’t find a good reason to reject his proposal, knowing she’d do the same if someone else had done this to Yangyang. 

“Can I set his dick on fire? Please?” he frowns. “I am not going to stand and watch two assholes ruin your life. No. That’s not going to be okay.”

Nana’s eyes fill with tears for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity. 

“Nana, no—” Yangyang panics, reaching through his bag to look for a tissue, but unable to find a single one. 

Taking off his hoodie, he lets out a breath of relief knowing that he had washed his hoodie the day before, dabbing the sweatshirt sleeves at her eyes. 

“It’ll be okay, Nana,” he says, wrapping his arms around her shaking form. “Don’t cry— that goody-two-shoes ain’t worth your tears.”

“But he is,” she cries, feeling her heart crush with all the pain. “He’s the first time I’ve felt love in a very long time.”

“And he’s a fucking dumbass,” she adds after a moment.

“Hey, Na Jaemin!” Nana yells at him. “I hope you choke on a fucking stick!”

Jaemin turns around with his signature fuckboy smirk. “Oh hi, Nana, long time no see!”

“I’m not interested in formalities,” she spits at him, decking him in the face without a second thought.

They both hear a loud crack coming from Jaemin’s face, and he winces in pain. He clutches his nose as blood trickles out of his nose, staining his hands, and dripping onto the ground. 

“I think you broke my nose,” he grunted out.

“I think so, too. I’m glad. That’s the least I could do after you ruined my life, twice. Go eat shit,” she snaps, kicking him in the stomach without remorse, and Jaemin crumples at the impact. 

“Nana, I just wanted you back,” he croaks out. “Please, give me ano—”

“Another chance?” Nana sneers. “Not after you cheated on me, dickface.”

She squats down in front of him, relishing the sight of Jaemin in such pain. Nana offers him her hand, and he eyes it suspiciously, but takes it despite the hesitation. 

“Oh, you thought I was going to help you up,” she coos. “How cute.”

And she bends his arm backwards, earning a pained howl from the boy.

“I hate you, Jaemin, and I will hate you forever. Stop meddling with my life and go fuck yourself.”

That’s the last thing Jaemin ever hears from her before blacking out.

viii. oh you’re keeping me hostage ?!

TWO YEARS LATER.

Nana doubles over in laughter at something her friend, Aiyun, said. 

“Please, that’s hilarious,” she shakes with laughter, wiping tears that spring from her eyes.

Just as Aiyun opens her mouth to say something, a boy their age taps on her shoulder. 

“Sorry, could I talk to your friend for a little bit?” He asks.

“Oh, go ahead,” Aiyun smiles, backing a few steps away. 

Nana looks up to see his face— and her spirits drop. Her gaze hardens at the sight of him, and the previously wide smile on her face drops immediately, replaced with a straight line. The sparkle in her eyes fade, and she looks him up and down in disgust.

“What are you doing here?” Nana snaps. 

“I just—” he sighs. 

“Stop it. Just go,” she says.

“Wait!” Renjun exclaims as she turns away, and Nana swivels her head to look back at him. 

“Huang Renjun, what do you fucking want?”

“I’m sorry.”

Nana remains expressionless for a few moments, before she forces out a laugh. 

“You’re about two years late for that.”

“No, wait!” Renjun says, instinctively grabbing onto her arm as she turns away from him again, but this time, he’s met with an icy stare. 

“Let go, Huang Renjun.”

He obliges, wincing at her tone, but before he can get another word out, Nana stops him. 

“I’ve moved on, Renjun. A long time ago. Now there’s someone that loves me without doubt. We would’ve never worked out, Huang Renjun. You’re a fool who believes the words of strangers before even trying to know the whole story.

“I don’t want to see you anymore. And the party is ending, I’m leaving,” she adds.

“Nana! There you are,” Yangyang says, making his way over to her, slinging an arm over her shoulder. 

And he, too, glares coldly at the sight of Renjun. 

“What are you doing here?!” Yangyang scoffs.

“I transferred here,” Renjun responds. “Are you guys… dating now?”

Nana just shoots him an empty stare. 

“I have no obligation to tell you anything.”

The two of them walk away from him without another word. 

“Why didn’t you tell him that you’re doing a lot better than before?” Yangyang murmurs to her. “And that we’re dating?”

“I just hate his guts,” she shrugs. “But I can tell him we’re dating to make you feel better.”

Yangyang scoffs. “Like I care.”

A smirk grows on Nana’s face. “Aw, you’re jealous. That’s cute.”

Yangyang pouts, turning to the side to face her. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A cocky grin spreads onto Yangyang’s lips as he places a chaste kiss on her lips, effectively shutting her up.

“I wish I dated you instead of Jaemin and Renjun.”

“Me too, but you’re mine forever now.”

Nana gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, you’re keeping me hostage?!”

“Shut up.”

© lovedhyuck 2022. all rights reserved.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

racer!sapnap road head pog¿

pog.

this is kind of a subchapter ig bc nothing really happens to continue on the story but I figured I'd give it to you anyway :) im so down bad for him it’s embarrassing. if you know me irl no you don't 

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑. 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫!𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩

pairing: street racer!Sapnap x fm!reader

cw: oral (m. receiving), thigh riding, degradation (slightly), spit cum and rock and roll, language, semi-public sex, sir kink?, okay shut up its just filth tbh

wc: ~2380

collaborative playlist (add your songs :))

previous part

Sapnap ran his fingers through his dark hair, moving to rest his arm along the back of the bench seat, his hand brush against your shoulder softly. His other hand settled lazily on the thin steering wheel after turning up the radio a few notices. You swirled your tongue against the strawberry sucker between your lips, trying to quell the burning frustration you felt at his words.

“Suck on this and be a good girl while I’m on the phone,” he had said, answering his ringer after pushing the treat into your mouth.

He’d hung up the phone at least ten minutes prior yet you were still pouting at his nipping, cocky tone as you took the candy without sassing him. Sapnap never drove cars that were as old as the one you were in now, but he had asked you to tag along during one of his deliveries for his boss. You were curious which vehicle you would be swapping the tank for but, at the same time, you appreciated the bench seat and the airflow from the open windows.

Despite its age, the leather seats and detailing made it feel like the two of you were in some kind of old gangster movie, even though Sapnap was only in jeans and a t-shirt.

You slid across the seat, tucking yourself against his side as he wrapped his arm around you. You pulled your knees to your chest and he pressed his lips against your temple, stepping on the gas a bit more as he sped down the road. Your hand moved to rest on his thigh, slowly sliding your hand down the inside of his leg. You could see him smirking out of the corner of your eye as if to dare you to continue.

He started to hum to the radio as your nails raked down the denim, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He seemed to not be affected by your antics but you noticed his knuckles flush white as he gripped onto the steering wheel, giving away his subtle restraint.

You leaned back slightly, pulling the sucker from your mouth as his eyes darted to you before you stuck it in his mouth. “Hold this for me,” you muttered, watching as his teeth bit down on the stick as you palmed him through his jeans. Your other hand ran into his hair as his hold on the steering wheel tightened, his lips curling into a small smirk.

You sat off of him for a split second, tying your hair back as he shook his head with a small chuckle, forcing his eyes to remain glued to the road ahead of you. You pressed your lips to his neck, unbuttoning his pants and slipping your hand into his boxers, earning a groan from him. “Can I suck on something else to keep quiet?” You joshed softly as he shifted to give you a better angle. He inhaled sharply as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

You moved to sit with your knees against the leather, his hand hooking around your ponytail as you pumped your hand over his length, earning a moan from him. You looked up at him with what doe-eyes you could muster, attempting to hide the lust and deviousness behind your antics. He looked down briefly at you as he shifted gears lazily. “Am I going to be too distracting?” You asked, realizing he had stopped at a red light. He barely shook his head, sending a small wave to whoever was in the car beside the two of you.

You dug your teeth into his thigh and his fingers slipped beneath your ponytail, knotting in your locks as you quickened your hand. You moaned as he tugged at your hair, pushing yourself closer to his lap as the car began to move again. You were thankful he was a smooth driver or you would be thrown to the floorboards. That goes without saying that he wouldn’t slam on the breaks if you tried any funny business.

He pressed his shoulders against his seat, a low groan grumbling from his chest as his arousal grew in your hand. You pressed your lips against his tip, letting your tongue tease his sensitive skin. You pushed him into your mouth, gauging his size as you bobbled your head over his cock slowly, not yet taking him completely. The rush of power pulsed through your veins as he throbbed at your touch, your tongue swirling against what you could reach of his shaft.

His hand moved from its rough grip on your hair to rest in the crook of your neck, seemingly wanting to feel your throat straining to please him. You pulled off of him, swallowing as your hand bobbed against the slickness of your spit and his precum. He made a turn, hand steady as if you weren’t pressing your elbows into the expensive leather and literally stroking his ego.

You licked your lips, regretting your lipstick choice as you saw it smeared against your hand and his cock, despite the fact that you had only just begun. You took him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks the best you could as your hand moved in tandem with the song. His thumb brushed against the back of your neck softly in quiet gratefulness of your work. Your tongue swirled designs against his dick as you attempted not to choke on him.

You felt him shiver as you moaned around him. “Baby, just like that,” he cooed. “You’re taking me so well. My good girl.” His voice was gravelly as he spoke, teeth still holding the sucker as his eyes flashed between you in his lap and the road in front of him. Heat spiked through your body at his praise, the flush that was already there from the temperature in the car adding to the warmth between your legs.

You took him further down your throat, slipping him between your lips as you pulled off before taking a few centimeters more as you repeated. You were hell-bent on your mouth reaching his base, already tasting the worship he would give you as you did so. Your spit leaked against your hand, making your descent easier as your eyes watered from the pressure on your throat.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he moaned, his hips tensing under you as he struggled not to buck into your mouth. Your tongue curled against his shaft, sucking him harder. The taste of him was beginning to overpower that of the lollipop as he strained against finishing, his cock hard in your mouth and hand. Tears striped down your cheeks as you held him in the back of your throat before bobbing your head back, his hot pleasure coating the back of your throat as he let out a low moan of your name.

You realized then that he had stopped. You pumped him a few more times, earning a snide comment from him as you looked at your slick hand wrapped around him and the damage that you had done. Before you could sit up, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping you in place. “Nuh-uh. Clean me up,” he commanded, his dominance sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body as you readily heeded to his demand, licking up what you could as if was the elixir of life.

You sat up, crawling over to straddle one of his legs and pulling the bare stick from between his teeth, tossing it out of the window. You pressed your lips against his hungrily, his arm wrapping around your waist to drag you against his denim-clad thighs. His other slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, nails biting into the flesh of your legs. The taste of him blended with the artificial strawberry flavoring as his tongue pressed into your mouth with a moan.

You rolled your hips against his legs, letting the friction swim into your thoughts as you broke the kiss. Your hand wrapped around his cock again, stirring up his arousal once more. His cheeks were flushed with a soft pink as a result of the hot summer day and what you were doing to him. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin to show how much you belonged to him. You tilted your head to give him more space, moaning his name softly as his hand moved with your hips encouraging you to get off.

You sped up the pace of your hand, making him groan against your skin as he stiffened. His voice was deep and velvety in your ear as he wrapped himself around you. His tongue pressed against your neck, the breeze from the windows reaching into ghost against his marks. He bounced his knee as if dead set on getting you off before him as you ground against him like a horny teenager. “You’re my good little slut, aren’t you?” He bit, menacingly as you let out an almost pornographic moan at the friction. His arm tightened around you, driving you further up his leg as your thumb swirled over his tip, collecting what you could of his cum and dragging it down his length.

You tugged your lip between your teeth, your other hand threading your fingers into his hair and tugging lightly. “I’m your good little slut? Am I making you feel that good, sir?” You teased, stifling a moan in his t-shirt as he lapped at your collarbones, chasing the high you were bringing him to with your hand again.

His teeth nipped threateningly against your skin. “Fuck, don’t berate me while you’re riding my thigh,” he nearly growled. As if proving some kind of point, his hips jutted into your hand, driving against you harder as you whimpered at the feeling between your legs.

His hand dipped beneath the stitching at the slightly ruffled bottom of your shirt, fingers digging into your skin to leave more of his markings. You were lucky he would be the only one seeing those placements besides you. You couldn’t imagine how it would be for someone else to see the various teeth lines and bruises. He probably felt the same after you always littered his body in your makeup and nail marks. “Would you rather me be more vulgar?” You mustered, voice uneven and needy as you shamelessly thrust your hips against his leg. You felt his cock throb again, his second orgasm easier to conjure than the first as his face flushed at the stimulation.

He moved one of his hands to tug at your sleeve, pressing his lips against your freshly exposed skin. “Tell me what you want instead,” he groaned. “You look so cute. I wanna hear you whine like the little slut I know you are,” he muttered darkly.

“I want you to cum all over my hand,” you moaned, digging your face into his shirt. “I want you to make a mess of me. Please, sir,” you whined. His hand moved from your arm to the crook of your neck again, tugging your lips to crash against his in a burn of neediness. You moaned at the taste of strawberry still on his lips, dragging yourself against his leg as he bounced his knee, making your climax spark through you without warning. As your hips stuttered against him, your hand pulsed around his cock. Swallowing your whimpering moans, Sapnap came, his sticky finish painting your hand again as he groaned.

You leaned against the hood of the car, watching as Sapnap and an unknown man discussed prices that Sapnap’s boss was asking for. You popped the gum in your mouth, finding that you would much rather be tasting Sapnap on your tongue as he crossed his arms. The man handed him an envelope of cash, which he flipped through easily as if he had done the task millions of times over.

The man flashed a toothy grin at you as you tucked your hands behind your back, looking small compared to Sapnap’s frame. Sultry images flipped through your head knowing that Sapnap looked like he could break you over his knee. “That pretty thing come with the Mercury?” The man asked. While you were busy gushing over Sapnap, you hadn’t realized the man was sizing you up like some kind of meat.

You wrinkled your nose as if to question his sincerity. Without looking up from the envelope, Sapnap chimed, “Make a comment like that again and I’ll drag you behind the ‘65 Catalina by your intestines.” His voice was even and deadpanned, making your eyebrows raise as you bit back a sardonic grin. The man closed his mouth into a tight-lipped frown as Sapnap barely looked up to toss him the keys to the car the two of you had brought.

He turned, stuffing the envelope into his pocket and gesturing two fingers for you to follow him. As you jogged to join his side, he wrapped an arm around you, sliding his hand into your back pocket as the man yelled a defeated salutation after the two of you. “I’m not letting anyone talk to you like a toy,” Sapnap bit, sending you a smug grin.

You almost stripped out of your shorts for him there, yet instead, let him tuck you to his side. “You talk to me like I’m a toy, Sap,” you quipped back, disguising the fact that you secretly liked it. His confidence and the ease he had at defending you had your head spinning.

He chuckled darkly. The two of you approached another vehicle, a sleek, black Corvette gleaming at you as he opened the passenger door. He leaned his arms against the open window frame as you slid inside. He closed the door behind you. “That’s because you’re mine to play with. Not Bumfuckville Kenny,” he leered back, bringing a blush to your cheeks before he pressed his lips to yours briefly. “I treat you like a lady when you’re not begging for my cock, anyway,” he clarified with a cocky tone, sending you a wink before walking around the front of the car, leaving you hot and worked up again.

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

im going to try to have a separate list from regular Sapnap pretty soon, so make your accommodations :)

@bobbyftmydad @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @deepestofwaters @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @shroomieissmall @mintmochiii @clubfairy  @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @simpforblockguys @alm334 @valkyrieidunn @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @pixelbxtch @froggerrrr @ribbitsworld @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @victoria-a567 @miiilliiee @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @lightdreamy @furiouspockettoad @baddiesforcorpse @b00bm1lk @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @wreny24 @thewintersoldier25 @setsunaisprouts @cdizzlevalntyne @jarofbumblebees @lightdreamy @sacvf @kiritokunuwu @sunnynapp @stxrryb1tch @rat-poisin @driverpicksthe-music @hiccupofttea @honk-izzie-was-taken @wreny24 @thewintersoldier25 @deepestofwaters @fratbro69 @exenestea @glowstick-cafe @indecisivehusky @simpforblockguys @fallxnly @twist3dtinkerbell @karlkitten @dolcesnightmare

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”