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cuteandhughesy · 10 hours ago

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We Can’t Be Friends (I’ll Wait For Your Love) | Luke Hughes

summary: luke hughes said he wanted to be your friend. so what does it feel like feel like you’re falling in love. (umich! luke x umich! reader)

[word count] 9.5k

a/n: a lil somethin inspired by this request! i’ve had this fic written (although written terribly) for probably 4 years. it was originally a different player, and I always wanted to re-vamp it. so when I got this request, it made me think of it. and who better than my fav hughes boy 💋

🎵 we can’t be friends (i’ll wait for your love) by ariana grande

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march 21st: present day

sometimes you think meeting luke hughes was inevitable. you're not sure what exactly it was that had you drawn to one another—perhaps it was finding yourselves in a similar friend group, or maybe it was as simple as both of you waking up every morning at 9:37 a.m. exactly. you're both punctual people, driven and motivated when it comes to what you want—at least, you thought he was.

but as you stand in front of luke hughes today, tears in your eyes and your heart on the floor, you're not so sure.

october: your freshman year, luke's sophomore

the music is pumping through the speakers sitting stagnant in the makeshift frat house living room, echoing through the walls and vibrating your blood. you timidly sneak through the growing crowd of drunk university students, sending a small smile and apology anytime you bump into a body when they inevitably send you a dirty look.

your dorm roommate, olive had went to the bathroom almost thirty minutes ago, and you're starting to get a little worried. after all, you're both freshman in a place you've never been before. she could be lost, or hurt. she could've even gone home. you don't know, but you're sure as hell going to find out. you continue making your way through the room, in the direction of the stairs leading to where she assumed a bathroom would be.

it seems like forever until you're exiting the heart of the crowd, practically stumbling as you get into a more relaxed, less crowded space—right between the start of the kitchen and hall that leads to the stairway. you can finally feel breeze on your sweaty neck, and that's a reward in itself. you huff, looking around the space with determined eyes.

there's olive, pressed against the wall by some guy with thick thighs and pretty hair. her hands squeeze the guys shoulders, and before you can think logically, you're making your way over there. is this guy trapping her there? is she trying to push him off?

"olive!" you call her name, and as soon as you say it, you've realized your mistake. they'd been kissing, rather passionately according to the bulge forming in mystery man's pants.

your roommate eyes you wildly, "y/n?"

you freeze, and then to make evening worse you let a giggle slip out. you cover your mouth, an attempt to mask the growing smirk. you've always been a chronic stresser, which a lot of the time can be annoying, and well, stressful. but on the rare occasion your overthinking leads to funny moments—like interrupting your roommates dry humping session for example.

olive kind of looks at you like she can't decide if she wants to murder you, or laugh along. the guy who was just sucking her face decides he wants to laugh, letting a few deep rumbles echo between the three of you. "sorry, I can let you guys talk if like...something's wrong?"

your laughter has faded into just the occasional giggle, and you hold your hands out as if you're asking him to stop. "no, sorry, you're good. i'm just going to excuse myself...have a drink."

olive nods once, "you do that."

you giggle again, and then send the mystery man a small nod. "nice to meet you strange boy, i'm sure i'll see you again."

you don't spare them another look before turning away, darting into the frat kitchen. considering it's a party, the kitchen is pretty deserted. there's a couple whispering with one another against the fridge, and three frat looking guys hovering around the island, making those stupid beer car swords from their empties.

you ignore them all, darting towards the makeshift drink bar that's really just 10 bottles of hard liquor lined up by the sink and various cans of pop and sparkling water—warm ones at that—scattered along the counter. you pick up a can of diet coke, and the can is sticky. you cringe as you pour it into your solo cup, and then you add a healthy shot of rum.

someone approaches the counter next to you, there movements a little slow but determined. it's a guy, you think. he smells like laundry and a little bit like vodka and sweat—but not stinky sweat, but like deodorant musk. his hand darts into your space to grab the rum, his long fingers wrapping around the neck before bringing it towards his cup.

that's when you look at him. it's one of the frat looking guys that had been building a beer tower when you first walked in, expect now his beer tower has been abandoned on the sticky island while he pours himself a mixed drink. he's tall, but not scarily so, with curly hair that he definitely doesn't know how to take care off—you can tell that based on how it looks unbrushed and frizzy. he's wearing a loose hawaiian shirt, because the theme of the night was hawaiian, paired with board shorts that don't match.

you're staring at him—analyzing him—when his hazel eyes find yours. "hey." he says, voice raspy from yelling over the music all night.

"hi." you nod, taking a slow sip of your drink. you've definitely added too much rum, but the buzz is too nice to do anything about it. "you done with beer for the night?"

at first, his brows pull in confusion, but then he watches your eyes dart to the sword made of beer cans and it all makes sense—you'd seen him. he shrugs nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth slinking up in a half smile as he adds way too much rum to a brand new solo cup. "yeah," he hums, eyes flickering back to you. "thought i'd opt for something a little more...tasteful."

you could swear his eyes flicker down to your lips as he says it, but you're unsure. so you hum lightly, taking another sip of your drink.

he continues. "enjoying yourself?"

"can't say i'm not." you say after a moment, quirking a brow in his direction when his smirk grows. he adds sprite to his cup, which you're sure won't mix well with rum, but you don't say anything about that.

he takes a sip and immediately coughs, grimacing at the flavours battling in his mouth. "shits rank." he winces again, doing a full body shutter that makes you laugh. he looks back to you, a small smile blooming on his face. "don't laugh."

you hold your hands up in mock surrender. "everyone knows sprite doesn't go with rum—or I guess, most people know."

he breathes a laugh. "what are you? a bartender or an alcoholic?"

you grin. "maybe both."

"luke, come play pong." a voice interrupts whatever response he could've come up with. when you look towards the entrance of the kitchen, you're met with the sight of not only olive, but the guy she'd been locking lips with minutes ago.

clearly the mystery guy knows the guy in front of you—luke. when olive sees you, she lights up, "y/n!" one of her small fingers pointing at you almost accusatorially. "and you. come play."

you blink, but a laugh bubbles out your chest anyways. "what?" you say at the same time luke says, "why?" which ends with the two of your eyeing each other—almost like how have our friends just happened to be making out and now we've met and they're asking us to play a drinking game kinda look—before looking back at olive and the man who is still unnamed to you.

"the guys wanna play pong in partners and we need another duo." luke's friend answers, brown eyes pleading as he looks between the both of you.

olive chimes in, her tiny hands wrapped around his bulging bicep. it's then that you notice the shirt underneath his open blue hawaiian one, is a michigan wolverines one. "yeah and it seems like you two have been acquainted."

your mouth opens like you're going to protest, but luke's smooth voice cuts you off. "we're just...talking."

his friend snickers. "okay, well talk while you're throwing balls in some beer."

you pull a face at the wording of his scentence, which makes him laugh. you're pretty sure you hear olive call him ethan through her half scold, half laugh.

somebody calls through the house, telling ethan to hurry up or the balls will get cold. that has your face pulling further, fingers flexing around the solo cup in your hand. ethan tells whoever it is to suck it and be patient.

luke sighs, although the sound is more amused than anything else. he pushes off the counter he'd previously started leaning against, chugging the remainder of his nasty drink before he nods towards ethan and olive. "okay, let's go."

olive cheers, and ethan makes a noise of triumph, the two of them spinning around and making their way back into the crowd of the house—disappearing through bodies and voices getting drowned out by the drake song playing over the speakers.

you don't move though, and luke notices. he eyes you, one brow shooting upwards in question. you send him a hesitant look, a shy smile blooming on your stained lips.

"you coming?"

you laugh. "oh, i'm not good at beer pong. I played once in high school, and the ball hit my opponent more than the cups. you guys should just find someone else, i'm good just...spectating." you trail off, swallowing the sudden rush of nerves climbing up your throat. you curse yourself for rambling, especially when it's to someone you just met, but you can't help it when you feel nervous.

luke's eyes drop down your body, slowly trailing over your limbs and your silly hawaiian get up. he's assessing you, and it's making you a bit hot. eventually his hazel eyes dart back to yours, a dismissive frown on his lips. "nah...I trust you."

he's looking at you kinda warmly...and it makes you feel even weirder than when he was borderline checking you out. you've never done well with male attention, mostly because affection makes you squeamish—you've always been that way. so you clear your throat, laughing awkwardly and like you always do to clear the subject. "fine! but if we loose you have to remember this very moment."

luke laughs, the two of you walking out into the chaos of the party. the scent of liquor and coconut body spray immediately fills your nostrils. he lets his hand hover the small of your back as the crowd envelopes you. luke leans down so that he can talk in a normal tone, "okay, no problem. but we won't loose, y/n."

you grin. "big talk, luke."

the first round of beer pong is a bust, and you don't even come close to getting a point for your and luke. his friends, who luke introduced at lightning speed—their names have completely slipped your mind now—snicker and laugh each time you fail, which makes you feel embarrassed. but luke doesn't care, and he never once makes you feel stupid about being bad at a meaningless game of beer pong.

he sure as hell makes you feel flustered though—whispering encouragement against the shell of your ear while you try not to squirm. but that's neither here or there.

it's not until the third game that you get a point, and when the ball skims the rim of the cup before falling into the beer with a quiet plop, luke cheers, grabbing you in his arms and spinning you around. "holy shit." he says, grin on his face. "what a shot! we have a chance of winning now."

you don't have a chance, but the only thing you can do is smile back at him. and when you and luke inevitably don't win, and you're quick to tell him, "I told you so."

luke blinks, that half lazy smirk he'd had on his face back in the kitchen once again back. the room is still loud, and unbelievably hot. you can barley focus on anything besides luke's friends, which you have since learned are his teammates, goofing around in a new game of beer pong.

you look up at him tenderly, a hint of nervousness in your gaze. luke tongues his cheek, and then let's out an amused chuckle. "hey...put your number in my phone?"

you squint. "i'm not looking for a boyfriend."

luke laughs again, this time more breathily and it makes your breath catch in your chest. "me either."

your face falls, but the smile threatens to break you out of your faux annoyance.

"okay fine, i'll put mine in yours." luke doesn't break eye contact when he suddenly reaches out, plucking your phone out of your back pocket. he turns it on, and his brows pull when he notices you don't have a password. he thumbs your screen, adding himself as a contact and texting himself so that he has your number.

you snatch it back, which makes him smile even wider. he knows you're not actually upset with him, because you waited until he was finished adding his number before stopping him—and that's a win in his books. "that's a violation of privacy."

"if you want privacy you should put a password on that thing." he retorts.

"or maybe you shouldn't take my phone." you look down at your screen to see he's added himself as 'beer pong king' in your contacts.

luke's grin doesn't waver, and he lets a tense moment of silence pass between you before speaking again. "I want to be your friend, y/n." his eyes glimmer with something you can't decipher, "if that's okay with you."

november: freshman year

a month passes since the luau party at the frat house—which luke has since corrected you, because it's not a frat house, it's his house that he shares with a group of guys from his team. in other words, the sophomore house. to which your response was, tomato tamoto.

luke texted you two days after he hijacked your phone and got your number. there was a part of you that thought you'd never hear from him after that—he was drunk, like you, and he's just been bold in that moment and then woke up hungover and full of regret. but apparently not. it was a simple message, asking if you wanted to come over and watch a movie.

it has taken you by surprise, and you could only blink at your phone screen for 5 minutes while you attempted to collect your thoughts. but eventually you said yes, and before you knew it, luke was picking you up.

in the month you've been hanging out with luke you've learned a few things. one of them being that he's a flirt. you don't even know if he's aware how flirtatious and touchy he is, especially with you—but if he does know, he doesn't care. luke also loves to push your buttons, which is just an extension of his flirting.

you swear luke gets off on watching you get annoyed or flustered with the things he says and things he does. and you know that because everytime he starts, he's got that half lipped smirk on his face—watching and waiting for your reaction like it's a game. every unimpressed pout and unhidden grin from you is met with luke's contagious breathy laughter and crinkling eyes.

but sometimes you think you like it more than luke does.

you've also learned that luke is a chronic procrastinator when it comes to his personal life. things like doing his laundry, cleaning his room, or even simply ordering a tux for events was always done at the last possible minute. so it didn't come as a surprise when luke showed up to your dorm room, the day before the wolverines welcome banquet, asking if you'd be his plus one.

you send him a deadpanned look, crossing your arms over the oversized, worn out lady gaga concert tee you thrifted almost 5 years ago. there's threads pulled at the collar and a hole right next to your belly button, and luke can see your soft skin through it. he grins, eyes darting back up to your clean face and clear rimmed glasses.

"tomorrow night?" you ask him, hand coming up to scratch your head, which proves to be a bit difficult with the huge tangled bun on top of your head, but you manage.

"yeah." he shrugs nonchalantly, walking past you and straight into your messy dorm room. olive is out thankfully, but her side of the room isn't the problem—yours is. your laptop is left running, playing an episode of 90 day fiancé, and there's a collection of your water bottles on a rolly cart you dubbed as a beside table.

there's clothes and textbooks strewn all over the floor, and a pair of worn underwear just right out in the open. your eyes widen, rushing past luke and balling them up in your hand before he can see them.

luke plops right down on your mattress, unfazed by everything, and brings your laptop to rest on his stomach. he looks at you, "it'll be fun."

you make a noise that sounds like a scoff, standing in the middle of your room like you're frozen. "do I need to wear a dress? is this like a serious banquet thing?"

luke's brow furrow, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "I guess so? it's like fancy and stuff, i'm wearing a suit." his words having your sighing, mentally going through your closet—looking for something appropriate for an event like this. oh god, you can't even remember if you have heels here.

as if luke can see your brain working over time, he sits up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the bed. your thighs hit the mattress, and it has you blinking in surprise. luke's fingers squeeze the bone of your wrist firmly, "don't over think it, y/n. you don't have to if you're busy, but I would really like it if you came."

your heart thumps dramatically, and you almost want to roll your eyes about it. but you don't. "okay," you breathe, "I can come."

luke grins and it has you joining in. you're sure you'll find something to wear, and worse case olive has some stuff she'd surely lend you. plus, tomorrow is hair wash day, so that works out in your favour.

he pulls you onto your bed, "okay now let's watch this shit." you roll your eyes as luke adjusts the laptop back onto his stomach, your show still playing loudly through the overused speakers.

turns out, you had no appropriate attire for a university banquet in your wardrobe. everything was either too short, or too low cut. olive kept insisting luke wouldn't mind, to which you kept having to remind her that it's not about luke and you don't care what he thinks.

that makes olive snort.

you're sweating by the time olive hands you a high neck red dress that she dug out from the back of her closet. she thrust’s you into the small bathroom you share, which is still boiling hot from your hairdryer, and urges you to try it on.

you slip it on, and it's fits you nicely. it will have to do. as you're sliding small, thick hoops into your ears, the sound of luke knocking on the door echos through the dorm. you hear olive let him in, and then luke immediately asking where you are. to which olive responds, 'in the bathroom you clingy freak.'

when you emerge from the small, yellow painted walls of the restroom, luke is lounging on your bed in a suit, fiddling with his tie absentmindedly. when the door squeaks open though, his eyes dart up, meeting yours.

luke swallows, pupils dilating as he looks you over.

olive cheers, gesturing for you to spin around with a twirl of her index finger. "wow that looks better on you than it ever did me. you can keep it."

"yeah," luke hums, getting off the bed just as you come to a stop. "keep it."

you look away when you feel a blush crawl up your neck, busying yourself and grabbing the strappy heels you'd found in your shoe bin 1 hour ago. luke steps in front of you, and before you can blink he's grabbing the shoes from you. "let me."

you send him a deadpanned look. "I can put my shoes on, luke."

he ignores you and drops down to his one knee. "shut up and let me put your heels on your feet." your stomach swoops and you huff loudly. luke taps your ankle, signalling for you to lift your foot. you do, and when you begin to teeter from being off balance your rest your hand on luke's broad shoulder to steady yourself.

he slips your heel on, fingers tickling your skin as he crosses the straps aorund your calfs. each movement is delicate and gentle, like he's trying to give you goosebumps on purpose. and it works.

when luke switches to your next foot, olive snorts again, which is her version of laughing, looking between you both amused. "you guys are ridiculous."

he huffs a laugh, finishing up with the heel. as he gets back up, luke trails two fingers up the back side of your leg, dipping with your knee pit and moving halfway up the backside of your thigh. olive doesn’t notice, thank god, because you don't even know what you'd say if she did. you're frozen, and flustered, blinking up at luke as he stands to his full height.

"ready?" he asks you casually—like he didn't just touch you so softly.

you nod and olive shouts, "have fun you two!"

december: freshman year

beer pong king

11:51 p.m.

i'm coming over

beer pong king

12:03 a.m.

are you awake?

beer pong king

12:07 a.m.

i'm in your building

your phone vibrates against your twin mattress. it doesn't really wake you, and you sigh dreamily, tucking your head further into the pillow.

it vibrates again, and this time your eyes begin fluttering open. you blink through the darkness, your dorm room only illuminated by the light under your microwave. you're alone, cleo already gone home for winter break. her clinical finished before yours, which is stupid, so you leave tomorrow instead of yesterday like your roommate.

there's a knock on your door, and that's when you finally register your phone that has been buzzing next to you. it's luke—texting and what you can only assume, knocking at your door at 12:10 in the morning.

you all but stumble out of your warm bed and trudge across the small room until you're at the door. with sleep still clouding your vision and your too thin pyjamas on, you open the threshold between your room and luke.

he blinks, quickly eyeing your appearance before he grins. "hey sleepy head."

your response is a hum, one that tells luke you're not quite fully awake yet. he knows that this semester has been tough on you. your program is demanding and has long hours, and you've been getting used to the schedule, but that doesn't mean you're happy or content with it.

he wraps his arm around you, pulling your goosebump covered body into his chest. you go easily, and once luke's warmth envelops you, you're sighing. he laughs once, "missed you today."

missed you too, is what you want to say, but instead, "i've been tired, i'm sorry."

luke has pushed you both back into your room and let’s the door swing closed behind him. he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as he guides you back to your bed. "I know, you don't need to apologize."

he helps you shuffle back between your blankets—way too many if you ask him—before he slips in beside you. the routine comes naturally to both of you, as you've been doing to for three months straight.

instinctively you curl into luke's side, seeking his warmth. he smells like soap and hockey, which reminds you that tonight he had a game. his appearance at your dorm makes even more sense now, because he always wants to sleep at yours after home games. luke claims it's because he's tired and your dorm is closer than his house, but you think he's just a big baby who thinks your bed is more comfortable.

"how was your game?" you ask quietly, nuzzling into his shoulder. "did you guys win?"

luke's chest rises in a deep breath before he exhales loudly. his fingers run through your hair, twirling your soft strands absentmindedly. "nah, we got our asses fucking handed to us. the guys were sloppy, and we weren't producing. refs were calling stupid penalties and..." he trails off, sighing away some of the building frustration. "i'm sorry, you're tired."

you shake your head against his chest. "yeah...but keep talking. your voice is soothing me."

his brow quirks up. "are you being serious?"

you moan sleepily, the hushed conversation already beginning to lull you back to sleep. "mhmm."

"okay," he whispers, and because he can't resist the chance to push your buttons, he mumbles, "what do you want me to talk about?"

"luke."

he laughs breathily, pressing his nose against your hairline, lips softly brushing over your forehead. if you were more awake you'd be flustered, but you're already falling back to sleep, your lips puffing out and the softest snores passing through you.

before luke met you, after a tough loss he'd usually be out with his friends, drinking and blowing off steam in some random girls bed. but since you wandered into his life, the thought has luke feeling nothing short of repulsed.

he'd rather lay with you in your dark dorm room, fall asleep to the sound of your snores than even think about going out. and that thought has him feeling a little funny, so luke closes his eyes and rest his head against yours—letting sleep overtake him.

january, freshman year

"god it's so fucking cold my balls are going to fall off." you curse, teeth chattering as you shuffle along the snow dusted pathway. michigan winter has turned out to be relentless, and you were hoping while you were back home for christmas the weather would subside—but no.

beside you, luke laughs and his breathes comes out in a puff of white fog. he sends you a ludicrous look, "you don't have balls."

"okay fine," you huff, "my vagina is going to shrivel up."

luke pulls a face. "graphic."

you shrug casually under your oversized winter coat. "well that's the image you have to live with when I die from this frigid weather." you slow in your already turtle comparable steps. "while i'm on my death bed and you're crying because you made me go on a stupid walk in the middle of winter."

you've been home from break for one day, and that's all the time you were given before luke was begging you to spend time with him. you agreed obviously—but you weren't expecting 'hanging out' to entail walking across campus in the frigid temperatures for what luke says is fun.

he rolls his eyes fondly at your dramatics, and pulls you into his side like it's second nature. living in michigan means luke is used to the cold—where while you're from a warmer state, meaning this feels like the north pole. you're certainly dressed like it. luke said earlier you looked like a baby penguin. "you're so dramatic. you'll be fine, c'mere."

you tuck underneath his arm easily, and you're already starting to feel warmer. your toes are still frozen though, and as you begin walking again you groan. luke continues, squeezing your bicep. "is it such a crime that I wanted to spend time with my best girl?"

"you should call her then! she can take my place!" you say with faux enthusiasm, flicking the side of luke's torso. you doubt he can feel it though.

luke laughs. "you already know you're my best girl, you smart ass."

you gasp lewdly. "who are you calling smart ass?"

"enough you weirdo," luke says with nothing short of amusement. "i'm sorry" he mumbles into your winter hat—your pom-pom tickling his cheek.

you hum like you don't believe the sincerity of his apology. regardless, you wrap your arms around his middle. "you can make it up to me by getting me a hot chocolate."

"okay." luke agrees easily.

you add on, "and a lemon loaf."

he nods, looking down at you through snowflake covered eyelashes. "can I get a bite at least?"

a beat passes. "i'll consider it."

"wow, you're so generous."

"shut up."

february, freshman year

it's still pitch black outside when your eyes flutter open. you groan at the funny feeling swirling in your belly—the same feeling that woke you out of sleep.

luke's breathing steady beside you, his laptop now closed on his nightstand from where it was previously between your bodies, playing re-runs of 9-1-1, when you feel asleep. you'd been feeling a little off all day—a headache accompanied by exhaustion and a nauseous feeling lingering in your stomach.

you had brushed it off and chalked it up to not enough sleep. after all, the new semester was kicking your ass. when luke offered l to chill at his place for the night, you figured it was exactly what you needed—sheets that smell like him and the proper working heating system would be the cure.

but something is now really wrong. you groan, checking the clock on your phone to see it’s almost 3 in the morning. hoping to ignore the sickly feeling, you lay back down and close your eyes, praying that sleep will take you once again.

but then your stomach gurgles, and the lurches and you know you're about to be sick. you jump out of bed, barley making it into the en suite bathroom attached to luke's room before you're hurling, throwing up the entire days continents into the toilet bowl.

it feels like you're throwing up forever, when in reality it's only two minutes—your body switching between dry heaving, groaning and actually puking. you take a deep breath, desperately trying to ignore the sour taste in your mouth or else you'll start being sick again.

tears cloud your vision as you pull away from the toilet, too exhausted to flush it, and lean back against the cold, cracked tiles of the bathroom wall. they feel nice against your warm skin, which is coated in a layer of sweat.

luke pops his head into the bathroom, brows pulled in concern as he catches sight of your pale, sickly face. "hey, you alright?"

you take a deep, shaky breath and shake your head. "I think i've got a stomach bug," you gag, and luke's eyes widen, looking between you and the toilet frantically. it's a false alarm, and you sit back against the wall. "I think i'm going to hang out here." a dry, cracking laugh leaves you.

but luke doesn't find it funny. his bare feet pad into the bathroom, flushing the toilet and filling up one of the little paper mouthwash cups with tap water before you can even blink. he crouches in front of you and hands you the water. "you're shaking."

are you? you didn't notice.

luke plops down next to you and gathers your tangled hair off your warm neck. you sigh gently as the cool air touches you skin, eyes fluttering shut. your stomach isn't feeling any better, and the water you just drank, although a minimal amount, isn't helping.

wordlessly you hover back over the toilet bowl as bile climbs up your aching throat, and luke follows wordlessly. he keeps your hair up and out of your face as your throw up again, his other hand smoothing up and down your t-shirt covered back—his t-shirt that you borrowed, now caked in cold sweat.

once you're done, luke flushes for you once again and then helps guide you back to the wall.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a low groan rumbling your chest. "you don't have to stay," you whisper in the dim bathroom, eyes glassy as they meet his. "it's late, and you have an early practice."

luke shrugs casually against you. wait, when did he pull you into his lap? his hand continues running up and down your spine, soothing you while your head rests against his neck—your forehead sticking to him uncomfortably. "i'll be alright. as long as you're okay."

30 minutes lass and you haven't thrown up again. luke helps you back onto your feet—slowly—and then brings you back to his bed. at this point your too exhausted to speak, never mind walk, so you let him move you around like a ragdoll.

your stomach is still upset, but it's nowhere near as painful as when you first got up. you cuddle under the warm blankets, still shaking as luke pulls you against his chest. you fall back to sleep in what feels like seconds with your head on luke's peck and him pressing what you're pretty sure are pecks against your damp hairline.

the cycle repeats again at 4:30 and then again closer to 7. and both times luke is there, holding you while you cry and keeping your hair back while your heave.

luke's alarm blares at 7:45. surprisingly it doesn't wake you up, which luke is thankful for because you look absolutely wrecked. he quickly gets ready for practice—brushing his teeth, getting dressed and mucking a protein shake before he attempts to wake you.

softly, he brushes his fingers over your cheek, and your eyes flutter open. "hey," luke whispers, sitting down next to you. "i'm gunna go to practice. you gunna be okay? or do you want me to call olive?"

you shake your head no. "but if you want your bed rid of a sick girl, I can get olive to come get me."

this time luke shakes his head no, running his index finger across your eyebrow soothingly. "i'll be back in a few hours." he promises, forcing a small smile. the sight of your ghostly pale complexion and rosy nose has him feeling worried and quite frankly, sick himself.

your eyes flutter closed again as luke smooths a hand over your messy hair. you hum quietly and curl back into the duvet, letting some much needed sleep take you once again.

thankfully it seems that the actual stomach sickness part of your stomach bug has passed, and you don't wake up again until luke is coming back from practice—hair damp from the showers.

he's got a grocery bag in his hand containing a few bottles of ginger ale and one of those electrolyte drinks you hate but luke loves and insists you need. he sets them on the nightstand and greets you gently. "how you feeling?"

you shrug, "better than earlier."

luke passes you the electrolyte one and makes you take three big gulps. you grimace the whole time, but he knows you need to have some. a feeling of guilt rushes through you—you're sure the last thing luke wants to do is play doctor for a girl he's only known since october. for a friend.

you tuck your legs to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. "I'm sorry luke," you say, voice hoarse, "you don't have to take care of me. I can call olive to come get me now...give you your bed back."

his head cocks to the side and exhales roughly through his nose like you're crazy for even suggesting something so insane. "don't be sorry, y/n. you can't help it if you've got the stomach bug." luke thrusts the drink back in your direction and you take another sip.

you shrug shyly, "I know, but still it's not ideal. I know it's not what you signed up for when you asked me to hang out."

luke lets out a huff of laughter, wrapping his fingers around your ankle bone and squeezing. "in sickness and in health."

his words makes you smile. your lips are dry and cracked, and it hurts—but that doesn't stop you from grinning. "that only applies to married people, luke."

"tomato tamoto." he shushes you playfully, squeezing your ankle bone one more firm time before he lets go. in the next few minutes luke helps you get situated with new clothes to change into, and then sets up his laptop where he puts on your favourite movie.

when you're back in bed, wearing clean clothes and sipping nasty electrolytes—reluctantly so luke doesn't chop your head off—tucked into luke's side as the sound of 27 dresses playing through the room, you look up at him softly, a tiny smile playing on your mouth. "thank you."

"of course." luke says with just as much tenderness as you. then he blinks, turning back to his computer. "now shut up, i'm trying to check out katherine heigl's boobs."

you click your tongue, pushing on luke's cheek to push him away from you. luke laughs, grabbing your wrist before you can retract it and playfully nipping the skin of your palm.

march 11th: freshman year

luke grits his teeth, and he's pretty sure they're about to crack under the pressure. his eyes are pointed and angry, watching from across the crowded living room of his teammates place.

you laugh loudly, and the sound makes his stomach swirl. he's pretty sure that laugh specifically was fake—luke's heard your actual laugh enough to know it's more of a cackle, rather than the light breathy one you just made.

his eyes almost roll out of his sockets as he watches you kindly reach out, placing a gentle hand on jacob truscotts shoulder. yes, jacob truscott—luke's damn teammate. luke knows you're just being friendly, and you’re only trying to get to know his friends, but luke knows that jacob is enjoying it a little bit too much just by the way his eyes keep darting to your tits.

with the run to the playoffs approaching, some of the guys on the team decided to throw a celebratory party. his captains off-campus home was filled with athletes and friends alike—accompanied by the occasional stranger, and of course puck bunnies. a typical hockey party of u of mich.

you haven't even been here an hour, and already your attention has been taken away from luke. first it was kayleigh, rutger's girlfriend, who insisted that you had to dance with her. and then you just keep mingling, floating around the room like you belonged there.

and luke loves it—watching you get along with his friends and teammates did a funny thing to his heart. but his joy faded when you landed next to jacob, who's been chatting with you for almost 25 minutes. that's 20 minutes longer than anyone else besides kayleigh tonight.

sure, luke thinks. you're single and attractive, and so is truscott. jacob is charismatic and a little nerdy, just like luke, so of course you'd been drawn to him. and of course you're allowed to do what you want, and so is his teammate—but how dare jacob flirt with you.

you're luke's.

jacob looks through the crowd, and his smirk grows once he catches the daggers luke is sending his way. he turns his attention back to you, and you raise a brow curiously. "you know," he starts, "hughes is totally trying to kill me with his eyes right now. I think he's a little jealous i'm with his girl."

your breath catches in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you try and find your wording. all that does is make jacob's knowing grin widen. eventually you shake your head, a soft laugh leaving you. "oh...no, i'm—i'm not his girl."

jacob laughs once, "you sure?"

you blink, completely at a loss for words. your skin feel hot, like you could either pass out or ignite in flames. luke's just your friend, you know this. that's what he told you, months ago, when he got your number.

"I want to be your friend, y/n. if that's okay with you."

but do friends take each other to banquets and trail their fingers up your leg to make you shiver? do friends come to your room after every home game, win or loose, to simply just fall asleep with you? do friends buy you hot chocolate and lemon loafs, or hold you hair back when your sick? do friends kiss your head while they think you're sleeping?

you don't know what to say to jacob. all you can manage is to shake your head slowly. reminding not only jacob, but also yourself that no, you're not his girl. no matter what tricks your brain wants to play on you right now, and no matter how hard your heart is thumping at the idea of being luke hughes' girl...you're not.

"I want to be your friend, y/n. if that's okay with you."

jacob doesn't look convinced. "no?"

you shake your head again. more firmly.

he hums like he's just discovered a new way to create energy. jacob's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze intently as he slowly reaches towards you. "so I can flirt with you," he pauses, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "and touch you?"

you stay silent.

jacob pulls away. "that's what I thought."

you don't dare try and find luke in the crowd—you're too scared to see what you'd find. you clear your throat, gaze dropping to the floor momentarily. you start gently, "he told me he wants to be my friend."

"he may say that," jacob hums, "but that's not what he means...and judging by the look on your face—and the one on his—there's a part of you deep down that already knows that."

finally, you allow yourself to find luke. he pushes off the wall as your eyes met, abandoning his beer can on a nearby table before making his way towards you.

jacob snickers, shaking his head in amusement. "i'll see you around, y/n." and then he leaves, disappearing back into the crowd just before luke gets to you.

"what did he want?" luke's tone is bitter, not even hugging you a chance to greet him properly before bombarding you.

your brows raise. "why does it matter?"

he shrugs, not quite meeting your eyes as he thinks of something to say. "guess it doesn't." luke wants to kill jacob truscott.

you look confused, and a little scared, and that makes luke feel guilty. he swallows his pride, grabbing your wrist and slowly bringing you towards his chest. "I missed you over there." he mutters, just for the two of you to hear. you don't stop him as luke wraps his arms around your hips, tucking you against his torso like you belong there. the worst part is, it feels like you do.

you don't smile, so luke kisses your cheek. softly at first, but then more firmly. just as quickly luke is sucking the apple of your cheek into his mouth, and you squirm, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips. "hey! don't give me a hickey."

he pulls away with a satisfied grin and then leans back in to lick the spot he'd just been suckling on. you laugh again, pushing against his chest as you make a poor attempt at trying to escape his arms.

in then in the most tender, quiet tone he can manage, luke says, "I missed my girl."

your stomach drops to your toes and it makes your limbs feel heavy. your eyes flicker up to his, the smallest grin daring to form on your face.

1 week later: playoffs

it's not often that you're able to go to wolverine hockey games. your clinical labs ran late 3 out of 5 days a week, and the odd occasion when you have the night free, you're too tired to even change into pyjamas—never mind go to a hockey game.

but when the playoffs came around, you made an exception. the guys where up 3-1 in their first series, and if they won the next game they buy themselves a ticket to the next round. the atmosphere was electric in the arena, and if that wasn't enough of a reason to attend, luke also wanted you there—hell, he begs for it.

and things with luke are...good. they're different, rather. you've been toeing the line of friendship for months now, and after his little jealously spurt last week, it seems that you and luke have your toes across that line and right in the pool. nothing has really changed if you're being logical, but there's just something unspoken between you that has you believing otherwise.

so here you are, watching the clock tick down on the jumbotron with kayleigh—both of you too nervous to look at the actual ice. the wolverines are up 2-0, and in 10 seconds, they will have won. the crowd around you is loud, cheering and jumping in excitement as the time runs out. at 5 seconds left kayleigh hugs you, laughing through her smile as she says, 'our boys did it!'

and when the clock finally hits zero, the familiar horn blaring through the arena, you finally let yourself cheer. the next 15 minutes are a blur of emotion and clearing crowds. when kayleigh asks if you're going to hang back and wait for luke, you shake your head. "no," you sigh, a blush on your cheeks, "i'll let him celebrate with the guys."

she sends you an odd look but shakes it off, letting you make your way back to luke's place. you have to uber, but you don't mind. if anything it gives you time to collect your rapid heat rate and the nerves festering low in your belly. you had caught a glimpse of luke's face on the ice—the pure joy that overtook his features—as he celebrated with the team. that is enough in itself to have you grinning to yourself like a maniac in the backseat of the uber.

you open the front door of the sophomore house, always unlocked because they're crazy, and kick your shoes off. you pull your phone out, intending to text luke and let him know you're back at his, and you'll see him when he gets back from celebrating.

but right before hitting send, the front door opens behind you, making you whip around to see the familiar hazel eyes of luke. he's slightly breathless, still in his suit with his curls matted down to the top of his head like he hasn't showered yet.

"luke? what are you doing?"

"I'm celebrating." he says quickly, taking a step towards you. "I love my teammates but there's no one else I want to see more than you right now."

you blink, in some sort of shock. "did you follow me here?"

"I think I was a few minutes behind," luke nods, a grin on his face. "but I broke a few speeding laws to get here as quick as I did." softly, luke raises his hand and places it along your jawline, stroking the hallow part of your cheekbone with his thumb soothingly.

he's looking down at you like you're a prize—like you're all he needs to breathe. it makes your heart rate increase once again, and subconsciously your advert your gaze. they land on his tie and your fingers begin pulling at it, loosening it from around his neck. you're just trying to look busy, but the way luke's breath hitches at the action has you faltering.

"i'm sorry." you whisper.

"don't apologize," he shakes his head, other hand coming up to rest on the other side of your face. "i'd let you get me completely naked if you wanted to."

this time is your breath getting caught. "luke."

he nods like he knows what you're asking for, even though you don't even know what you're asking for. luke's thumbs continue to caresses your soft skin, "I haven't showered yet."

you hum casually, even though your blood is pumping so fast you can hear it in your ears. luke can tell you're in your own head, thoughts swirling in your eyes like your own personal washing machine.

"y/n," luke says your name softly, pulling your attention back to him. you glance back up at him through the fluttering of your lashes.

he leans down—slowly but surely—giving you enough time to stop him. but you don't stop him and you don't want to either. luke kisses you, lips slotting with yours like the perfect puzzle piece.

you sigh pleasantly into his mouth, hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and keeping him close. luke's kiss is somehow both soft and firm. lips silky and smooth like butter, but hot and toe curling all at once.

luke picks you up quickly, like you weigh nothing, wrapping your thighs around his hips comfortably before carrying you down the hall to his bedroom. he doesn't stop the kiss until he's sitting you on the countertop in the en suite. before he turns on the shower, he presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth and you giggle.

almost instantly the steam slinks through the room, wrapping around your limbs and fogging up the mirrors—both above the sink and the one on the cabinet above the toilet.

luke smiles before connecting your lips again. his fingers slide over you hips before slipping under the hem of your top, tickling the bare skin of your stomach with his gentle strokes. you squirm, which makes him laugh and completely lift your shift off, revealing your lacy bra. it doesn't go as smoothly as he hopes, and it gets tangled in your hair, loose locks falling over your face.

you and luke laugh gently while he gets your sweater out of the mess of hair. once he's dropped it to the floor, he pushes the hair away from your face to reveal your flushed skin once more. you both smile at one another before hurriedly continuing the kiss as the bathroom grows hot and dewy from the running shower.

"i'm so glad you were at my game tonight, y/n." luke says against your mouth as your nimble fingers push off luke's suit jacket before working on tugging the buttons lining his dress shirt.

you kiss his lips quickly, and he tries to deepen it by sliding his tongue against your lips. "i'm glad you wanted me there." you tell him around the mess of lips and gliding tongues.

luke's hands skim back up your thighs, covered by the sheer material of your tights. your heart is thumping wildly as luke's fingers hook the edge of your tights and skirt, yanking them both down in one firm tug. "I want you anywhere...no matter what," luke admits, kissing you again.

you finish undressing one another before luke helps you slip back off the counter—not without grabbing a handful of your ass first—guiding you both into the water stream flowing from the shower head. the hot water combined with luke's hands running over your body has you moaning, arching into him as your lips continue to move together.

luke's hand skims down your back, gliding easily with the water cascading down your skin, and grabbing another handful of your ass.

you pull away, your heavy breaths mixing between your slippery bodies. "did you actually need to shower? I can wash your hair for you."

luke grins fondly. "i'll worry about that later. right now I can't focus on anything other than you and this fucking body. god you’re pretty." he curses again, dropping his mouth down to the junction of your neck and placing an open mouth kiss against your pulse point.

you giggle again—like a school girl—body molding against luke's like it's never known anything different. you can feel luke's lips turn up in a grin against your neck, tickling you—which only makes you laugh louder, the sound echoing in the foggy bathroom.

you're pretty sure people are arriving back home, their voices echoing through the house—loud and excited. but as luke's long fingers slip down your front, easily gliding between your folds, everything else fades away.

march 21st: present day

you and luke had sex.

you.

luke.

sex. in his shower. with his roommates downstairs. stifling your moans in the palm of luke's hand.

afterwards, once you'd both dried off and gotten into bed, you fell asleep—drunk on lust, the sounds of youtube playing through luke's laptop. the next morning, you both ate breakfast, grinning at one another across the kitchen as you shoved cereals into your mouths.

ethan stumbles in, and sleepily says, "yall really need to learn some volume control." and that made you blush and luke choke on his rice krispies.

last night really put your feelings for luke into perspective. you've never wanted to just be his friend, despite what you told him back in october when he got your number. luke was just new to you, and he was cute and kind and flirtatious and that scared you.

you didn't want to get hurt, so you pretended that just being his friend was okay. but after last night, you're sure your feelings are reciprocated. luke likes you.

well, it's should've put everything into perspective. but after you leave the sophomore house that afternoon, you don't hear from luke.

not that day. or the day after. or for the entire week after hooking up in the shower. you texted him once, checking in, but you never heard back. luke hughes has gone radio silent.

it's not until a week and one day after do you see him again. granted, you gave luke no choice considering you'd shown up to the hockey rink with kayleigh—and this time, you waited for the boys after the game. waited for him.

the sight of luke walking out of the double doors that lead to the change room send your heart falling to your stomach. his face is straight, despite the win, and his hair is wet and freshly cleaned.

freshly cleaned because he didn't rush home to get back to you.

before you has the chance to leave, you step in front of him, hand enclosing around luke's bicep to pull him to a stop. his hazel eyes widen at the sight of you, staring up at him with a sad glint.

"I texted you." you say quietly.

luke swallows, his face pale. "i've been busy."

"you've been busy?" you repeat ludicrously, tone dripping with disbelief and venom. luke looks away, eyes trained on the worn tiles below his dress shoes. his avoidance of eye contact only irritates you further, "busy doing what exactly? avoiding me for god knows what reason. busy doing that?"

luke swallows, running hand through his soaked, curly locks. his eyes move around the bustling arena, making sure there wasn't any unwanted attention on either of you. "i've been keeping my distance. I just...I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

you blink, taking a step back. "and what's that?"

"that i'm...I don't know..into you. i'm not looking for anything right now. not with you, not with anybody."

tears prickle your waterline, threatening to spill over. you swallow roughly, so much so that it hurts. "are you serious? don't do this." you whisper timidly.

"you knew my intentions going into this, don't act like this," he mimics your hushed tone, eyes once again cast downwards.

"did I?" you huff in disbelief, "because it sure as hell seemed like more than you're saying it was." he stays silent, and that gives you the room to continue—tears trailing down your cheeks as anger bubbles up your chest. "so the banquets, and staying at each others places, and the small kisses and fucking take care of me while I throw up—holding me in your lap while I shake—that means nothing to you? is that what you're saying?"

nothing.

"god luke, answer me."

finally, luke meets your eyes. a beat passes, and then slowly he shakes his head. "I told you I wanted to be your friend. the other night...in the shower...I was just caught up in the moment and, I made a mistake."

you scoff, "you're a fucking asshole." you don't wait another second before turning away, sneaking through the lingering crowd of people with tears dripping off your face. you don't let yourself sob, not yet. friends and wolverine athletes eye you curiously, their faces contorting into expressions of pity as you rush past.

everything is in slow motion and you feel like you can't breath. you're so embarrassed—so heartbroken—and as you finally get outside and into the spring air is when you finally allow yourself to sob.

and all luke could do is watch you leave, even if he meant nothing that he said.

—

a/n: okay so don’t love this. I just feel like it’s kind of choppy and messy, but I like the idea of the story so I wanted to get it out! hopefully you like it and enjoy it!

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #nhl smut #nhl fanfic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #umich hockey #hockey smut #hockey fic #new jersey devils imagine

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bvidzsoo · 1 day ago

Text

So, you are Yunho...

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Warning: lots of weed consumption, cursing, unprotected sex Word count: 7.2k Rating: mature Genre: smut, stoner au, post uni setting, one-night stand au, humour(?) Summary: Your friend, rather your dealer, invites you to a party where you know few people, but the promise of a good time and most specifically weed convinces you to go. You have work the next day so you can't stay for too long, which prompts you to leave early. With your senses dulled and your mind hazy, you fail to notice just how badly you have to use the toilet, so that leads to you walking inside a kind stranger's home who just wants to help out...maybe in more ways than just one.

A/N: Hello, hi, yes, my lovelies, we don't speak of this! Whatever this man did to me at the concert needs to be studied because I haven't stopped thinking about him ever since--I think Mingi is actually quite in danger with being my nr1 as of now, only time can tell whether he'll get knocked down to nr2 lmao (although I'm keeping myself strong and not giving in to Mr. Jeong, as we can see with the existence of this damn drabble...) The smut isn't that big of a deal, once again, but I had to get this out of my system or else I would've gone crazy (guys, I haven't stopped thinking about Yunho since the 14th of February, I need to see my therapist again-). My brainrot was influenced by his outfit too, which you can't see too well in the pics since they are small but oh well, he was hot that's all you need to know (those pics are actually mine because I couldn't find anything on Pinterest and Twitter so, uhm...anyways). Lmk how this was, I promise to update Mingi's mini-series tomorrow! <3 I hope you enjoy, your feedback is much appreciated! ^^

Ending up in this place wasn’t part of your plan. If one would ask how you got here, you’d need a second to remember who in the first place had even dragged you here. There were only two people, though, who could, and it was most likely your friend—who wasn’t even your friend—but he’s adopted you into this weird friend group that wasn’t exactly a friend group, just a bunch of stupidly hot men who got together once in a while to smoke their minds out. If you recall correctly, it was the birthday of one of them, San, and you wondered how Yeosang even knew him. Maybe it was through Wooyoung, that’s how you’d met the pretty guy called Yeosang half a year ago, or maybe it was by pure chance on a night out when both Yeosang and San were, well, high…like right now. Laughter echoed around in the room, the music less loud compared to the living room where a makeshift dance floor was improvised by Wooyoung and someone called Seonghwa, who was hauntingly gorgeous, so you never spoke to him. His eyes seemed kind but his glare scared you shitless whenever you even as much so as looked in Hongjoong’s direction, at least you think that’s what the shorter one was called.

You had long stopped smoking, declining the joint being passed around a few times already. It’s gotten your mind all hazy and fuzzy, and you were sure that a little bit more would either knock you out or send you into an anxiety spiral that you didn’t need right now. Wooyoung, the only person who you knew relatively, seemed to be busy with making the birthday boy laugh any time he got the chance, so you knew no one could look out for you in case of an emergency. Maybe Yeosang, but his unfocused eyes told you that he couldn’t take care of himself in case of an emergency, let alone of another human being. It was alright, you didn’t mind since you knew your limits and just shook your head again when the guy next to you tried coaxing you into taking a whiff.

“Why are you even sitting in the circle if you won’t smoke?” He asked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. He’s been giving you judgmental looks for a while now, and while it was funny, you had a loose mouth while high and didn’t wish to get into a fight with one of Wooyoung’s friends…or, well, sort of friend.

“Does it say somewhere that this is a puff circle or something?” You quirked an eyebrow, your tone a bit sharp as the guy raised his eyebrows and passed the blunt to the intimidatingly tall guy sitting next to him, his lips pulled into a constant smile ever since he had sat down into your circle.

“It’s quite obvious, it doesn’t have to say so, sweets.” You chuckled, placing your chin in your palm.

“Already giving me petnames? I almost thought you hated my guts, not that you were trying to get into my pants with all that judgmental staring.” The man smirked, his pretty lips pulling into an amused grin as he leaned slightly closer to you. His manly perfume hit your nostrils and you needed a second to collect yourself, its scent too potent for your sensitive nose at the moment.

“The only person whose pants I wanna get into is Yeosang’s, sweets.” He winked as your eyebrow raised in question, eyes looking around the room blindly to find the mentioned man. He wasn’t here, making you realise that you were now in a room full of mostly strangers. That wasn’t an issue since you made conversation with anyone easily, but there was something underneath your skin tonight that made you a bit jumpy. It was strange, but weed did make you antsy from time to time if you didn’t feel completely safe in your environment, “I’m Jongho, by the way. I’ve already introduced myself, but I bet you’ve forgotten.”

You grinned at that, extending your hand for Jongho to shake, “Right, I can’t even recall when that happened.”

“Three months ago, sweets.” He snorted under his breath and took the blunt that was being passed back to him, different than the one he had been smoking, and you wondered whether mixing and matching right now was a safe option. But if Jongho thought it was alright, then it must be, he was a responsible adult after all, “How do you know San?”

“I’m supposed to know everyone sitting in this circle,” You pointed out, eyebrows furrowing when you still couldn’t recall the man’s name sitting next to Jongho, “But Wooyoung and I ran into him one time when we were running errands.”

“Did those errands include mind-blowing sex?” So, Jongho knew more than you thought at first, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as the extremely tall man next to Jongho laughed, leaning forward to look at your reddening face.

“Wooyoung’s not that good in bed, Joongie.” There was affection in his voice as he lightly pushed Jongho’s shoulder, and you wondered how close the two were.

“How’d you know?” Jongho wiggled his eyebrows, grabbing the guy’s chin to squeeze his cheeks together, “Thought you didn’t sleep with friends.”

The man giggled and sent a flying kiss at Jongho, which made him immediately release the very smoked-out guy’s chin, “I’ve spoken to enough people to know, besides, all it takes is one look at him…right, babe?”

A beat of silence passed as you looked at the two men, not realizing he was addressing you. He just blinked at you with his small eyes, lips jutting out as he waited for your answer. You blinked again, slightly more confused than you were before and Jongho snorted, throwing his arm around the guy’s shoulder and yanking him down to his height, “Y/N, this is Mingi. A bit of a flirt, a bit of a goofball, a sloppy kisser, but a great company.”

You spoke before you could think about it, grinning at the two guys, “And how’d you know that, Jongho?”

The guy cringed as Mingi tried to press a kiss to his cheek, instantly pushing him away and making you laugh at the murderous look on Jongho’s face, “Dare gone wrong, don’t make me recall it, please.”

“It wasn’t even bad!” Mingi exclaimed, sulking as the joint magically appeared in his hands since it was passed back by Yeosang, who finally came back inside the room holding three cups. He handed one to Hongjoong, whose eyes were rather red and glossy. Seonghwa sat beside him, whispering things before he helped the guy drink his water, a small thankful smile on his lips as he thanked Yeosang for the water.

“What wasn’t bad?” Yeosang asked just as your alarm went off, making you jump and Mingi yelp as it sharply cut through the somewhat serene atmosphere of the room. You got a few questioning glances as you tried to put the alarm out, but the words were blurred together on the screen of your phone so you needed a second to figure it all out.

“Don’t mind Mingi, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.” Jongho mused as he grabbed Yeosang’s wrist and roughly yanked him down, the not-so-petite man looking jostled by the sudden move. He gasped as he landed in Jongho’s lap, the liquid from his cup splashing onto his leather pants, a pout appearing on his face.

“You made me spill it.” He muttered to himself as Jongho hummed, his hand patting down the leather pants. You watched the two as you grabbed your cardigan from the floor and wore it, more than sure you’d be shivering outside in the late summer night’s refreshing breeze. You always felt too cold when you smoked weed, even if it was way too many degrees outside. Jongho’s palm settled on Yeosang’s thigh once he was done patting the water off, and you noticed the way his fingers flexed, Yeosang averted his eyes with a nervous gulp as he nudged Mingi with his elbow, “I mixed it for you, just don’t drink it fast.”

“Thanks!” Mingi grinned, necking the drink instantly, and you snorted as you made sure to pocket your phone to avoid what happened last time. It took Wooyoung three hours to find your lost phone, and then it took two more hours to listen to his nagging and chastising while you were trying to sleep, Wooyoung’s body heat making you sleepier and sleepier despite his sharp tone right by your ear.

“I’m going, guys, I have work in the morning.”

“Party popper!” Mingi shouted, making you laugh as others glanced at you again, “Be safe, though, do you want me to walk you?”

You grinned as you shook your head, making the room sway with you as you closed your eyes for a second. It didn’t help much, but at least it didn’t make you feel nauseous, “Thanks, but I know my way around…it’s not that late yet.”

“Call me if you need help, though.”

“She doesn’t even have your number, jackass,” Jongho muttered under his breath and Mingi huffed, turning his back to him and Yeosang, who didn’t look like he’d get off Jongho’s lap anytime soon.

“I’m not speaking to you, where’s Yunho?” You waved at the three men as you started walking away, catching Yeosang’s answer as he sighed and leaned back into Jongho’s body.

“Left a few minutes ago, said he was hungry and wanted to stream.” And with that, you left the house. You didn’t attempt finding Wooyoung since he was most probably entertaining the guests, too busy to notice either way that you were gone. You didn’t want to disturb his fun, so you made a mental note to text him once you had gotten home that you were safe and sound, ready to get into bed. Your apartment wasn’t too far from this neighbourhood, but you had to walk a good ten minutes until you reached the bus stop which had the right route to take you home. Your legs felt a bit heavy and the soles of your feet ached for some reason, but that might’ve had to do something with you standing on your feet all day long at work today. The call from Wooyoung was random this afternoon, and you accepted his invite without a second thought because you felt too wrung up, your boss getting on your last nerve. You were planning on quitting, but you had to find another job first and that wasn’t going as smoothly as you had wished. Being a receptionist wasn’t really your thing, and you’ve decided to finally make use of your business degree and find something that suits your interests better.

The evening air was cool, just like you had predicted, and you hugged your cardigan closer around yourself as you shivered, your feet not working as fast as you would’ve liked them to. The buses didn’t come and go as often as during the day, and you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait for too long at the station, goosebumps now covering your body as you walked down the sidewalk, glancing this and that way. The houses had almost all the lights turned off, most people were usually asleep after midnight. You should have been too, but you deserved to unwind after a long day and strenuous week…and it wasn’t even over yet. In your state, however, what you failed to notice before leaving the house was the fact that you had to pee, and badly at that. You licked your lips, wondering whether you could trick your mind into believing that you didn’t actually have to pee so badly and that you’d certainly be able to hold it in and get home first. But walking further down the street, you started to realise you were very wrong. You stopped and took a deep breath, debating what to do. You could just find a bush and do whatever, but were you ready to commit to that? It was a bit embarrassing, and if a police car could pass by—let alone a random person—you weren’t ready to expose yourself like that.

Deciding that walking would do for now, maybe you’d find an open store and ask them to let you in, you took off again and almost cried at the pressing feeling in your lower abdomen. It was terrible, you were screwed, and your smoked-out brain wasn’t actually helping with finding smart and safe solutions, it was only making you panic and almost hyperventilate. You jumped as a door closed loudly to your right, and as you turned your head, your eyes fell on a really tall guy who was walking towards you. A dark trash bag was in his left hand while a cigarette was in his right hand, raising it to his pouty lips to take a drag of it as he continued walking towards you, his eyes on you. You gulped, suddenly feeling frozen in your spot as he opened the small gate separating his front lawn from the sidewalk, his eyes still on you as he held the cigarette between his lips to open the trash bin closest to you, throwing the bag inside. You licked your lips again, eyes falling on the cigarette and intermittently on the guy’s puckered lips, and you felt a sudden pull. A strong one at that, your inside coiling as your eyes raked all over the man’s body, slightly off thrown by how handsome he was. And before you could think first and feel ashamed, your mouth was already moving, “Can you let me go inside to pee?”

The guy paused, his eyebrows shooting up underneath his blonde hair, which framed his forehead as a black beanie was pulled over his head, “Like—inside my house?”

You nodded quickly, crossing your legs because you genuinely were on the verge of giving it all up. The guy gave you a look of slight concern mixed with amusement, then nodded his head towards his house, “Sure, come on inside.”

And before he could open the gate for you and lead the way, you sprinted past him, hearing his loud snort as you practically barged inside his home. The lights were mostly on and you whipped your head around as the guy walked up behind you, nodding his chin to the only door in the hallway, “That’s the bathroom, go on.”

He wasn’t finished speaking and you were already messily stepping out of your sneakers, almost tripping and embarrassing yourself even further in front of the hot guy. You barged inside the bathroom and fiddled with the light switch before you found it, locking the door behind you as you then raced towards the toilet, your skirt above your hips before you had even sat down. A groan left your lips at the instant relief and you lowered your head, holding it in your hands. It was warm inside the bathroom and you could feel your trembling limbs finally ease up a little bit, your head swimming around now worse than before due to all your hectic movements just now. You wondered how to thank the guy for letting you inside as you finished up, flushing the toilet and then walking over to the sink. Your cheeks were red so you splayed some cold water on them, groaning at the feeling as you dried your hands in your black skirt. You sighed as you looked at yourself, trying to tell yourself that this wasn’t as embarrassing as peeing yourself would have been, and that you were just really lucky that a kind stranger allowed you to use their bathroom. Which reminded you of the fact that you had to walk out before he started thinking you were doing something weird inside his bathroom.

You opened the door and peeked your head around the doorframe, finding the guy sitting on the table, which was pressed up by the wall behind the front door. You jumped in fright as you didn’t expect him to be there, and cleared your throat when you realised that he had been watching the bathroom door the whole time. Smoke wafted from around his lips as you flipped the switch and then closed the bathroom door behind you, trying to keep your eyes on his face, but you were just too embarrassed. He looked…more amused than annoyed or judgemental, and he even chuckled when you stumbled into the wall since you failed to notice the huge Golden Retriever underneath your feet.

“Oh my God,” You muttered to yourself as you looked down at the cute dog, its tongue out as it stared up at you, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

The dog then plunged off the floor on his two back legs, jumping up on you and making you yelp as your back hit the wall again. A laugh left your lips as you ruffled the fur on its head, petting the dog while it tried licking at your face. The guy just continued to sit on the table, watching you with an amused look on his face, cigarette held between his thumb and index finger.

“Get down, boy, you’ll make her fall over.” He called out, whistling to get the dog’s attention. You didn’t mind the friendly animal, but its weight was getting a bit too much, so you were thankful when it finally got off you and headed towards its owner. The dog’s tail was waging as it barked lightly, rubbing its head against the guy’s leg to make him pat it. You grinned as you readjusted your cardigan, its sleeve having fallen off your shoulder.

“That’s a cute dog.” You heard yourself saying, making the man look at you again. He wore dark grey loose jeans, a long-sleeved black blouse and over that a black t-shirt that reached just below his crotch. There was also a chequered-patterned shirt tied underneath all those clothes loosely, and you wondered if the guy had just arrived home. His street-like outfit paired with a black beanie with his dirty blonde hair falling into his dark eyes made the guy really attractive, and you needed to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be staring at him so blatantly. But the weed made your brain process everything slower, so you couldn’t exactly help yourself this one time.

“Cute and harmless, seems like he likes you.” The guy commented, his lips pulled to the side as he pushed the dog’s head away playfully, making it bark again before it ran off further into the house. You didn’t turn to watch the dog go, not wanting to peek further inside this stranger’s home. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, and that made you realise you had definitely overstayed your welcome. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to seem like you had your shit together while the world whirled around you, “I don’t assume you want to also sleep over?”

You gulped, surprise coating your expression as you felt your cheeks heating up, “I was just about to go, I’m really sorry about all of this. The bus stop is quite the walk away and I would have—I mean, yeah, I really had to use the bathroom, so, thanks.”

The guy watched you with even more amusement on his face, and you averted your eyes when he took a whiff of his cigarette, rounding his already pouty lips and puffing out circles. You tried not to watch but it was incredibly hot, you gulped, your throat feeling rather dry all of a sudden.

“Pity,” The guy smirked, getting off the table as he walked over to the front door to open it for you, “I’m a great cook, could’ve made you something nice in the morning.”

Well, fuck that. You hummed with a forced smile on your lips, trying not to ogle his body as you passed by him, his sweet perfume permeating your senses as your jaw clenched. He wasn’t just hot, he smelled good too, and that was maybe your undoing. You reached the door and stopped next to him, looking up at him with a loud gulp as he continued to smirk at you, extending his cigarette towards you. How was it still lit? Had he gotten a new one while you were in the bathroom? But then again, it didn’t stink like the usual cigarette, and the realisation hit you at the same time as the guy spoke up, “Want a hit? It’s not too strong, I’ve rolled it like twenty minutes ago.”

You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the blunt, debating it. But there were multiple reasons why you shouldn’t accept it, and yet you were still debating it, “I mean…I have work in the morning.”

“That’s not a no.” He smirked, stepping slightly closer, and then pushed the blunt into your hand, giving you no choice but to take it, “I saw you at San’s party, you came with Wooyoung, right? Where’d you leave him?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you raised the blunt and took a tentative drag of it, glad that it didn’t taste as disgusting as the one Wooyoung had made at the party, “He’s with San, I didn’t want to bother them. Who are you?”

“Yunho,” The guy answered as you handed him the blunt back, surprising you by gently closing the door right in your face. You looked at the empty space now in front of you and felt goosebumps on your skin as you looked back up at Yunho, his grin not too menacing, “Wanna play some games?”

“That’s…that sounds scary.” You muttered, only now realising you really were just about to leave without your shoes. Just how high were you if you weren’t even sensing what your body needed anymore?

“I meant on the switch, Jesus.” The guy chuckled, turning around and walking further inside the house as he turned the light off in the hallway, leaving you alone and in darkness. Your heart raced both in slight scare and intrigue, “If you don’t want to, you can just go! I’ll lock the door later, Mingi’s supposed to come over either way.”

“You know Mingi?” You heard yourself asking, and then instantly realised, “Ah! You’re the Yunho who left the party because he wanted to stream?”

“And also eat ramen.” He appeared around the corner again with a smile, holding a cup of ramen up sheepishly, “I made too much, so, if you’re hungry…”

Damn, so he was one of Wooyoung’s friends…would it be too bad if you stayed for some ramen and maybe a game or two? You hoped not. Before you could convince yourself that staying to eat ramen and play games with a guy you didn’t know wasn’t smart, you found yourself nodding to Yunho’s silent offer, making his smile instantly widen. He turned and then led the way further inside his house, your eyes were a bit hazy and you struggled to see in the dark, but thankfully the next room was flooded with light as Yunho had led the way to the kitchen, his cute dog sitting by the counter and hungrily staring up at the other cup filled with ramen.

“Are you sure this is for me?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows as Yunho nudged his dog when it wouldn’t move aside, the two sharing a look as if they could communicate. Maybe Yunho could speak to animals, you almost giggled to yourself at the ridiculous thought.

“Yeah, sure, Mingi doesn’t like ramen when he’s high, it would only go to waste,” Yunho explained, then grabbed the cup of ramen and pressed it against your chest, giving you no choice but to take it. You nodded as you looked down at it, its scent was delicious and you couldn’t remember when was the last time you ate today, so you grabbed the chopsticks and went to town with it.

“How do you know Mingi?” You asked to fill the silence just as Yunho’s dog whined, looking up with puppy eyes at its owner and you chuckled, amused by the blush that suddenly spread to Yunho’s ears and neck.

“Stop that,” He muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the dog, “You’re embarrassing me, Shnucks.”

You paused, eyebrows furrowing as you couldn’t decide whether to laugh or not, “Your dog’s name is…Shnucks?”

When Yunho just nodded, very obviously letting some of the ramen slip to the floor for his dog, you burst out laughing, “What type of name is that?!”

“A silly one, just like this fella.” Yunho giggled, and the sound made your heart lurch as you stared at his handsome face, his cheeks lightly flushed and puffed out as he was munching his food, “Mingi named him, we were both high when we got the doggo. It’s ours, actually.”

“You live with Mingi?”

“Nah, we switch babysitting every other week.” Yunho shrugged, raising his eyes to look at you with mischief, “Don’t tell Mingi, but the fella likes me more than him.”

“Has he told you?” You teased Yunho with an amused smile as you gulped down more of your ramen, the warm food settling nicely in your stomach.

“Of course,” Yunho giggled again, licking his lips as he placed his cup down on the counter, rubbing his hands together, “So, how do you know Wooyoung?”

“Uh, well…that’s a long story?” You quirked an eyebrow, wondering how to make it simple for Yunho. It wasn’t actually that complicated, but you didn’t want to go into detail.

“Make it quick, then, I wanna go play.”

“And stream?”

“Nah, not anymore.” Licking his lips, Yunho leaned slightly down to be closer to your face, “I’ve got a playmate now.”

You gulped, trying not to think more into his words, but the way he eyed you up had your blood rushing quicker through your body, something burning low in your abdomen. You tried to ignore it as you smiled, placing your cup down next to Yunho’s abandoned one as you heard Shnucks’ paws pitter-patter against the floorboards as he walked away from the kitchen, “Right, I’m not good at games, though…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to take it.” You shrunk a bit in on yourself as Yunho chuckled, tapping the tip of your nose before he gently grabbed your elbow to veer you towards the living room, “My blows, I mean, I rarely lose so I hope you’re ready to face defeat.”

“You’re not being very encouraging right now.” You narrowed your eyes at Yunho as he chuckled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. You knew you were staring at him, but you couldn’t help yourself when the guy right in front of you looked like that. As you arrived inside the living room, which was a very simple space with a couch in the middle of the room, a TV with his switch station hooked up to it and a desk underneath the window, you realised you still hadn’t answered Yunho’s question about how you knew Wooyoung, “Back to Woo, uhm, well…we stumbled into each other at a club and hit it off well…and I guess we are friends now?”

“So, he’s your dealer, huh?” Your eyes widened minusculely as you whipped your head around to look up at Yunho, who had a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, that’s how we all met Wooyoung, don’t worry. He’s a funny guy but he can’t take a hint for the life of him.”

“Meaning?” You asked as you sat down on the grey sofa while Yunho went to turn on the TV as well as the switch, taking two gaming consoles before he walked back towards you. The sofa wasn’t huge but it had enough space for the two of you to sit comfortably without touching, however, that wasn’t the case as Yunho sat down so close next to you that your thighs were pressed up to each other. You decided to ignore it as his body heat permeated yours, your eyes meeting for a second as he handed you one of the consoles. Your fingers brushed together and your heart skipped a beat once again, but you quickly averted your eyes as Yunho smirked again, facing the TV.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” Your cheeks flushed at Yunho’s words, but before you could think more of it, he continued, “Are you ready to get obliterated in Mario Kart?”

“That’s really fucking rude, Yunho, I know how to play that game!” Yunho just laughed as he started the game, a knowing look still on his face. You, in fact, were not ready for the embarrassing number of times you’ve lost to Yunho in something as pathetic as Mario Kart. He was having the time of his life, teasing you and laughing at you at any given chance, only managing to work you up more and more until you couldn’t contain your rage and ended up threatening to exit the game while Yunho was scoring the most of points. He thought you were joking at first so he only laughed more, but after you did it once, he knew not to mess around with you anymore.

You had no idea for how long you and Yunho had been playing on his switch, but you were sure you were close to hitting the second hour. Your ass had gone numb and your legs were a bit antsy, but you were determined to win against Yunho in this round, finally having gotten the hang of the new game he had shown you. That was until you felt Yunho’s large hand sneaking up your thigh, just underneath the hem of your skirt to squeeze your thigh and tell you to be a good girl. It took one shared glance filled with heat to have you crawling over his lap, your lips meeting in a frenzied kiss. It was hot, messy with spit and full of teeth as Yunho’s fingers dug into your hips, pulling your body as tightly into his as he could. Your fingers curled into the blonde hair at his nape, the beanie still on his head, and you gasped when he started kneading your ass cheeks roughly. Ripping the beanie off his head, you yanked his head back and kissed down his neck, open-mouthed kisses that left marks on his milky skin.

Yunho was breathing hard as he let you have your way with him for the time being, and in your dazed state, you hadn’t even noticed the way he had started rubbing his bulge against your core, pulling you lower into himself. Sounds spilt from your mouth as Yunho grabbed the back of your head and pulled your face up, staring at you with hazy eyes before he smashed your lips back together, groaning into your mouth as you rolled your hips forward while pressing down a bit harder, gasping into his mouth as the friction finally increased. He was big but perhaps you weren’t too surprised by it, his height should’ve been a fair warning that he was packing downstairs as well. Your skin felt hot, and perhaps Yunho could feel it too because his long fingers hooked into the collar of your cardigan and slowly slipped it down your shoulders while grazing his fingertips against your arms, covering your skin in goosebumps. Your head lolled back as Yunho dived forward again, sucking bruises into your collarbones that you’d hate tomorrow but right now felt euphoric as his hot tongue swiped against the small bruises to soothe the bites.

“I’ve been eyeing you up all night,” Yunho whispered in your ear as you fumbled with the hems of his layered shirts, “Who knew you’d stumble right into my lap?”

You chuckled as your fingers finally found the button and zipper of his pants, making swift work with them as your eyes met Yunho’s, “Yeah? I don’t recall seeing you.”

“That’s because you were busy with Wooyoung…until he left you alone to entertain San.” Yunho smirked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “Much to my happiness…I thought you’d go home with him tonight.”

You smirked and yanked at Yunho’s pants, pulling them as down as you could due to him sitting on the sofa. His eyes fell down onto your hands, which were slowly slipping inside his boxers, a wet patch already staining the fabric. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning too widely, it brought satisfaction to know Yunho was in such a state so quickly and from just a little bit of sloppy kissing. It might’ve been the weed adding to it as well, but you disregarded that thought as you teased the skin underneath the elastic of his boxers, “Wooyoung and I aren’t a thing.”

Yunho scoffed a chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding it finally onto his dick. He gulped as your eyes bore into each other’s and you chuckled, gripping his shaft before very slowly dragging your hand up and down. He gulped, his pupils blown wide as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, the fingers that still gripped your hip now digging into your skin through your thin blouse.

“I would’ve fucked you even if you were a thing.” Yunho groaned out, face contorting in pleasure as you twisted your wrist, smearing his precum around the head of his dick. His cheeks were flushed, the redness spreading down to his chest as his eyes fluttered closed before you squeezed him a bit harder.

“Right,” You mocked, cocking an eyebrow as you fastened your pace, having Yunho whimper underneath you, “You speak as if you had the balls to approach me at the party, Yunho.”

Yunho gulped and closed his eyes, letting you do whatever as you watched the pleasure on his face, making your lower abdomen burn as you yearned to be touched as well. Yunho still held your wrist as he gasped for air, and you dove forward, kissing his neck and playfully biting his Adam’s Apple as Yunho’s dick twitched in your hand. That seemed to make him realise he was neglecting you, and before you knew it, you were being flipped over and pinned to the sofa. It was rather uncomfortable, Yunho was too big for the sofa and it felt like you disappeared completely underneath him, which only made the fire burn stronger in your stomach. You gulped as he smirked, finally pulling the many layers covering his torso over his head, baring his naked skin to you. Your eyes took in the dark brown spots, the little moles that littered his fair skin and you reached out to touch them, trace them as Yunho got rid of his jeans, clumsily shaking them off his legs. He tucked himself back into his boxer, then flipped your skirt up and grinned, tracing the outside of your thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched Yunho’s dark eyes trace your body hungrily, and he leaned down to press soft kisses against your navel, making your stomach coil. You tried to close your legs out of instinct, but Yunho stopped you by planting himself firmly between your thighs, gripping your left thigh with a bruising force. You shuddered as his finger now traced dangerously close to where you needed him most, and he smirked as he pressed down on the wet patch making you gasp.

“Look at you,” He chuckled then, pushing your panties to the side and not even warning you before two long fingers entered you, making you gasp loudly. You grabbed his arm as your back arched, eyes boring into his as he set a fast pace from the start, your breath quickening to the point you thought you’d start hyperventilating, “You’re even prettier underneath me.”

You moaned quietly, your toes curling with Yunho’s fingers as he plunged deeper, hitting sensitive nerves that made you see nothing but darkness for a second. He seemed to be enjoying your reactions as he added a third finger, stretching you out for something you knew you needed prepping for. Your hands trembled as your hips kicked off the sofa to match his thrust, and you called his name when he started rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Fuck, there, keep going.”

But instead of doing what he was told, Yunho stopped and chuckled, pulling his fingers out and making you sit up as you realized he was about to get off the sofa. He raised an eyebrow as his smirk returned, then, he leaned in for a kiss before pushing you back down onto the sofa, “Don’t worry, I usually finish what I start.”

“Then where are you going?” You snapped, your desire bleeding into your tone as Yunho clicked his tongue, grabbing you by the elbows and yanking you up.

“Don’t you want to ride me?” You cursed silently as he continued to smirk at you wickedly, settling you back on his lap. This time, however, you wasted no time and pulled his dick out of his boxers, allowing him to push your panties to the side as you aligned yourself, very slowly sinking down on his dick. The initial stretch was unpleasant and you didn’t try to rush as your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that the guys were right all this time. Wooyoung did have a small dick compared to Yunho, and your toes curled just at the thought of what he’d be capable of doing to you.

Yunho held your hips as he guided you down all the way and your fingers curled into his shoulder, nails digging into his hot skin as your eyes squeezed shut, “Fuck, gimme a second.”

“Too much compared to Woo?” Yunho’s voice was amused as he rubbed circles into your skin and your jaw clenched as your eyes snapped open.

“Don’t bring Woo into this, he’s not a terrible lay at all.” Your tone was harsh, maybe you weren’t too close with Wooyoung, but he was a decent person and you didn’t want Yunho making fun of him in any way. Besides, he was ruining your mood by bringing Wooyoung up right now, “He’s attentive, unlike many guys.”

“Can’t have that, then.” Yunho chuckled, an evil grin spreading onto his lips then, “Let me fuck you properly.”

And then he lifted you and slammed you back down on his dick, making your eyes round in surprise as you gasped, falling forward into his body. Yunho chuckled then fumbled with your blouse before he was bringing it over your head, burying his head into the valley of your breasts as you lifted your hips on your own, his dick dragging against your walls and making you keen. He was big and it reached places few managed before, you took a deep breath before sinking down again, the pace not too rushed since you wanted to enjoy the ride. Yunho’s teeth nicked at your skin, sucking a hickey right above your breast where the skin was thin and sensitive, making you moan as you let him set the pace by guiding you up and down his dick. It wasn’t too fast, but it was just enough to have your back arching towards him, fingers gripping into his hair and yanking his head back to look into your eyes. Yunho grinned before he smashed your lips together, finally thrusting up into you and meeting you halfway, a whimper leaving your mouth.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, gasps and keens leaving your lips against Yunho’s mouth as he quickened his pace, pistoning up into you as your thighs trembled trying to keep up with him. It hasn’t been long since you’ve had sex, but it has never been like this one. It was fast, hot, and loud as Yunho kept slamming back up into you, quiet grunts leaving his lips as you pressed your mouth against his jaw to try and keep quiet. You weren’t one to be loud in bed, but when Yunho hit a specific spot, your back arched and a loud moan left your lips as your arms circled his shoulders.

“Keep going, there.” Your jaw clenched as Yunho hummed, shifting his hands to grip your ass for better guidance, the slapping sounds echoing nastily in the room as your eyes squeezed shut.

“Feels amazing,” Yunho groaned against your neck, hissing as your walls clenched around his length. “I’m close.”

“Already?” Your eyebrows furrowed as Yunho hummed, continuing his relenting thrusts, and you found yourself unable to speak or even take a full breath as he drew you closer to your own orgasm as well. But you realized he didn’t use a condom, which wasn’t a smart idea, you had forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, and spoke up hurriedly, “You can’t come inside.”

“Fuck, please?” There was a whine to Yunho’s tone as his hand wrapped around your throat while the other continued to knead your ass, and you bit your bottom lip, eyes boring into his. You were tempted to give in to him, to just say yes and let him fill you up, but you couldn’t be so irresponsible, so you shook your head and kissed his lips instead to appease him. Yunho groaned but continued to hit your sweet spot over and over again, your body buzzing and trembling at the same time as you drew closer and closer, but then he was pulling out and jerking himself off, his throat convulsing as he came all over his stomach, his body going limp underneath yours. He looked hot, but you were clenching around nothing and you weren’t about to leave this place without coming too, so you grabbed his hand off your ass and guided it to your core, nudging his cheek with your nose.

“You’re forgetting something,” When he made no move, you smirked, biting his earlobe before whispering, “I always come with Woo, it really isn’t about the size but the skills, Yunho…”

That was all it took for Yunho to kick back into action, three fingers entering you at last as his thumb rubbed your clit fast in circular motions, making you choke on your next inhale. Your eyes squeezed shut as keens left your mouth, the closer you got, the higher they went in pitch until Yunho’s fingers managed to hit your sweet spot again and again, tipping you off the edge as your body locked and your back arched. You moaned into Yunho’s ear and he groaned, kissing your neck as his fingers guided you through your release, getting too much when his fingers didn’t stop plunging back into you. You stopped him and slumped against him, his sweet perfume on your lips, tongue, and in your nose, as you pressed a kiss against a mole on his chest. Yunho’s breathing had significantly calmed down, but you were still fighting to find your breath. Then, there was a noise coming from the front door and Shnucks came suddenly barrelling outside of a room, barking loudly.

“Mingi’s home.” Yunho said with a smirk as he suddenly stood from the sofa, your legs around his hips as he led you towards an unknown room, “Let’s get you covered up, unless you want him to see us like this…”

“He’s not my type.” You said with a lazy smile as you felt satisfied by how your night had turned out.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho chuckled then pressed a kiss against your nose as he closed the door behind you two, “He is mine…”

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moonzzip · 2 days ago

Text

coffee and nail polish | kwon jiyong

a/n — i wanted something fluff with jiyong, less angst for you guys, I hope you like it! feel free to correct grammar mistakes kindly!

summary: you and jiyong haven't seen each other in weeks, you two relax

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: discreet mention of body shape, orange hair jiyong (i love it) , idol!(?)reader, mentioned bigbang, reader is kind of self-critical, slight comfort, fluff, slight crack

lowercase letters, word count: 1,4k

"jiyong, if you keep moving, i'm going to hit you." you say, biting your tongue in concentration, holding the tip of jiyong's finger with the tips of your own, while your other hand grips one of the brushes from the eight nail polishes you'd be using to paint his nails. he's sitting in a small armchair, and you're on the floor.

how did you two end up in this situation?

it had been about three and a half weeks since you last saw each other in person. bigbang had just made their latest comeback, and the promotions for it were much more intense compared to before—not that it was a bad thing, just overwhelmingly exhausting. the m/v had absolutely blown up, and you would consider it your favorite song of theirs if it weren’t for (your bigbang fav/ song), but that’s not important right now.

it wasn't just him who had been busy. you were tirelessly working toward your own debut, spending countless hours perfecting your dance, vocals, rap, and all the other things idols do as trainees. god, if only you had known how long m/v recordings took, you might have thought twice before becoming an idol. but seeing the final result made the exhaustion disappear almost instantly.

the fact that you both missed each other was undeniable.

you’ve known jiyong for a little over five years now. the difference between before and now is obvious—not just in his appearance, but in his personality as well. you remember that 2010 boy whose style was completely different, whose voice and personality had made a full 360-degree turn. his opinions changed, and he seems much more relaxed, much freer than when you first met him. especially now that he's focused on his new project, 'peaceminusone'—if you’re remembering it correctly.

you support him in everything he does, just as he supported you through your difficult trainee days—because he went through it too.

out of all the hair colors he’s had, this orange one is by far your favorite. you think about making a cute leaf-shaped hair clip for him so he can look like an actual tangerine.you chuckle at the thought.

"hey, what's so funny?" jiyong asks, looking at you.

"nothing, just thought of something funny," you reply. he gives you a slow once-over, his gaze filled with silent judgment.

"you're weird.", you pinch the top of his hand, nearly smudging the polish.

"i'm weird, but you're my friend, so you'll have to put up with me for a while longer. i'm not giving up that easily." you say confidently, met with silence. jiyong doesn’t deny it, just lets out a sarcastic scoff.

"i'll think twice before talking to weird trainees—" you pinch him again for moving, and he falls silent.

the atmosphere between you two is relaxed and calm. talking makes it even better, but the silence is just as comforting. neither of you feels the need to fill the space with constant conversation—it's just cozy.

"are you nervous? you know, about debuting?"

hearing his voice, you glance up at him before returning to painting his nails.

"a little… but i'm working on it." you exhale lightly, and jiyong watches you in silence.

"i want to give my best in this. i feel like there are expectations i need to surpass—i need to surpass myself, in general. i feel like i have to improve, i know i have to improve. not just for me, but for the group."

without realizing it, you release his hand.

even before meeting jiyong, you had always been an incredibly dedicated trainee (and you still are). you'd wake up before the practice room even opened, stretching in the hallway until they let you in. you followed a balanced diet—not starving yourself, just keeping yourself healthy. you always helped other trainees with their struggles, answering questions and giving advice based on what you had learned. you always had new tips to share because of your nightly study sessions, though you never stayed up too late. always punctual.

how did you meet him?

well... that’s a bit embarrassing.

on one of those late-night study sessions, you knew you shouldn’t have stayed up so long, but you felt like you were on an unstoppable roll, so you pushed through. but not before grabbing a coffee.

you silently left the dorm, careful not to wake anyone, and opened the door, planning to head to the vending machine at the end of the hallway near the practice room. one coffee wouldn’t hurt, right? …ah, such naivety.

it was dark everywhere except for a dim light coming from inside the practice room. you managed to navigate the hallway thanks to that weak glow slipping through the slightly ajar door.

since the door was old, it usually got stuck. you leaned against the wall and carefully made your way to it, leaning your body on it to continue on your way, but what you didn’t count on was the door deciding to function normally that night.

and on top of that, you tripped on a loose tile, throwing all your weight onto the door, and—

now—

you hit the floor with a loud thud, like a sack of potatoes.

you didn’t even think. your whole body ached, but you didn’t make a sound. your forehead hit the wooden floor, leaving you a bit dizzy but still conscious. and then you made a split-second decision: you'd just… pretend to be unconscious.

no one would bother you, you wouldn’t have to see who witnessed your humiliating fall, and that would spare you from any embarrassment. the position was even kind of comfortable, so it wouldn't be hard to keep up the act, and—

"i saw your foot move."

internally, you died. of shame, obviously.

oh. my. god.

you felt like the stupidest person alive.who, in their right mind, falls and then just stays on the floor pretending to pass out? you wanted to disappear, to die, to evaporate into thin air and be carried away by a nearby fan.

enough thinking.

"ahh…" you groaned, slowly getting on your knees, staring at the floor. "i think i blacked out for a second, hahaha."

you let out an awkward, robotic laugh, placing a hand on your forehead before looking up—and seeing him.

your eyes widened, not just because g-dragon, bigbang's leader, was standing in front of you, but because you were wearing the worst pair of pajamas in your closet.

why did you even come down in pajamas? you had no idea. but that was all your brain could focus on. your hand slid from your forehead to cover your eyes instead.

the universe hated you, you concluded.

the man just stared at you, confused, while his practice music still played softly in the background.

you shook your head, snapping out of your old memories.

you looked down at jiyong’s hand, but before you could grab his finger again, you felt a hand gently stroking your hair.

"i don’t think you should worry," his voice was calm.

your eyes lifted to meet his in silence.

"i don’t think there’s anyone i know who deserves to debut more than you. you’ve always worked hard, and you deserve this more than anyone. so don’t doubt yourself."

you just stared at him for a moment before letting out a soft, amused scoff.

"i guess so…"

and then, silence settled again. but jiyong's hand remained in your hair.

his chest ached hearing you speak about yourself like that. he didn’t fully understand the feeling, but he knew none of your efforts had been in vain. only he truly knew how much you pushed yourself.

just as you knew everything about him, he knew everything about you.

your bond had always been close—full of unconditional support and deep connection. hugs were common, physical touch between you two was natural. he loved hugging you and being hugged by you, just as you loved his hugs and giving him yours. you were always helping each other, always doing little favors, sharing an incomprehensible partnership filled with warmth and affection.

"jiyong, if your nail polish smudges because you're messing with my hair, i will kill you."

he said nothing, just rolled his eyes—but didn’t move his hand.and he smiled.

he had never been more grateful for an unbought coffee that night.

a/n – thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, I think all the ideas I have come from beyond... this time I wrote it listening to 'interlude : shadow' by yoongi, I love this song so much... feel free to correct me of any grammatical mistakes!

#gn!reader #gdragon x reader #kpop #kwon jiyong x reader #g dragon #bigbang x reader #bigbang gdragon #kwon jiyong #jiyong x reader

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ltgubler · 2 days ago

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Behind closed doors. | s.r. |

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: forbidden relationship, secrets, college professor x student.

The dim light of the hallway was guiding your path down to his office; the darkness of night covered every window, there wasn't a soul around to hear the sound of your steps echoing, or maybe that echo was the beating of your heart chiming like clockwork in your eardrums.

His office door was slightly open, an orange hue of light casting from the lamp sitting at his desk. It was that familiar sight of the previous moment to get to his arms. With a soft knock to announce yourself you stepped in, closing the door behind you.

"Hi." —you said with the shy voice you always have when you see him, something that has become inevitable. He raised his head from the pile of papers on top of his desk. As you looked at him you dissected every tiny detail: the frame of his glasses delicately resting on the bridge of his nose, the loose tie around his neck, that soft rebel curl that always fells down over his forehead, the blue ink stains on his hands.

"Did anyone see you?" —he asked you as you dropped your bag and walked to him. The rules have been crystal clear since this started, no one can see you, no one can find out.

The first time it happened was on accident, pure coincidence, right place, right time, and definitely right person. There wasn't any scenario were this was going to end up well, everything was at risk. His job, his reputation, your scholarship, everything you two worked so hard to get, to achieve; in a blink of an eye you could lose everything, but neither him nor you seemed to care.

"The building was empty, kind of creepy actually." —you pointed out, standing beside him, waiting for his touch. His arm strongly wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his embrace.

"I missed you, my classes are dull since you finished my course." —he confessed as he sat you on his lap, his nose ghosted over the skin of your shoulder. –"No one comes close to your brain, you know?"

His words were music to your ears, the way he praised you was what got you into this, into him.

"I don't think that's fair for your new students." —A soft little laugh escaped his lips.

"Maybe not, but I couldn't care less about them." —You raised your eyebrows, surprised. –"No, I mean... Of course I care about them. I just miss you." —he breathed out, defeated.

"I missed you too, by the way." — you confession made him squeez you tighter. As his chin rested on you shoulder, his nose buried on your hair, you couldn't stop yourself from wondering. –"Do you think this could have a happy ending?" —your words hung on the air for a little too long.

"I don't know." —he finally responded. His fingers traced loose patterns over your thigh, his mind trying to put together something to say, something that could make both of you feel better. –"It's hard picturing the future... We been living day by day, why would we be worried about something we can't control?" —His words fell heavy on the pit of your stomach, the uncertainty, the empty promises. Risking it all for something he couldn't project forward.

"Then why are we doing this?" —your voice broke the silence that flooded his office. –"If you don't see a future with me, why do you keep me around?" –his demeanor shifter, his body tensed up.

"That's not what I mean, not at all." —he leaned back on his chair, his hands still on you, but it felt like he was taking distance, even if you where still sitting on his lap. –"I want to see a future with you, believe me. But that future feels far away, and I don't want to lose what we have now."

"What we have is a secret, Spencer." —your words hit him. His eyes scanned your face, trying to read you. –"Is it worth it risking everything? I could lose it all, I'm in constant fear of being caught, and I'm not only scared about me, I am for you too. This job is your life, and in the blink of an eye everything can crumble down..."

"Please... Please don't." —his whispered words made you stop, his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer. Your forehead rested on his, his breath warm against your skin. –"Maybe I can't face the fact that I'm terrified, I can't imagine losing you, my love. The idea of not having you is devastating. I can't picture my mornings without you, not waking up to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of your laughter." —the worry in your eyes made him realize that everything he thought was wrong, there wasn't a single scenario in his head where you weren't a part of. After the longest pause he spoke again, putting you at ease. –"I guess I am picturing a future with you, because the sole idea of being without you is making my heart ache."

It felt genuine, it felt real, it felt right. You felt yourself melting into his embrace, your body fitting against his like two puzzle pieces that belonged together. His lips ghosted over yours, leaving you craving for more that just a caress of them.

"___, I love you more than words can describe, for you I would risk everything, because there's nothing left for me if there's no you." —his words were pure, a raw emotion that came straight from his heart, aiming for yours. "And if I have to prove myself to you, I'll do it."

"You don't have to prove anything." –your soft, vulnerable whisper made his heart skip a beat.

"Wrong. I have to prove everything, because how are you gonna know that I love you if I keep quiet." –there was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Knowing that you love me is enough." —he could feel his heart beating faster at your words.

"Then I'll keep telling you until you get tired of me, but please, don't get tired of me." —there was a vulnerability he never showed before.

"I promise I won't get tired." —he smiled and buried his face on the crook of your neck.

The silence grew for a moment, comfortable and warm, no words were needed after that confession, nothing else to say. You closed your eyes as you sat comfortable on him, the place where you belong.

"I love you, ___" —he whispered and you knew there was no turning back now.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fandom #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #my fic #fanfic #one shot #forbidden love #professor x student

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pumpkinstrawbrew · 1 day ago

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𝔐𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢, 𝔉𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔡𝔬𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔩𝔩, 𝔗𝔥’ 𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢. █ 𝔐𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔪𝔢𝔫’𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔄𝔱 𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥 𝔳𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡: 𝔉𝔬𝔯 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔢 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔞𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.

...

(so mm. i’m working on BTAS scarebat fic atm, an’ my brain thought that i can also sit down an’ begin drawing smth related to that around 3 in the morning 6 days ago, bc why not.

nothing here is related to the plot of the story i’m working on. or well, not directly at least. i’d say, that i consider this collage of arts as ‘circle’ of their possible relationships in a way. including the ‘circle’ of their expressions an’ what can be or cannot be seen, regarding bruce’s shadowy batman mode an’ how in two arts, jon’s expression is hidden from the view. this all has an extra, tiny bit of a meaning. about which i’m on my way to ramble about. i have some of that good shippy energy inside my weary bones today! what a day!

but alright, so the first one *at the very top* is smth of a scarebat classic to me. snap picture centered on the idea, that even if they will have close an’ intimate relationships, jonathan still be jonathan, basically. still, be somewhat poisonous an’ dangerous to keep this near, even if he’s gentle of the bat back. an’ bruce even knowing all this, still gets tangled into it, as’ their ‘natures’ clash like that. as they are two ‘monsters’ of the night. two people with ideas, that feel larger than they are. this might be a moment in one of their 'fear battles', where bruce is pissed off, or well, righteously angry as i call it, while jonathan faces him an’ what kind of expression he makes is anyone’s guess, but it’s prob an evil one. even if personally, imagine it more whimsical. less dramatic evil an' more campy evil. the whole villainous monologue about how crane aches for bruce to actually see things his way for once. fear is nessasery for everything. it's not just passion of his. it can be smth so much greater. in other words, i think, that jon might attempt to coax batman into joining his case. bruce would not join, but it's still worth a try.

the second one *lower right* is low-key based on AU idea that i have or that be used for any version scarebat tbh. it's kinda universal an' bendy. the mere chance of ‘what if’, bruce mets jonathan before he becomes scarecrow *he will still become one still later tho*, an’ he pretty much seeks his ‘help’ as batman. i imagine, that this can happen early in bruce’s vigilante career, when he an’ gordon ain’t buddies yet an’ bruce need some assistance from time to time. or maybe, he needed jon’s help for one case an’ then, they kinda got on a friendly terms an’ it progressed from there. in this version, i think, jon would try to ‘hold back’ a bit, when it comes to his fear experiments. mostly bc he knows, that bruce won't like him doing smth like this. or he can think, that it can be a bit too early to try an' ease him up to idea of basically psychologically torturing people to progress the science lol. batman is an imposing, terrefying symbol of justice. but in crane's eyes, he's also a soft-ish kind of boy. cannot do smth nasty, just so that it will serve a greater good. anyhow, smth still goes wrong. crane still gets fired, bc even if the bat was none the wiser to what he was doing, his collegues were. which in the end, lead to bruce an' jon having a fight about it. an’ after that, jon pretty much disappears from the radar *like most of BTAS rogues do, when they're about to rebrand from normal citizen into a masked villain lol* an’ returns 2-3 years later as the scarecrow. with all of that in mind, in this AU, crane will have a clear advantage over batman at first, as he used to known him prior to this. an’ he got to see him work / talk, learned a few things about him, while the bat won’t instantly know that scarecrow is jonathan. but i imagine, he will figure this out fairly quickly. not only bc crane is short an’ thin an' obssessed with fear. but bruce also was around the other man a lot an’ considering how ambiguous their relationships were at one point, he also watched crane back. this art captures more sweet moment between the two, howerer. them having heart to heart or maybe, jon thought that bruce had died or rumors had it that he was serious injured in some fight against a villain an’ he was relieved to learn, that it’s not so. can be anything, honestly. regardless, jonathan hides his expression from batman, an’ bruce have his ‘game face on’, as they both don’t deal with vulnerability very well *also idk how do draw the back of jon’s head yet, but i gave it my best shot lol*

the next one *the lower left* is also a classic set up in my eyes an' also my fav art out of the bunch. this 'scene' can be connected to AU above, as in: batman takes his once-a-friend, who is also his-love-interest an’ his-new-rogue to arkham, after jon lost the fight. or as i drawn it, this is an imaginary of ‘what if BTAS did a justice to dark knight of scarecrow comic’. what if we got batman an’ scarecrow personal fight an’ bruce end up carrying jon all romantically into the sunset at the end, like he did in that issue. bruce face here is all shadowy like in the actual comic scene, an’ while i’m not sure if i managed to capture my intention with this one kinda well or not, the idea behind this exact ‘head portrait’ was to get a bit of a mixture between bruce’s unmasked features, his batman persona an’ also a bat-monster creature *that all versions of jonathan seen him as, at least once* it’s a bit of reflection on all of it. on who bruce is, who criminals see him as, an' what jon sees him at, when he's high on ft. in some capacity bruce is all of those things. or rather, they're all part of the same man. as bruce’s core will always be rooted in empathy. an' BTAS bruce is basically a golden standard of batman writing, when it comes to bruce wayne as character an' that very trait esp. so yeah, this art is nod toward that an' more broad approach to what could have been, if they given jon at least one more ep, where he an' batman would have been in focus. i imagined, that in this art bruce carries jonathan from whatever location they had fight in, an’ it’s like early morning, so there is mist. bruce walks an’ reminicents on fights an’ waste of jon’s brilliant mind, along with other things. expression close to melancholic. meanwhile, crane is out cold. an’ it’s one of those rare lax, relaxed expressions that he has, opposite to his sneers, smirks or frowns. as he's only ever in peace, when his mind isn't active. what a nightmare, indeed *mostly for bruce* so sweet dreams, spooky prince. may the big bad bat guard your slumber.

an' finally, the last art *at the very bottom* which shows jonathan during his staying in arkham. in BTAS he had long sleeved uniform, but i think, in the comics based on the series, he been seen in a gray shirt a few times. so i decided to give him that lol. this can also be connected with AU, i mentioned. like, that bruce will still come back to his old friend, even if those visits are somewhat painful. i guess, it will be even worse than when bruce has to interact with harvey as batman. but this also can be smth unrelated to that. for example, bruce needing crane’s assistance on smth, without them having any history between them, besides the canonical one. or it can be them, being in relationships an’ jon is kinda being difficult. each of his progress is shaky an’ he pretty much slips back into his old ways, as soon as he goes out of arkham. but whatever the set up is, jonathan is more accepting of his situation, or rather about what he is. while bruce is kinda torn about it. can hold him close, but cannot truly mend his mind. i also have a feeling like crane tells him smth fear related. be it his assessment onto bruce’s state or their whole ‘thing’. but whatever it is, this isn't a very pleasant talk for bruce.

an’ oh yeah, instead of using song lyrics like i usually do, i used shakespeare’s sonnet for this. an' it's one of my most favorite ones as well. i had to cut out the middle, bc i disliked how it looked. but you can go an' read the whole thing, if you will ever feel like it. i mean, that's fairly short one. but i honestly think, this fits them *an' generally scarebat as a ship* very well.)

#btas #batman animated series #batman #scarecrow #bruce wayne #jonathan crane #scarebat #batcrow #brew draws

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ladelinee · 15 hours ago

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Author's note: Sorry for the delay or grammar mistake! I had a lot to do. I make up for it, this episode is longer. 🤭

Word count: 5.1K

Warnings: +18!!! Minors dni, masturbation, cussing, innocent, angst.

Dontcha’ think It’s time

Part 3 (Part 2 here)

“Seriously?” You let out a deep sigh.

Jerry had been everywhere since morning.

Right outside your bedroom door. By your side at breakfast. And now, after two whole hours of sitting in the garden, trying to focus on your book…there he was, planted on the bench beside you, baking under the sun but not moving an inch.

You stared at him. He was half-lounging, fanning himself lazily with the day’s newspaper, his shirt slightly unbuttoned from the heat, and his eyes half-closed against the sunlight.

“Sorry, kid” Jerry muttered, shifting slightly but refusing to budge. “Your uncle told me to be your shadow. I’m just doing my job. Personal bodyguard…doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t need a personal bodyguard.”

“Well, tell that to Elvis.”

You groaned, pressing the book against your forehead. “This is ridiculous.”

“Tell that to Elvis, too.”

You exhaled sharply, snapping your book shut before standing up. The sun was starting to sting against your skin. You brushed off your dress, and turned on your heel, heading back toward the house.

As soon as you stepped inside, the cool air wrapped around you like a lifeline.

You hadn’t seen Elvis all morning.Which, honestly, was a relief. Because you’d been avoiding him.

You told yourself it was because he was busy. Because you didn’t want to bother him. But deep down, you knew the truth. You were embarrassed to see him.

A million horrible, humiliating scenarios ran through your head.

What would you even say?

“Hey, Uncle Elvis, last night you touched my cheek, and I totally freaked out. Could you do it again?”

No.Absolutely not.

Again, your mind played it out:

“Hey, Uncle Elvis, I-”

And then you stopped. Because this time, you really freaked out.

The moment you stepped into the living room, you were hit with something massive.The space was completely transformed. What was once a grand, elegant living room was now unrecognizable, it looked less like a living room and more like a high-end boutique.

At the far end, in the music room, at least twenty jumpsuits hung neatly on racks. Around them, the guys stood, surrounded by rolls of fabric in every color, intricate design sketches, and samples of rhinestones.

Tailors and assistants buzzed around, adjusting hems, pinning designs, discussing crystals and stitching techniques like surgeons in an operating room.

And right in the middle of it all, standing on a platform, arms stretched out while the tailor measured him, was Elvis.

His shirt was undone, exposing his chest, and he was barefoot. He stood tall, relaxed, completely in his element.

His presence was massive, filling every inch of the space. You didn’t even realize you had stopped breathing. It was impossible to take your eyes off him.

And everyone around him felt it too.

They hung on his every word, laughing at his jokes, nodding along as he gestured toward the sketches, the fabrics, making quick decisions with the kind of confidence that only he could pull off.

And God, was he good at it.

And yet, the moment his eyes landed on you, his face lit up as if you had just stepped into the world he ruled.

“Hey, darlin’! There you are!”

Your body went rigid. He was acting normal, as if last night had never happened. You forced a smile, stepping into the room, pretending it didn’t matter.

Elvis didn’t even blink, his expression warm, welcoming, easy. As if you were just a kid wandering into the room, as if he hadn’t caught the way you had looked at him the night before, as if he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes.

You hated how much it bothered you.

Before you could even think of something to say, Sonny suddenly grabbed two big cristals, pressed them over his eyes like shimmering goggles, and turned toward Elvis with dead seriousness.

“E, I can see your bright future,” he declared in a mystical voice, waving his hands as if channeling some otherworldly force. “It’s blinding, man.”

Elvis grinned, enjoying this way too much. “Well, damn, we don’t need another Larry, man.”

While Sonny laughed at Elvis’s comeback, Red smacked him upside the head so hard that the rhinestones popped out of his grip and rolled under the couch.

“See that in your future, dumbass?” Red muttered.

The guys burst into laughter.

Meanwhile, the tailor, who already looked like he had aged ten years in one night from putting up with their nonsense, sighed heavily. His hands re-adjusted the measuring tape around Elvis’s waist like he was handling a wild animal.

Elvis, suddenly serious, looked down at him.

“Hey, tell me the truth. Do I look ridiculous in jumpsuit?”

Charlie was already shaking his head, muttering, “Oh boy, here we go.”

The tailor closed his eyes for a long moment, inhaling deeply through his nose, holding it, and then exhaling it.

“Mr. Presley” he said, his voice carrying the heavy weight of suffering, “I have spent my entire career…”

Elvis grinned like he had just won an award.

“Aw c’mon, don’t be dramatic now! I’m easy, man.”

The guys laughed even harder this time.

The tailor, looking like he was one bad joke away from throwing himself out the nearest window, adjusted his glasses and tried again.

“Mr. Presley, please stop moving. I am trying to measure your waist.”

Elvis nodded seriously, held his arms out, and attempted to stand still.

For exactly five seconds. And then…

Elvis interrupted himself by moving again, spinning his hips slightly just to make a point.

“Alright, but f’real, how tight can we make a jumpsuit without me losin’ circulation? ‘Cause I gotta be able to shake, y’know.”

The tailor sighed heavily and stepped away, desperately in need of a moment to collect himself.

You found the moment extremely funny, you adored Elvis in this mood, and for a brief instant, you forgot everything.

Elvis voice cut through the noise, directed at you.“Darlin’, do me a favor, will ya? Pass me one of those cigars over there.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple request. The weight of the moment hit you all at once. He was including you in his world, in the moment. Like you weren’t just standing on the sidelines, watching from afar. It sent a rush of excitement through you.

“Sure!” you replied, eager to help.

You turned toward the small wooden box sitting on the lower shelf of a nearby table and reached for it.

And then It happened. Without thinking, you bent at the waist. Elvis saw it before it even happened.

His entire body tensed and with a gulp, his jaw locked. Your dress lifted just enough. A sliver of white lace, a brief glimpse, barely anything, but enough for him to see. His throat went dry.

Elvis turned just in time to find Jerry’s eyes flicker downward. It wasn’t intentional, it was just a glance, a moment of instinct. But it didn’t matter. Before Jerry’s brain could even process what his eyes had landed on, Elvis moved fast.

His hand shot out, grabbing Jerry’s jaw with an iron grip, turning his face so sharply it was almost comical.

Elvis gave him A big, bright, charmingly terrifying smile. The kind that should’ve been friendly but somehow made every hair on Jerry’s body stand up.

“Look at me, son of a bitch” Elvis murmured smoothly, his voice low and calm.

Jerry, frozen, tried to lean back, but Elvis’s grip tightened.

“Oh no, don’t you even think about lookin’ anywhere else.”

The room hadn’t even noticed. Elvis knew exactly how to play the game. He didn’t need to raise his voice and make a scene. If he did, everyone would turn around and see you at your most vulnerable.

Charlie was still cracking jokes, Sonny and Red completely oblivious to the hostage situation happening in the middle of the room were still laughing about something unrelated.

But Jerry was in hell.

“E…” he choked, his voice strangled.

Elvis tilted his head slightly, his expression still sickeningly pleasant.

“You see somethin’, Jer? Hm? Somethin’ interestin’ down there?”

Then, you turned around. And what you saw made no sense: Elvis, gripping Jerry’s face, staring him down. Jerry, half-strangled and wide-eyed, trying to yank himself free.

You frowned, holding the cigar in your hand. “What’s going on?”

Elvis let go immediately, stepping back like nothing had happened, clearing his throat “Nothin’, sugar. Just teachin’ Jerry some damn manners.”

Jerry scoffed, rubbing his jaw, looking completely betrayed. Elvis ignored him, turning his attention back to you.

You hesitated before stepping closer, handing him the cigar. Elvis took it from you smoothly, his fingers grazing yours, lingering just a second too long. Then, he leaned in so close that you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Lesson number two, honey.” He said smirking,

“If you’re gonna bend over in a dress… bend your knees”

Your face burned as the realization slammed into you like a freight train.Elvis just watched you while litting the cigar, waiting for you to say something.

Finally, you managed to find your voice. “I…I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know, darlin’.” His voice was smooth. “That’s why I’m here. Gotta teach you these things, don’t I?”

Your stomach flipped violently. You knew he was just messing with you. That this was probably all a joke to him. But God, why did it feel like something else?

Elvis knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn’t have said it like that. The words had slipped out too smooth, carrying a weight he hadn’t intended and that’s what unsettled him the most.

Not wanting to show any regret, he adjusted himself effortlessly, his expression smoothing over as if it were just another casual conversation.

With a slow exhale, he flicked the ash from his cigar into the ashtray and turned lazily toward the tailor.

“Hey” he drawled, his voice light and unconcerned. “Go on ‘n measure her next.”

The tailor looked at him, surprised.

“Mr. Presley, I have a full schedule…” he said, rubbing his temples.

“Ain’t no problem, sir. I’ll pay ya” Elvis interrupted smoothly and calm.

You blinked, completely caught off guard.

“Wait, what?”

Elvis curved his lips into a small smile, finally looking at you.

“Time to get ya something nice, sugar.”

Still confused, you hesitated before stepping onto the platform. The tailor muttered a few curses under his breath but pulled out the measuring tape anyway.

Elvis leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, his gaze scanning you from head to toe in quiet thought.

“Let’s keep goin’ with the lesson” he started, taking a drag of his cigar. “No more little girl dresses. You’re a woman now.”

You hesitated, embarrassed to admit it, but you said it anyway.

“I don’t pick my own clothes…”

Elvis had suspected as much. His smirk faded just a touch.

“Well, there’s your first mistake” He exhaled through his nose, tapping his cigar against the ashtray. “A woman’s gotta take initiative. If you want somethin’, you ask for it. You go get it”

You hesitated. “Like what?”

Elvis smirked again, tilting his head.

“You tell me, honey.”

You bit your lip, thinking. Then, suddenly, an idea sparked in your mind.

“Can I throw a party?”

Elvis’s eyebrows lifted, impressed. Then, a slow, approving smile spread across his face.

“Now we’re talking,” he nodded, his gaze warming. “Hell yeah, sugar. Throw a party. Invite your friends. I’ll help you, but you’re the one who decidin’ how you want it.”

Your smile widened, excitement bubbling inside you.“Really?”

“As long as nobody gets hurt…” he joked.

You barely heard him, your mind already racing with plans. You had never been allowed to throw a party before. But then, another thought formed in your mind. A test.

“Can I invite my ex?”

Elvis’s expression didn’t change immediately. His smirk was still there, but the lines around his mouth tensed ever so slightly.

Jerry, who had been lounging lazily, suddenly straightened up. He slowly turned his head toward Elvis, raising his eyebrows in a silent You’re gonna let that bastard in here?

“Well, boss,” Jerry muttered, tilting his head and crossing his arms, “Finally, we’ll give our guns a good use.”

Elvis let out a laugh. The tension in the air instantly dissipated as he grinned. “Damn, Jerry,” he muttered, still chuckling. Then, his gaze slid back to you, lazy and unreadable.

“Well” he said, his smirk deepening, “why not? Let’s show him what he’s missin’.”

Your insides twisted with nerves.

Elvis leaned back again, watching your reaction closely. You stared at him, searching his face for a sign to tell you that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want you to invite your ex.

But he didn’t hesitate, didn’t waver. That was all you needed. The excitement in your chest cooled, settling into something steadier, more logical. There’s nothing going on here, you thought. If there was, he would’ve said no. But he didn’t. Because it didn’t matter to him. You realized he was just helping you. Teaching you. Nothing more.

“Tell ya what, sugar,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. “Tonight, some friends of mine are comin’ around.” He took another slow drag of his cigar, then exhaled lazily. “Couple of girls too. If you wanna see what I’m talkin’ about, how they take initiative, you stick around. Observe.”

You blinked, thrown off for a second, but then nodded. You were willing to change.

“Good” he murmured. “Consider it part of your lesson, honey.”

—————————-

The Den had a magic of its own, wild and untamed, like stepping into a private little jungle where anything could happen. Smoke curled lazily through the air, drifting from the cigarettes in the guys’ hands, mingling with the heavy scent of bourbon. Elvis’s music hummed through the speakers, low and smooth, filling the room.

The guys sprawled across the furry couches and chairs, drinks in hand, laughing as they dissected harmonies, debating arrangements like it was life or death. If someone caught a note they didn’t like, Elvis would stop the song, rewind it, and listen again, his brow furrowed as he focused intently.

You sat on the edge of one of the couches, your heart racing with excitement.

This was it.Your first adult gathering.

No kiddie stuff, no games, no one telling you to run along. You were here, right in the heart of it all. Confidence buzzed through you, and it wasn’t just that.

Elvis had smiled at you a few times, catching your eye from across the room, giving you that familiar, soft grin. Like he saw you, but as someone who belonged here, with them. It made your chest flutter.

But then…

The drinks started to get refilled. Again. And again. And slowly, the room shifted.

The guys leaned back deeper into the couches, their voices dropping lower, their laughter rougher. Jokes became quieter, the kind that made them smirk and glance around before saying them out loud. The women giggled, hiding their laughter behind delicate hands, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

You smiled along, pretending to understand, but the edges of the conversation were starting to slip away from you.

You hadn’t noticed it at first, but your fingers had been nervously twisting the hem of your skirt, folding and unfolding it, a subtle sign of how out of place you were starting to feel.

The confidence that had buzzed in your chest earlier now felt thinner, stretched.

That’s when it hit you. You were caught somewhere in between. Too old to be off playing with Lisa, but too young for this.

Your heart started to race, a tightness curling in your chest.

You needed to do something.

Okay… initiative. Women should have initiative.

Elvis’s words echoed in your mind.

You took a breath, your hands still shaking slightly, and crossed the room with as much confidence as you could fake.

Your eyes landed on Jerry.

He was sitting a bit away from the others on the farthest sofa, half-listening to the conversation but clearly lost in his own thoughts, swirling a glass lazily in his hand.

Perfect.

You walked right up to him and sat down at his side, close enough for it to feel intentional.

Jerry blinked, his brow lifting slightly in surprise. But then, a small, approving smile spread across his face.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the hum of music.

You smiled back, though your heart was still racing. “Hey.”

Jerry took a sip of his drink, studying you for a moment. “You doin’ alright?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was true. Your eyes flicked to the glass in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

He smirked. “Trouble.”

You hesitated, feeling the knot of nerves in your stomach, but then the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“I wanna try.”

Jerry chuckled. “I don’t know about that. E’s got eyes everywhere.”

You glanced back at Elvis.

He was laughing at something one of the women had whispered in his ear, his arm stretched lazily across the back of the couch, completely relaxed, completely oblivious to you.

“He’s busy” you muttered under your breath.

Jerry followed your gaze, his expression softening just slightly before he sighed and handed you the glass.

“Alright. One sip.”

You took it, feeling the cool weight of it in your hands.

It smelled sharp, smoky, and sweet all at once. You took a cautious sip.

The burn hit instantly. It was sharp and bitter, searing down your throat as you coughed, your eyes watering.

You shoved the glass back at Jerry, your voice hoarse.

“That’s disgusting.” You said wiping your mouth with your hand.

Jerry laughed, shaking his head. “Welcome to adulthood.”

You laughed weakly and as you handed Jerry’s glass back, still coughing from the sharp burn of the whiskey, a soft, sultry voice slipped into the space between you.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

You turned to see a brunette woman in a sleek black dress approaching. Without hesitation, she slid onto the couch between you and Jerry, the slit in her dress parting to reveal a smooth stretch of thigh. Her sweet perfume wrapped around you instantly.

She leaned back, resting one arm behind Jerry, her dark eyes flickering between the two of you with a slow, teasing smirk.

“I heard from your uncle,” she began, her voice thick with honeyed amusement, “that you wanna grow up.”

Your breath caught in your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks.

She chuckled, watching the way you fidgeted, then slid her fingers up Jerry’s arm, her nails grazing his sleeve as if you weren’t even there.

“And you… you’re sitting here acting all protective” she purred to Jerry, her voice low and sultry, “but I bet you’re dying to know what she tastes like… aren’t you?”

Jerry stiffened, acting like he didn’t care, but still didn’t speak.

But before you could process her words, the brunette turned her gaze back to you, her voice softening into a silky whisper.

“Let me give you a little tip, honey” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Make sure you’re wearing nice lingerie… because once your panties are removed, you’ll want him to remember every inch.”

As the words left her lips, your heart pounded wildly in your chest, but your mind drifted straight to Elvis.You couldn’t help it.

Your eyes found him across the room, surrounded by women, his laughter spilling out easily, that effortless charm radiating from him. One of the blondes leaned into him, her fingers grazing his chest, and he smirked completely relaxed, completely at ease.

Your breath hitched, your cheeks burning as you imagined him hearing the brunette’s words. Imagined him looking at you like that, seeing you that way.

The thought was dizzying and entirely too much.

You didn’t even notice Jerry’s fist tightening beside you.

“That’s enough,” Jerry muttered, his voice rough and strained.

But the brunette only laughed softly, brushing her fingers one last time along Jerry’s shoulder before standing. She smirked at you, her eyes filled with something wicked.

“Good luck, sweetheart” she purred, before sauntering away, her hips swaying as she headed back toward Elvis.

You sat there, your mind spinning, heart racing, the brunette’s words echoing over and over.

Jerry cleared his throat beside you. “Don’t… don’t listen to her” he mumbled, but his voice was tight, uneasy.

But you weren’t listening to him. His words faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding in your chest and the thoughts swirling in your mind.

What if you stayed until the end of the night?

What if you waited until everyone left? Until the women were gone, the drinks dried up, and it was just the two of you alone, like last night in the kitchen. That moment had been quiet and intimate, like you had gotten to see a side of him no one else did. You wanted that again. Needed it.

You shifted on the couch, forcing yourself to sound casual.

“Shall we play chess?” you asked Jerry, glancing at the small table in the corner.

Jerry blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but then sighed, giving you a half-smile. “Sure, kid.”

You moved to the chess table, settling into the seat opposite him. The pieces were already set up, and Jerry lazily began sliding a pawn forward, not fully paying attention. His eyes drifted between the board and the conversations happening behind you.

Time passed, the murmur of voices blending with music still humming through the speakers. Jerry moved his pieces slowly, half-heartedly, while you tried to focus on the game.

You could hear the soft giggles, the sweet murmurs from the other side of the room. You tried not to look, but you couldn’t help it.

There he was.

Elvis, surrounded by the women. One of the blondes leaned in, peppering soft kisses along his jawline, while another whispered in his ear. He smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded, soaking in the attention.

A sharp pang of something hot and heavy twisted in your chest.

You hated that they were touching him so easily, kissing him so freely, like it was nothing.

For once, you wanted to be one of the women who could sit so close, touch him, make him laugh.

You moved a pawn forward, hands trembling slightly. Jerry noticed but didn’t say anything.

Minutes ticked by, the laughter behind you louder now, the room warmer, the air thicker.

Your eyelids grew heavy.

You tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, stay there, wait until the moment was right, but your body was betraying you.

Your chin dipped, and your eyes fluttered shut for a second too long.

Then a hand landed gently on your shoulder, startling you awake. You blinked, looking up.

It was him.

Elvis stood over you, his brow raised, but there was a softness in his expression though it didn’t hide the authority in his voice.

“Sugar, it’s late. Time for bed.”

Your heart raced.He wanted you gone. but you frowned, not wanting to lose your chance.

“I’m not tired” you lied, sitting up straighter.

Elvis chuckled under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Honey, you’re fallin’ asleep at the table.”

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening. “I wanna stay… with Jerry.” You lied again.

Jerry expression went blank. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, uncomfortable with the growing tension.

Elvis’s easy smile faltered for a moment. He exchanged a glance with Jerry. A silent conversation passing between them.

But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Suit yourself, darlin’…”

And just like that, he walked away, back to his spot on the couch, where the women were still waiting for him, their hands reaching out the moment he sat down.

You watched him for a beat longer, your chest aching, before your eyelids grew too heavy again.

Minutes passed. Your limbs grew heavier, exhaustion creeping in. You stopped playing chess, and sit next to Jerry. Then, exhaustion won. Your body went heavy, your head tilting against Jerry’s arm.

Jerry tensed slightly, glancing down at you. Your breathing was slow, steady, your lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. He exhaled through his nose, shifting just enough to let you rest more comfortably against him.

Jerry felt Elvis approach before he even heard him. He didn’t bother looking up, already knowing what was coming.

“I’ll take her” Elvis said flatly, his voice low but tight.

Jerry’s jaw clenched, his gaze still fixed on the chessboard. “It’s okay. I’ll take her,” he replied, his tone calm but firm.

But Elvis didn’t back down. “I said I’ll take her.”

Now Jerry finally looked up, meeting Elvis’s hard stare. “What the hell’s goin’ on, E? Why’re you so pissed?”

Elvis’s jaw flexed, his blue eyes sharp. “She’s my niece.”

Jerry scoffed, the bitterness in his voice clear. “Yeah? Now she is?”

Elvis’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond. His eyes flicked down to you, still asleep on Jerry’s shoulder.

Jerry hesitated, glancing down at you as well, peaceful, unaware of the storm above. He sighed deeply, realizing this wasn’t a fight worth dragging on.

“Fine” he muttered under his breath, but his glare didn’t soften. Gently, he lifted you from his shoulder and passed you into Elvis’s arms.

Before letting go, Jerry spoke quietly, his words like a punch to the gut.

“She didn’t wanna leave because she thought maybe you’d give a damn.”

Elvis didn’t respond, but the weight of Jerry’s words landed hard. He cradled you gently against his chest, his grip tighter than before, and turned toward the stairs.

——————

It was 5 a.m. The only sound in Elvis’s room was his labored breathing. He was kneeling on the mattress, his soft length in hand, stroking it furiously as his balls bounced in a desperate rhythm. Sweat dripped down his temples, his chest rising and falling with shaky, heavy breaths. His jaw was clenched tight, face fixed on the ceiling, brow furrowed with closed eyes, forcing himself to focus, to stay present.

Come on. Goddammit.

But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept slipping away… to the other room, to you.

He had left you in your room not long ago, and finally, for a moment, he had been able to look at your face, sleeping peacefully after the long, strange night. Your lips slightly parted, your chest rising and falling with each soft breath. You looked so innocent… so safe.

He had wanted to stay there longer, just watching you sleep, but he couldn’t. It would’ve been suspicious, especially if they were waiting for him in the Den. Someone was always waiting. So, he forced himself to walk away.

But what really haunted him, what twisted deep inside, was what had happened before.

Seeing you curled up asleep in Jerry’s arms, your head resting on his shoulder, like he was the one you trusted the most… that stirred something dark within him.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked himself, his throat tightening.

Then Jerry’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and cruel:

“She didn’t wanna leave because she thought maybe you’d give a damn.”

The guilt gnawed at him. He had been avoiding you on purpose. Convincing himself it was for the best. That putting distance between you was what you needed.

He wasn’t a good influence. And deep down, he knew none of this was right.

In front of him, two naked women lay on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes. One of them, the blonde one giggled, cutting through the suffocating silence.

“You’ve been at that forever, baby,” she murmured as she slid closer, her nails dragging down his sweaty back.“I can help you.”

The brunette stretched lazily over the pillows, a mocking smile on her face as she watched him.

“I think someone’s distracted,” she teased.“Thinking about something… or someone.”

Elvis’s shoulders tensed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The brunette’s grin widened, sensing his discomfort.

“I talked to your niece earlier. She’s so sweet. All shy, all innocent, but you could tell… she was dying for a little attention.”

Elvis opened his eyes and glanced at them, letting the blonde continue running her hands over his body, her lips brushing his neck.

The brunette’s grin widened, sensing the tension. “I thought she was drooling over you at first, but then I saw her with Jerry. The way she was leaning into him? Practically in his lap. Bet she was wondering what it would feel like to have him touch her. Maybe hoping he’d slide his hands up that little dress.”

Elvis’s breath hitched, guilt flaring into something hotter, rage.

But the brunette leaned forward, her smirk sharp as a knife. “I bet she was wet for him. Sitting there, pretending to play innocent, but hoping Jerry would just lose control. You think he thought about it? What it would be like to spread her open, right there on the couch? I bet he did.”

That was it.

Elvis’s body tensed like a spring ready to snap. But instead of shouting, he took a sharp breath, forcing his voice to stay even, but cold.

“Alright now, ladies,” he drawled, his voice low but firm. “I think it’s time y’all got goin’”

The two women blinked, clearly not expecting that. The brunette, however, chuckled, pushing further. “Oh, come on, Elvis. Don’t tell me you’re upset. I’m just having some fun.”

He turned then, his blue eyes sharp but calm, though the rage was bubbling beneath the surface. “Ain’t nothin’ funny ‘bout that. Not one bit.”

The room grew tense, but he held his composure.

“Get dressed” he added, his voice still soft, but his jaw clenched so tightly it was a miracle the words came out at all.

The brunette narrowed her eyes but stood, grabbing her clothes, her movements sharp. “Guess we hit a nerve,” she muttered under her breath.

Elvis didn’t respond, didn’t even look at them as they gathered their things. But when they reached the door, the brunette hesitated, throwing him one last glance.

“You’ll break, Elvis,” she taunted. “You will.”

The door slammed behind them, the sound echoing through the now suffocatingly empty room.

Elvis stood there, breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face, his hands shaking uncontrollably. The silence pressed in on him, heavier than ever.

He staggered back and collapsed onto the bed, naked and raw, sweat slicking his skin as he lay there, fists clenched in his damp black hair. His heart was pounding out of control.

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his throat before he muttered, voice rough and low,

“‘Course I fuckin’ gave a damn.”

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @iloveelvisss ❤️

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis and me #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #austin elvis imagine #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #elvis fluff #elvis smut #elvis angst

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rarepairdumpster · 2 days ago

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Teacher Viktor AU Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: T C/W: Child Jinx, Mob Boss Silco, Jinx is also a Vilco shipper

A few days later, Jinx comes in to class early, and leaves a glittery makeup palette and note that says "So You Can Be Pretty For My Dad"

And Viktor goes tomato red when he gets to the (now full) classroom and reads the note.

Jinx just grins at him from her seat and gives him two thumbs up.

Viktor calls her to remain behind at the end of the day, and he sits her down to explain that leaving gifts and notes like that isn't appropriate.

"But daddy likes you."

"Well, yes, but I'm sure he means as your--"

"And you like daddy, right?"

Viktor can't help a little flush. "I enjoyed meeting him, yes."

Viktor has to take a measured breath when Jinx just looks triumphant.

"Jinx, do you know what would happen if someone else found the note you left? They might think I was playing favourites."

"But I am your favourite."

"That isn't --" Viktor sighs. "I care about all my students, Jinx, but if someone starts to think I'm playing favourites, they might start looking at what I'm doing more. It might mean I'd get to teach you less. Or not at all."

Jinx smirks. "Daddy said if they ever get rid of you, he'll hire you as my personal tutor."

Viktor can't stop the incredulous laugh that escapes before he falters, face warming.

Before he can stop himself, he asks, "Does your father know about the gift you left for me?"

Jinx's eyes go wide.

"It was supposed to be a surprise cuz cuz when daddy sees you all pretty he won't think about the things that make him grumpy and he'll be all smiley like last time"

Viktor mulls over the words, over the quiet care hidden behind exuberant action.

She loves her dad a lot. And she worries about him.

Viktor can see that.

"Well, what about when he sees you all pretty?" Viktor smiles and opens the pallete between them. "These are definitely your colors. I don't think I could pull them off."

Viktor teaches her how to do smokey eyes, but with purple, and makes sure to show her in the mirror that came with the palette.

And he explains to her that she can do the same with pretty much any colour scheme.

And Jinx gasps like Viktor unlocked the universe.

Jinx asks how Viktor knows about all this and he just smiles and says "teacher school, of course"

Of course, because he isn't going to tell a child that he spent his teen years learning how to use make up to hide how sick and tired he was, or that he spent his college years sitting on pretty, but beefier boys and painting their faces with makeup.

Jinx only gathers her things to leave when Silco's annoyed voice floats up the corridor.

But she doesn't go without giving Viktor a squishy hug first.

Viktor moves to the doorway to watch Jinx bound down the hallway to Silco, yelling at him to see how pretty she is.

"Mr Viktor helped me!!!"

Silco looks up and smiles at Viktor from down the hall. "Well then, I must insist we go for ice cream before home. I can't have you all made up with nowhere to go."

Viktor disappears back into the classroom quickly; his heart is beating maybe a little too hard. He curls his cool hand around the back of his neck. He hasn't felt this silly and discombobulated in a while.

The next time Viktor sees Silco, it's when he has pickup area duty a few weeks later. Jinx still hangs near him while waiting so, he's not exactly surprised when a pristine Rolls Royce pulls up and the back window rolls down to reveal Silco.

"Get in around the other side, Jinx," Silco instructs before turning his attention to Viktor.

"This is the longest she's stayed in one school. We might even make it the year. I believe I have you to thank for that."

"If she does, I think she deserves a party," Viktor says, maybe a little boldly; the kind words Silco has been giving him might be going to his head.

"And would you be willing to attend such a party?" Silco raises an eyebrow.

"Depends," Viktor muses. "I think it would be a little unusual if I was invited to a party full of kids."

"I think the excuse of being her teacher is enough to attend a party honoring her academic achievements"

Viktor can't help the amused smile that warms his face.

Silco seems determined.

"I suppose I'll wait for the invitation then," Viktor replies, waving at Jinx when she's settled in next to Silco. "Have a good rest of your day, Mr Silco"

"And you, Viktor."

Viktor turns away, but he can feel the way Silco's gaze drops, even if only briefly, to look at his ass. He hears a satisfied little hum behind him and the car starts moving.

Arch + Woods

#vilco #viktor arcane #silco arcane #viktor #silco #fanfic #rarepairdumpster #teacher viktor AU

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icewindandboringhorror · 21 days ago

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Would most people realistically use 'carry' and 'convey' as synonyms in typical speech?? Seems a slightly reaching comparison to me lol

#Usually thesaurus.com's Synonym Of The Day is fine but every once in a while there areones like this #where looking at the initial email I'm like...?? i don't know?? none of them really????#Like out of the three options given without any additional context #I guess reading further I can kind of see where it comes from if you're using it in a less literal sense #like ''the poem carries sad tones through it's words'' > ''the poem conveys tones of sadness through its wording''#but thinking of the more everyday usage of the word carry and how most often you hear it. it seems initially like an odd comparison #to say Convey would be an actual known/commonly used synonym of it.#Which I do get it. theyve probably had to come up with thousands of these now. so sometimes you're probably stretching things a little #to make more absract connections lol. But it's just kind of funny sometimes when you open the #email and its like "which of these are a synonym of the word Dog? -- Mug. Amulet. or Orange Peel.'' and you're like ?????? none???#and then you click on it and it's like ''the third useage of the word 'dog' means to drink from a fountain. which is kind of like drinking #from a mug. um.. so yeah. :)'' and then I go okay :3 thesaurus dot com you could never make me hate you. sure. a dog is a mug. :3 #Anyway... coming out of a full week of no posting on the internet just to reflect on an odd synonym of the day email lol.. I am like an #80 year old man who sits in his study all day ignoring everyone then will randomly come out sometimes to go 'ahhrmm.. take #a gander at this interesting crossword I've just found in the paper. strange right? .... ok. hmhpph. back to my library..'

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spadefish · 18 days ago

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#negative #sitting here trying to do the mental math of why i'm TURBO depressed right now #like am genuinely struggling not to Do Something Stupid for the first time in a HOT minute #like 'oh yeah 1. we have a chemical imbalance #2. we've made less money this month than last month so will have to hustle to pay the basic bills #let alone get non-food necessities + make any sort of headway into the debt we're in right now #and 3. The State Of The Fucking Country Right Now #like hmmm no fucking wonder #it has been BAD though today like notably so #i know it's been kind of worse than usual for a hot minute or so but today has been notably difficult #i think last week or the week before we had a couple of 'barely able to get out of bed' days #and honestly the physical pain has been worse than usual recently too so that's probably contributing #also praying to any god who'll listen that i won't owe a massive amount in back taxes this year #aauuggghhhhhhhhhhhghghhhh #i'm trying SO so fucking hard to stay positive but oh my god it is getting more and more difficult #idk how much longer i can keep it up #anyway sorry to complain on the dash again #i guess part of me hopes that the people in my life who may have noticed my decline in 'reaching out to help people'#(in general but especially recently)#will maybe see it and know that it is because I Am Drowning and it's NOT because i secretly hate them or something #there's no graceful way to tell someone 'hey i have to ignore you for my mental health' unfortunately

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skrunksthatwunk · 18 days ago

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just finished s2 of kaiji and it was good i really liked it but i hope i never see that fuckass pachinko machine again!!!

#i started ep 15 assuming hey the climactic battle against the swamp of despair is probably gonna be like 6 episodes max right #bc the op has hyoudou and roulette so there's a third game on the way #and from about the fourth episode on i kept going man it's gotta end next episode right they can't have That much more they can do with it #TWELVE EPISODES OF ONE GAME OF PACHINKO. YOU'RE JOKING #and watching it animated is one thing but im surprised fans of the manga didnt string him up in the street for this #im not joking i sunk cost fallacied my way through the entire thing in one sitting it was so much fucking pachinko #and spoilers spoilers spoilers but the BUILDING??? the BUILDING. jumping the shark a Little there to be so fr with you all #head in my hands kaiji i love you your life is ridiculous. the last episode having him blow his meager winnings on pachinko like the day #after was insane to me HAVENT YOU HAD ENOUGH???? I CERTAINLY HAVE #augh and like. guhh hes so nice hes such a nice protagonist im. in love with him a little bit #i do wish he was a Little more tempted by the money bc i liked that component earlier on #ah actually i think the main object of the fights becoming Figuring Out How To Out-Cheat The Enemy was less cool #don't get me wrong it was fun but i Really liked the more raw nobody knows whats going on vibes of the first two #and the group dynamics of rrps and the human derby were so delicious to me. also i wish s2 had more torture implements #the cheating thing makes sense progression-wise it's just a preference thing. the human derby hit me insanely hard #so it's kind of hard for anything to compete after that y'know?#actually very happy kaiji is still addicted to gambling at the end. like it's a happy ending bc he's debt free but like. he's not gonna #stay that way. and maybe thats a weird thing to be happy about but i think it's a choice that makes sense #he's got no reason to give it up and has become emotionally dependent on it. the series' concern w gambling as inherently self-destructive #and its sympathy towards ppl who see it as their last hope is like. really cool and idk i think it keeps kaiji real to never let that go #ok i just looked it up and the manga does continue. my ass will be reading it for sure #so idk how faithful the anime ending is but yeah. anyway i really really liked it this was good for me like emotionally #fkmt #ive heard the next arc is mahjong which is sick bc i like 80% know how mahjong works from yakuza #maybe this will help me grasp the final 20% (<- should just look up the rules or something)#what else. right i think it's funny that there's like 2 women total. The most allergic to women series ive ever seen and thats Impressive #the 2nd op is comedically cheeks like just Bad. very fun recognizing the band from the shitass 1st h.xh ed #im like 95% sure hidenari ugaki plays a side character in an episode but it's not listed on his behind the VAs so. alas.#2nd ed is fun bc while i Hate the trope it's doing i love seeing kaiji being put in Situations (clearly)#anyway. it's really good you guys should watch kaiji

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 1 year ago

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one thing i was not prepared for when i started this rewatch of sdmi has been for it to finally sink in how absolutely heartbreaking daphne's whole deal is. this poor kid, man

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #daphne blake #abused kid with zero self-worth: casually; gruesomely self-harms in the *second episode* unprompted to get an extra clue #me: 😰😰😰😰#someone help her please actually god #i know it tends to get overshadowed by people being annoyed by the Obnoxious Het Teen Drama and all; and i get it #but like. that's a major manifestation of her *larger* deep-running issues; sexism and misogyny have shaped how she tries to deal with them #and it kind of sits less and less right with me these days that of her and fred #she's the one whose issues get dismissed and ignored with 'i don't care about boring hets so i'm not gonna bother 🙄'#whereas fred's issues which his involvement in that subplot are an expression of get explored and taken seriously #and treated as Tragic Best Boy Protect Him #(which by itself i don't have a problem with! he is very dubious and fucked up but he's also really tragic and likable)#especially since he's a *catalyst for or outright cause of* a lot of the heartbreaking stuff that happens with her in the series #i understand he has issues of his own and the misogyny is a manifestation of his own abuse history; that toxic masculinity has harmed him #but it is a plain and simple fact that he is a misogynistic abuser toward daphne in sdmi. like. he just is. that's a thing #and i think it is. revealing. that of the characters involved in the Annoying Het Subplot(tm)#it's the man who is a perpetrator of misogyny who's considered Worth Exploring the Tragedy of Despite the Annoying Het Subplot #and the girl who is a victim of misogyny; in ways her entire life is shaped by and suffocated in; is fair game to ignore the tragedy of #and the way the most i have ever seen her get in the show or otherwise on that front is #She Deserves a Better Boyfriend and to Be Confident in Herself Hell Yeah Girl Power #and not 'the way this kid's parents talk to her in the car outside the college is a punch in the gut to watch'#........bothers me. it bothers me.#anyway #misogyny cw #abuse mention cw #abuse apologism cw #self-harm cw #SDMItag

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niteshade925 · 2 years ago

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I can see how the regional phenomena in totk is basically totk's version of a modern 4 horsemen of the apocalypse: pollution (the sludge), addiction (marbled rock roast), climate change (the extreme blizzard; admittedly this one is a bit of a stretch), and pestilence/infectious disease (the giant mosquito boss and the undead gibdo). Which, hey, references to real life issues, great, but what I didn't like so much was how you can just solve puzzles and fight bosses--basically have a handful of big name heroes running around doing tasks--and the water will magically clear up, the addicts will magically become normal people again, the extreme storms will magically dissipate, and the pestilence will magically disappear. Real life does not work that way. I know, I know, it's a game why you taking it so seriously blah blah, but I'm just saying, we have to remember that for any of these problems to be solved, it takes a lot of effort and cooperation from a lot of people to accomplish, and that's definitely an understatement.

#totk spoilers #:P #i haven't played many other zelda games so i can't say #but botw and totk are basically the Great Man Theory #aka 'we only need a few big heroes to save the day and nobody else's input is worth much'#maybe I'm too nitpicky or maybe I'm too old to suspend my disbelief entirely #something about that just doesn't quite sit right with me :P #doesn't mean the game is bad but just my thoughts #and let me add that genshin is also kind of a Great Man Theory sort of game on the surface #but in genshin the story itself actually does challenge that idea in many different places #whereas in botw and totk nothing about that logic is even questioned #you are expected to just accept that 'oh the hero defeated the bad guys and now the problems magically went away'#and since we are talking about real life issues this approach is honestly incredibly lazy #basically the same as 'if everyone can drive less (aka be a hero!) then we can reduce emissions and save the environment!'#while completely ignoring how driving is basically essential to life in the greatest country on earth (tm)#bc of urban planning lack of effective public transportation systems and lobbyists #it's a systemic problem and it's not going to be solved by being heroes or eating the rich #in conclusion: if you want to put real life issues in your game please don't be lazy with it #and if you want the traditional hero vs big bad thing then please stay away from real life issues #this is part of the reason why botw is better than totk

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purple-beans · 8 months ago

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I can't sleep again

#it's all just too much #i need to be sending out emails and arranging stuff for a whole load of different things #but doing that fills me with such anxiety because i dont know how the fuck it works #but every moment I'm not doing those things it fills me with anxiety because i realise I'm standing still #and the only way forward it seems is through this #only it's not because the previous thing i was going was actually working and helping me forward but then my local gov said no actually #you're not allowed to do the thing anymore because we think so even tho we dont know what were talking about #so now you got the offer to look into this other thing that really just feels like the thing you already had but worse #so you have to contact the new thing and see what exactly they're about but already deep inside you know it probably wont work out #so it feels like you'll be doing that only so you can see it doesnt work in the hope that maybe if it doesnt work you can go back #to the gov people and show them the old thing was actually right. but that might not work and then you'll have to sue them #and all the while you spend your days just sitting at home doing nothing and slowly wasting away #getting a little bit worse every day. as you feel all the progress you made in the last year slowly slip through your fingers #and you start to think that maybe this is it. maybe it just doesn't get better. maybe this really is the best you can do and any more just #isn't in the cards for you. maybe you're just not cut out for this whole adult life business. you'll forever be...a failure #and that's just one thing. one thing of many you constantly need to worry about. it's not even adressing that your adhd treatment is still #kind of unclear who exactly is responsible. you've been running out of meds for a week and still haven't called because it's too much stress #or the way its been almost five years since you got on the waiting list at the gender clinic #three years of which were spent on the waiting list #but even now you've been “in treatment” for the past year and a half you still feel like you're no further. still no official “diagnosis”.#still no approval to change your birth certificate. your passport will run out by the end of the year and you'll have to get yet another #new one with your dead name on it. still no idea when you might finally get their approval to start on HRT. no idea when you might finally #get to stop feeling like every single day your body becomes a little less yours. where you look in the mirror and see someone stare back who #just simply looks wrong. feels wrong. you look at the hair on your head that really needs a haircut but you dont dare touch it because its #the one little thing that keeps the dysphoria at bay. and then you think of your dad and his bald head. and you look at your hairline and #cant help but wonder “is it receding a bit more right there?” always wondering if you'll lose this little bit of safety too #its all just too much. i dont know how much longer I can keep pushing myself forward at this rate. when all the good things get taken away #and I'm left having to deal with all of it on my own. i dont want to be alone but i dont know how to reach out to those around me. not even #to my friends sometimes. i know they're out there and i know they care but at the same time i dont know how to #let them. so I'm left alone and it's all my fault? isn't it. i know not all of this is my fault but also all of it is and i just

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starpros-sunshine · 2 years ago

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also i think that after seeing that Something is going out with his eichisama tori should also sneak into town to go and see what's the deal with this wataru guy. and he inevitably gets lost but meets hajime and they have a bonding moment barbie movie-style and him and tomoya help tori meet wataru. and then wataru sees tomoya and goes "oho! interesting child!" which once again leads to eichi unreasonable jealousy against this poor random kid

Okay so I've been thinking on this and I've been trying to get something coherent and bear with me right right.

(this got so long again I just started going into detail and detail and detail and oh god I am so sorry)

So Tori, poor, innocent Tori, has to come to terms with the fact that Eichi is hiding something from him (that "Something" being a tall blue-haired extra of unknown origin) and he knows that, technically, the mature thing would be to leave it alone. Eichi will have his reasons for being a little secretive about it. He has his own life and if he doesn't want to be open about...whatever it is that seems to be going on there.... then he doesn't have to be because the man has a right to privacy.

Tori knows that. But Tori also knows that being mature doesn't matter if, technically, his beloved Eichi-sama could be at risk of giving his heart away to a scoundrel that only wishes to play with him until he's bored and then throws him away, breaking Eichis heart in the process. We couldn't have that! And what if he's a criminal? Can you really trust someone who snoops around on other peoples property without their knowing? No you can't! So really it's only natural Tori wants to know what that guys deal is. Out of a genuine concern for his friend. Of course.

And so obviously it's a completely acceptable and normal and rational decision when he sees that Yuzuru isn't there for a moment to keep watch over him like the guard dog that he is (really Tori isn't a child anymore there's no need to be so overprotective) and the other staff members also don't seem to be around and Eichi is also nowhere to be seen, that he decides to take his coat and pack his little bag with some money (read: more money than just "some" money) and tries to sneak out of the house and down the path across the small meadow and the bit of forest that separates their not-so-humble abode from the small town where the other people live.

His inital plan simple. Go there; ask around a little, maybe try some tailing (after hearing stories from the other aristocrats about how one is able to hire people to follow their spouses around without them noticing - and that apparently being an actual thing people earn their money with - he's decided that it can't be that hard and he should try his luck.) and then leaving as quickly as possible, lest Yuzuru die of a heart attack after finding out Tori dissappeared. It would be quick and easy and nobody would ever find out. That was the original plan. But Tori very soon comes to find that that could prove harder than he thought when he notices he actually really really enjoys the feeling of not having anyone hover over him like some sort of falcon watching their prey.

The little river running by the path through the meadow is still frozen (It is winter after all) and the snow on the ground almost reaches his ankles. The 15 minute walk takes him 30 because he keeps jumping around in the snow (He's made three snow angels by now. For a second he has to think of his sister and of how nice it would be if she were here with him too and how they could make snow angels together were it not for her having to stay with their parents, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head again and decides to move on with his way).

When he eventually arrives at the town - and after just wandering aimlessly through the rather empty streets - there are three major epiphanies.

The first one is that he doesn't have a clear destination. He has no idea where to look for the blue-haired weirdo. The second is that, seeing as it is a forenoon in january, most people probably aren't spending their time outside. And if they are then they are at a different place than where he is. And the third and final one: He is completely and utterly lost.

It should be regarded as an accomplishment really. Getting lost in a town with a population of barely 300 locals living there. Indeed Tori would think it impossible. Yet here he is. If anything he's sure he's at least the only one who can claim this feat for himself. This is fine. He has this under control. If he just keeps walking then he's sure to come out somewhere (No there are no tears in his eyes anyone who says otherwise is just imagining things (he decidedly ignores the little voice in his head that tells him "Who's gonna say otherwise. Look around yourself, have you forgotten that you're all alone here?")). So the big brave boy that he is he marches onward, ignoring the way his fingers have started to feel numb from the cold and his eyes have not stopped watering and the little voice in the back of his head that tells him he should've just listened to Yuzuru (He banishes that one to the deepest depths of his subconscious very quickly. There are blows that his pride can take in these situations and then there's having to agree with "You should've just listened to Yuzuru". If There is one thing that can be said about Tori then it's that he is not one to simply give up. He has come this far and he'll be damed if he backs out now).

Lost in thought and not paying much attention to his surroundings (he has more important things to think about right now), he only manages to register a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. And because this could be what he's come here for in the first place but more importantly because this is a person and that is where the bar is set, Tori immediately tries to follow them. If Lady Luck is especially nice to him this time she lets this person be the mysterious stranger he's been looking for, but what feels like a day of walking through empty streets in the biting cold of a noon in late january have humbled him enough to not push it with his luck.

And when he turns the corner, calling out for the figure to wait, insted of the strange man he was expecting he comes face-to-face with a meekish looking boy with blue hair and big violet eyes and next to him there's a second boy, this one able to be described in all aspects with only one word: average. And for a solid ten seconds they all just stare at each other.

Tori doesn't really know how, he really has no idea, but somehow he ended up following the two home. Or, well, more or less. Following isn't really the right word here. After their almost-staring-competition on the street the meekish looking one with the blue hair asked him if he was alright because "he seemed lost" (he absolutely did not.) which then prompted an entire series of events that ended is Tori sitting in this strangers families home - with an entirely different stranger also there - getting a serving of what he assumes to be radish soup. Tori feels a little sorry for the boy, Tomoya, as he said his name was, who seemed like he was previously engaged in a conversation with the other boy, who later introduced himself as Hajime and who had spent the entire way asking him questions about how he ended up here and what someone like him was doing all alone in a sleepy village neighbourhood like theirs and if he really didn't need a tissue (He hadn't cried while explaining how he was lost. He totally hadn't) and on and on and on as Tomoya had to awkwardly walk behind them.

So now, sitting at this table with these two people who he has only met today and who have given him a bowl of soup to warm himself up with, he has to tell everything about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. At the end of his recollection of this oh so wonderful day he is met with two pitying looks an a laugh - apparently one of Hajimes younger siblings had joined them at their little impromptu gathering (he wonders, distantly, how his own sister is doing right now).

And as he's about to say that he should probably make his way home and resume his mission another time when he has a map, Hajime mentions that he actually knows the guy Tori is talking about and that he lives at the local inn and that that isn't that far from them and that he and Tomoya can walk him there if he wants to. Tori agrees immediately. He is so over trying to be discreet about it at this point he really just wants some sort of success in this kind of ridiculous endeavour he's set out on.

So after the soup is finished and his limbs don't feel like they're about to fall off anymore the trio goes on their merry way and Tori feels a little silly because for all the walking around he did before they reach this inn really pretty quickly... maybe he should've thought to bring a map... The three of them venture further into the inn, and Tori only overhears Hajime talking to an older woman, but he's more occupied with looking around the place. It's father homely and rustic, a completely different atmosphere than at their place. There are noises from the few patrons sitting at the tables and chatting with each other, but it only add to the cozy feeling of the entire place.

When Hajime comes back he leads Tori up a little stairway and down a dimly lit hallway. They stop in front of a door at the very end of it (in my head there's a bit of a terasse thing happening there like. you can look down into the part where the tables are and such right right) and Tori barely has time to mentally prepare for the fact that this really is happening now before Hajime knocks and the sound of muffled steps approaching the door can be heard.

When the door finally opens (it's been a few seconds at best but it feels like an eternity), Tori is greeted by the lovely view of a pair of pale clavicles, barely covered by a black linen blouse. He has to actively look up to look at the face of their owner and when he is met with a pair of sharp, purple eyes he feels like his throat just sew itself shut. Hajime explains to Wataru that Tori was looking for him and suddenly a light seems to go up above Watarus head as a look of recognition flashes over his face and he turns around to Tori again and asks him if he's "the princess that Eichi's been telling him all about". Tori is confused. Hajime decides that this is his cue to leave and he slowly backs away to go back down and collect Tomoya, who's been roped into helping out with the catering by some elder gentleman (Wataru watches Hajime as he collects Tomoya and they leave, intrigued by this strangely average boy, as Tori just stares in horror as the realisation dawns upon him that he is now completely alone with this man whom he didn't even intend on speaking to in the first place).

So now he is here. In this very awkward situation. Sitting on a chair in this strangers room (for the second time today! Did he ever have a day this eventful? Who knows! Tori for sure doesn't.). He wants to talk, but Wataru is faster and asks him what he's doing here. Tori doesn't really know how to reply. How do you talk your way around having to tell someone that you actually got lost on the way to spy on them. That's right. You can't. Well, Eichi could. But Tori is Tori and he never wished for that to change more than he did now.

He looks out of the window and it is at that moment that another three major epiphanies reach him. Firstly that he doesn't know what to do now that he's here, secondly that he's going to get murdered by Yuzuru (and if worst comes to worst also Eichi) once he gets back because he's been gone all day without telling anyone and they're probably all worried sick, and last but not least: it is dark outside. He can't go home like that. He is virtually stuck in this predicament he found himself in.

Wataru seems to have a similar thought, because the immediate follow up question after not really getting a coherent answer from Tori is if anyone knows he's gone. Tori shakes his head. If Tsukasa ever finds out about this mess of a situation he will have to die because he would never let Tori live that down.

He gets ripped out of his incoming spiral by the bird that takes a seat on his head and Watarus over-the-top contemplative sigh and the slight lilt in his voice when he voices the next issue that's in the room. He isn't even speaking to Tori anymore, but to his bird that sits on Toris head, Jeanne, and Tori is starting to get annoyed by the way he jokes about this entire thing, calling Tori a "a little bird that escaped its nest", as if he isn't stuck having to prepare for his untimely demise. And by the way this guy hasn't put down his cryptic smile and teasing voice ever since he entered the room. When he thinks things can't get any more awkward for him Wataru proposes two options. Either he walks him home, or Tori has to stay at the inn for the night and he brings him back in the morning. Tori decides he'd rather go back home sooner than later (he'll have to take the lacture either way and he's probably caused everyone enough worries by now anyways. And also he misses his bed.). So Wataru grabs his coat, quickly goes to tell the inn-keepers he's "bringing retuening the princess to ger people" (Tori doesn't know if he liked the bird comparison better or not).

The way back is still very tense because Tori does not dare to walk next to Wataru (he's sketchy it's not Toris fault it's a normal reaction) and so he just awkwardly walks behind him, He doesn't really watch his surroundings - it is dark and the only nice thing is that it's snowing and there are animal sounds and they are spooky and he needs to watch the way and it's easier to think that way - until suddenly he gets hit by a snowball right in the head. And he is so baffled by this that he just stares at Wataru, and Wataru grins at him with his stupid stupid grin and somehow they end up in a snowball fight on this meadow where the only reason you can see anything is because of the snow and when they finally arrive at the mansion they both have so much snow in their hair and their clothes are wet from the melted snow and when they knock on the door and wait for someone to open Wataru gets some of the snow out of Toris hair and says that that snowball fight can be their little shared secret and Tori grins back at him and agrees and when the door opens and both of them are frantically ushered in by a maid that tells another one to get Yuzuru and Eichi Tori decides that maybe this guy isn'r so bad after all. Maybe he's actually quite nice.

#And then Yuzuru scolds both of them #but that's alright because Tori had a very adventurous day #Wataru stays over over the night again because Eichi doesn't let him leave in “this kind of weather” (it's a very mild little snowstorm)#the entire time I was just imagining the backside of that coin with Yuzruru and Eichi realising Tori is missing and all hell breaking loose #it's a little funny to me idk #this was very Tori centric no Eichi in this story just Tori and Hajime and a little bit of Tomoya and Wataru #and I you can tell I was less. yanno. here because I only got really self indulgent with that ending #ALSO IT IS THREE AM THIS IS MY FINAL MESSAGE TO THE WORLD GOOD NIGHT #And this got so unbelievably long I have been sitting here for HOURS #Never let me write scenarios ever again it will go way ouf of hand and by the end I will have forgotten how to english #and it will show #and I will accidentally write an actual fleshed out silly little scenatio instead of just a long post #also I think this is the longest as of yet how did I do this #do you know how hard it is to describle Hibiki Wataru without sounding like the gayest person on the planet?#this was easier when it was about Wataei and I could just wax poetically about him #I don't even care I'm just looking forward to going to sleep right now #this could've been better but I'm not a fanfic author for a reason #namely because I'm bad at it #bard/noble au

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