#and just such good and right and fitting music always

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[scented-morker]

Skz when their overworked idol!gf faints

thank you to the anon that requested this!! it is LONG and idk why I gave so much backstory for all of them, but yolo! 2.3k words, fainting and overworking, a couple mentions of weight loss, worried and stressed skz. I fear this qualifies as angst

Chan

He's plenty familiar with the signs of being overworked

He's been trying to support you in any way possible, sending you meals to the company building and convincing you to get rest

You feel bad about giving the food away to your members and texting him goodnight while still working, but you're just too much of a perfectionist

He's excited to be on music bank at the same time as you because he's been having girlfriend withdrawals bc of how busy you were

So so happy watching you and your group rehearse, fawning over your oversized hoodie and little dance moves

But right as the dance break ends he sees you go down

Is nervous that you tripped, but he's sure you'll get back up fine and he'll just kiss your boo boos later

But then you don't get up, and he sees your members start yelling for help

When he realizes you passed out 🙃

Screw being secretive, he's jumping up onto the stage, taking his hoodie off and using it to prop your head up, interrogating all of your members about the last time you ate and your sleep schedule

He tells your manager that under no circumstances are you performing anytime soon

You're stuck laying in the green room with doctors surrounding you until the show is over and then instead of being sent home, Chan is taking you himself

You WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF, and that is a threat

Spends the next week fawning over you, cooking you meals and cuddling you half to death

"You scared me, angel. Let me take care of you now."

Minho

When I tell you he's pissed

He was so excited when you told him about your multiple stages for the golden disk awards

Until you're at three rehearsals a day along with fittings, photo shoots, and appearances

He loves that you're booked and busy, but not THAT BOOKED

He wakes up to your goodnight and good morning texts only hours apart and he cant think of the last time you were home for dinner

He's sent multiple paragraphs to your manager and emailed your company, to no response

He keeps telling himself he just has to make it through the award show and then everything will calm down

However, the lights going down at the end of your stage aren't dark enough to hide you fainting half way off the stage, and he doesn't even notice when he jumps to his feet

He gets yelled at to sit back down, and he only does so in order to grab his phone and call your manager ten times until they pick up

"Oh my gosh she's fine, stop calling."

"She just fainted on stage. She's not fine. Where are you?"

They don't want to tell him, but he pries the information out of them and soon he's tearing off backstage to find you

He kicks everyone out, and he looks so scary that they actually listen

"I'm sorry," your voice sounds so small, still weak from fainting and worried that he's mad at you

But he just shushes you, sitting down on the couch you're stretched out on and pulling you into him

"It's ok baby. You did so good. My strong girl. Just rest."

You sigh into the crook of his neck and he holds you backstage for the rest of the show, idol image be damned

Changbin

HIS BABY IS MAKING HER SOLO DEBUT

He could not be happier or prouder if he tried

He knows it's a lot of work, especially since you're producing and writing all of the songs yourself

He tells himself that he's overreacting, it's normal to see less of you when you're working on such a big project

But you always feed him with updates and stories about your day

So when he hasn't heard from you in three whole days, he's showing up at your stage rehearsal

He doesn't care what anyone says, he needs to physically see you or he's going to have a heart attack

He's relieved when you walk on stage, because at least you're alive

But it doesn't take very long for him to notice the dark bags under your eyes or the way your hand is shaking around your microphone

The second you hit the ground he's running

A background dancer carries you off stage, and they barely hit the curtain before he's snatching you out of their grasp

He walks with you so gently, sitting down on a couch and cradling you while the nurse takes your vitals

He's the first thing you see when you open your eyes and it squashes all of the fear that had filled your gut about what just happened

"Hi doll." He coos, and you give him a tiny smile

"I missed you"

Once you're cleared he's ordering takeout to his dorm and taking you home

Your performance is postponed because Changbin still hasn't put you down a week later

Hyunjin

He knows how excited you were to be going on tour for the first time, and that reminder has been the only thing getting him through

Every time you're meant to come home your company adds another night or a new leg, and Hyunjin is SICK OF IT

Poor guy has not seen his girlfriend in OVER A MONTH

He loves you so much that he watches clips of every show and performance

And he knows you so well that he notices the hollowness of your cheeks and the way you've started to struggle to keep up your energy on stage

Buys a ticket right then and there to your next show, not trusting anyone else to take care of you

He's standing in the wings as you and your group finish your first set of songs, rushing off stage to change outfits

He legit screams when you go down, and if the fans didn't notice before they definitely did after that

One of your members picks you up and soon there's a flurry of people running around trying to make sure you're ok

The other girls are shooed away to go change, with a manager insisting "the show must go on"

Hyunjin sends the man what is quite possibly the dirtiest look to ever exist

When you come to, your boyfriend is holding onto you for dear life, fighting away any staff member that tries to talk to you or coax you back onto the stage

He takes you back to your changing room and locks the door, feeding you small bites like a child and stroking a hand through your hair

"Don't worry about them, be here now. I got you."

Jisung

He's shocked when you casually mention news of your comeback at lunch together one day

"Aren't you not even done with this promotion yet? How are you already having another comeback?"

You shrug, saying something about your brother group not doing very well revenue wise and your boss wanting to take advantage of your groups current success

Jisung frowns at that, but decides to keep it to himself, surely as your companies main money maker you'll be well taken care of

But then you don't come home after your music bank performance because you have to run to a dance rehearsal

And then you have to cancel date night to re-record an entire song

Jisung shows up at the first sound check for your new comeback, and you happily give him a kiss before heading onto stage with your group

He frowns, worried about how small you felt in his arms and how weak your hold on his hand was

He sees you teeter once, accidentally bumping into another member before fully crashing onto the stage

He feels like he can't breathe watching the girls try to get you up and responsive

Your fans are screaming and there's a paramedic running over

He's holding onto your hand the entire time your vitals are being taken, tears streaming down his face

Once you're cleared he's wrapping you in a blanket and holding onto you like you're made of glass

When you wake up he's promising to never ever let you out of his sight again

"We're becoming a duo. You're never allowed to scare me like that again."

Felix

He is worlds proudest boyfriend

He gets to watch HIS GIRL perform onstage AT COACHELLA

He'd spent the day with you, taking pictures of your festival outfit and reapplying your sunscreen to try and keep you safe while in the middle of the literal desert

You'd kissed him goodbye three hours before your stage was scheduled for, needing time to get ready and have some extra rehearsal time

He isn't sure why considering you'd had rehearsal every day this week while also making interview appearances and flying to different locations in between instead of sleeping

He's trying his best not to worry, but your eyes are looking hollowed and he isn't sure the last time you slept in an actual bed instead of a plan seat

It makes him sad to see you unable to give your best energy during the performance, though you even at 50% was still the most exciting performance of the day

He plans on being backstage when you exit after at least two more encores, but you apologize for no encore tonight and are only halfway off the stage when you go down

Let's out the worlds biggest gasp

He follows right behind the paramedic that carries you off the stage and into the back, refusing to be more than a foot away from you at all times

He calls and cancels the rest of your appearances himself, insisting that you need to be resting

You do not escape his hold or your bed for the next two days

"Just let me take care of you! You deserve some princess treatment right now."

Seungmin

He's so so excited that you're also at lalapalooza bc that means you guys can spend time together even tho you're working!!

You're even an mc, so he gets to stare at you on the screen backstage, which just so happens to be his favorite hobby

He wasn't expecting your group to actually perform considering you'd just finished the Japanese leg of your tour and had been performing every night for the last few weeks

But he sees your stage listed on that days performance list, and he frowns thinking about it

He'd made you tea last night after you'd showed up to his hotel room on the verge of losing your voice, and you were so tense when you laid down that he'd rubbed your back for almost an hour with no difference

"Are you sure you should be performing?" He asks as soon as he enters your changing room

"No, but it's just one more stage and then I get to rot in bed for a while. So I'll be okay."

He still doesn't like it, and he shakes his head but gives you a hug anyways, rubbing a soothing hand down your arm

"You better."

He's so stressed he can't stay in the boys waiting room and he stands under the stage as he watches the lift take you and your group up

He catches a glimpse of your performance from the monitor to his left, and he barely breathes until you're taking your last bows

It isn't until the stage starts moving to bring you back down that he sees you wobble uncertainly before falling onto the ground

All of your members jump in surprise, but they don't even have time to react before he's jumping up with them, the lift not even fully on the ground yet

He picks you up and lays you down on one of the spare blankets backstage, propping your head up against his torso while the rest of your body lays between his legs

His thumb rubs your cheek while the medical team checks you out, clearing you when you become responsive

You blink up at him slowly, eyes shiny from unshed tears

"I guess I was wrong."

He sighs, letting you bury yourself into his chest

"That's okay, I've got you now."

Jeongin

End of the year award shows were no joke, and Jeongin knew you were working hard for your performances

Your group had just finished promoting your last album when the never ending flood of award shows started, and he'd found you knocked out asleep in the most random places the past couple weeks

He hated that your group had such loud antis, because he knew how much pressure you were under to prove yourself

You'd told him about the strenuous dancing you were doing, learning borderline acrobatic tricks while conditioning like you were trainees all over again

He'd done his best to remind you to rest and slip protein bars into every bag you owned, but he knew you were past exhausted

He momentarily forgot his worrying when you were performing, and he let out cheers and danced with the rest of his group while you and your members put on an incredibly challenging performance

But all of the fun was drained out of the air when he saw you go down on stage as soon as the camera zoomed in on your maknae's ending fairy

The lights drop, and Jeongin whips his head around in every direction, trying to think of anything he can do to help

Hyunjin asks him to “go to the bathroom” with him as soon as you’re offstage, and that’s all the clearance Jeongin needs to go running backstage

You’re already awake when he finds you, small tears slipping down your face while you nurse on a water bottle

You can’t even say hi before he’s practically tackling you, pulling you so close that you can feel his own heartbeat in your chest

“Are you okay? Oh my gosh you scared me. Don’t ever do that again.”

Your members leave the two of you be while Jeongin clings to you, refusing to let you go for hours, constantly brushing his hands against your heartbeat

[tan1shere]

Freak

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Oh hey ! It's tan. You know, the one who can't stick to one fucking story and never ends up finishing them anyways (I have 32 fucking drafts.) N E WAYS. I thought of this, yes another doja song. What can I say, she serves, ENJOY

Summary: you're both just as freaky.

Warnings: smut, car sex, use of daddy, riding, lowkey highkey fb billie - if there's anything else I haven't mentioned pls lmk !

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @xxangelfarrlzxx

^comment if you want to be added^

Masterlist

Parties like these were the best, dressing up as someone unrecognizable. This theme was roaring 20s for your friends 20th. Music was fitting to the time of this era. People dressed in specific outfits. Women in the iconic dresses, men in the vest, suit. Some wearing the iconic hat. But there was one female who dressed axactly like that. "Well well. Y/n." She says with a smirk. "Billie, always one to stand out huh?" She chuckles. "Why not, kinda pisses guys off and turns women on. Win win." You look at her full outfit. It honestly was turning you on. "What women?" Her brows raise. "Plenty. Heaps." You had zero clue why but that rubbed you up the wrong way. You knew she's been out with heaps of girls.

But it just got to you. Maybe cause you haven't had a piece yet. That'll change tonight, you plan to do so. You and billie always had chemistry. Having near incidents of kissing, sometimes more. But something always happens to get in the way. You were honestly drawn to her and little did you know she was drawn to you too. "Come here alone?" You shrug at her question. "Might have. You?" She thinks for a moment. "Possibly." The tension was thick, and God you just wanted to kiss her. But you keep your cool. Thinking of some form of a plan. You notice girls looking at her. "Damn, maybe you weren't kidding." She laughs again. "Do I kid, darling?" Even her mannerisms were fitting for the theme. Was it on purpose?

"Well, maybe you should go mingle." You go to turn around but she grabs your wrist. "Hey now, what if I want to talk to you." Progress. You smile. "You do? Really?" You ask so innocently. Then she comes out with something that shocks you. "Yeah. Maybe tonight there won't be interruptions like usual." Now you were stumped. So she was known to the coincidence too. She cared... "Maybe you're right." You subtly bite your lip. "Why don't we get a head start and get out of here." Your smile returns. "Sounds like a plan."

The car ride was antagonizing. But once she'd gotten to your place it was go time. So much feeling was brewing inside the both of you. And as you reach the door, followed by your room you waste no time. Your hands reach for the hat, chucking it somewhere. Her hands move to your body, letting out a content sigh like she's finally reached her life long goal. She definitely had. Her lips go straight to your own and you practically do the same sound as she did moments ago, except it came out as a moan. She had zero idea what she was getting into with you, but you had always wanted to try this with someone. But you had zero idea how she'd react. Good thing you'd enjoy it. You had moved her on the bed, watching as she sat on her elbows.

You knew Billie was dominant with the stories she told. But she had no. Idea. Just how freaky you could be. If anything she'd have more fun with this. You go to your closet pulling out some rope casually. Her left brow raises. "What you plan on doing with that?" You say nothing, moving over her. Her hand reaches for your jaw as you sutuate the restraint. "Huh?" Your shoulders shrug. "You'll see." She was about to protest but in a blink of an eye you were already doing it. Pushing her back and tying her to the bed. "Really?" She says as you giggle. "You're a fucking menace." You shrug. "Guess you didn't know how I'd be. Did you?" She looks in your eyes. "Untie me." You contemplate. She looked a little mad. Bingo. Just what you wanted. "Mmm no, Im just getting started Bils." Your hands move to somehow get some of her clothes off.

But with the way she acted before you got a brilliant idea that popped into your head. You go for your own clothing, taking of the head piece. The gloves, your dress. Slowly you did so. Very slowly, you didn't have a bra on so she was unexpectedly blessed by the sight. "Oh God." She lets out. Seeing as all she could do was use her mouth. Use her mouth... Now she, had a brilliant idea. Seeing as you weren't going to budge anytime soon. "Come closer for me." You look at her. "Why should I." "These aren't tight enough. I'd hate to just slip out." Your slow brain doesn't process right away as you lean over. Tits right in her face. Boom. "But you didn't want to escape earlier-" You say, as you tie them tighter. Stopping with realization.

You go to move but suddenly feeling a wet pair of lips on your bud. It hardening on her tongue. You mentally stop, soon after, you move again. "You tricked me." She smirks. "Like it was hard." Oops. "No, come on. Just Untie me. Cone on baby I know you want to." The name had you considering it. But you weren't done. "Nope." This only made her rage heighten. "You're a fucking brat you know that?" She didn't even say that sexually, she was just annoyed. But you loved it. You shift slightly as the words pass her lips. Then she spots it, spots why you were doing this. So she tries again. "Want to get me all riled up huh? You like being a slut." You tried to ignore it. "Go on then, keep going and you'll find out how it ends." You still had some form of confidence. Your lips move to her neck, letting your breasts rest on her chest.

This was driving her nuts. You were so caught up in giving her a hickey, you had no clue she'd escaped. "We could flip the coin." Your brows furrow when she says that. But you knew things were fucked as soon as you felt soft hands on your naked waist. "Uh oh." She smirks maliciously. Flipping you guys so you were underneath. "Yeah, uh oh's right babe. Big fat, fucking. Uh oh." You've never seen her like this. You thought the girls she's been with were exaggerating. Definitely not the case. Your eyes go wide. "How'd you-" She tuts. "So silly. Im surprised you'd try me." A split of confidence shines through. "Yeah it was fun." She laughs. And it immediately compels you. "Cute. Very cute. You won't be saying that soon babygirl. I can promise you that." You just give into her, you're desire won over. "I'll be your slave."

Her head tilts. "That's much better. More so than earlier right?" Your breath increases as her hand slowly slides down to your underwear. "Now shut the fuck up, and let me do my thing yeah?"

Your eyes shut. "Yes daddy."

"Good girl."

I ain't afraid of a little pain.

Weeks pass from that unforgettable night. And let's just say, you and Billie had been seeing eachother on the down low, constantly. Her past flings or whatever they even were would call her. Text her. And she couldn't give a rats ass anymore. Ignoring every single one of them. You infiltrated her brain entirely. Once she had a taste she never wanted to go back. But aside from the sexual, she had asked you to go out tonight. Which you had no idea wasn't the norm for her. She was definitely swoon. She honked her horn letting you know she was here. You scurry out seeing her standing by your side. Already open for you to get in. "Wow." Was all she said. "Could say the exact thing about you." You say hopping in. She was bewildered. I mean sure she's seen you dressed up. But not like this.

The night went on, it was beautiful and peaceful. She was the sweetest, conversation was filled with laughter and meaning. When you two go to leave, heading to the car. Something shifts. All of a sudden conversation was dead. Maybe it was her hand on your thigh as she drove. Her rings clod on your skin. The chunky metal clunking together as she moves her fingers around subconsciously. Her eyes were on the road but her mind was most definitely on you. Her fingers move upwards, under your tight skirt. The pad of her index touches your lacy underwear. Her teeth grabs her bottom lip, hearing you suck in a breath. She dips her finger past the fabric, touching you. Already soaked just from the tiny action. "Fuck." She says under her breath.

Her other hand still on the wheel. She swerves into an empty parking lot swiftly. The act, oddly attractive. She moves her hand out, grabbing your waist, getting you to sit on her lap. "Couldn't wait till we got back?" You pout mockingly at her. "Oh shut up, you have no clue." You grab her face. "Then tell me." You look into her eyes so sweetly. "Fucking hell." She groans, ignoring you and immediately kissing your lips. You sink into the feeling. Molding perfectly. "Need this. Now." She breathes against your lips. You just nod in reply, getting needier. She fiddles with her belt, getting the strap out. It was red, it matched your skirt. How on earth? How'd she even know- But as you were wondering you didn't even realize your skirt was bunched and underwear to the side.

You realize when the tip prods you. "Bils." You gasp, feeling it suddenly go in. Your body rising off of her, slowly sinking down. And the moan you let out almost makes her finish on the spot. "Jesus." She moans. You ride her, but painfully slow. Hearing a sound of annoyance coming from her. You smirk, slowing down more. "God you're a little bitch." Her hands grip your waist forcefully pushing you down all the way. You whimper. You moan, so caught off guard. "That fixed you huh." Your eyes shut at the feeling, feeling full of her. "Billie-" You gasp yet again, shocked at how good this specific one felt. "Chose bigger. Just, for. You." She truly was down bad. She continues her movements, hitting spots you've never felt such pleasure from before. "Daddy I want it faster." You moan into her neck as you had just moved it there. Breathing heavily.

Her hands speed up with ease, loving how your own hips would move on her. "Fuck you're so good. Might make me cum before you do." You chuckle into her skin, moving so you're facing her again. "Them bitches you fuckin with, I know they gon need some practice." She hums. "Nobody does it like you baby." Both of your lips connect again in a heated kiss, more heated than all the other ones you shared. There was something firey about tonight. Her hand moves to grab your shirt, lifting it. "Actually get to suck these without you being a pain." You giggle. "Oh come on, I know you love it." She doesn't say a word, moving her lips to the bud. Your moans high pitched. Her other hand moves to push the seat back. Having her lay down, your own hips take control as your hands move to her shoulders.

Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey.

Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D.

Her lips still sucking with intense need. Your head starts to spin as your argasm encroached. Moaning incessantly. She felt like she was in heaven, she could definitely die happy. Especially with your tits in her mouth. "Im so close Billie." You sigh out, feeling your movements getting sloppier. Her mouth retracts, moving her hands to your hips once again. Speeding you up. "Mmm, so am I." She bites her lip at the way you felt on her. She could feel your walls tighten as it get harder for her to move your body. "F-fuck!" You squeak, hadn't expected it to come out as fast as it did. The way she moved you, sends your legs to shake. Her finishing soon after, watching your face intently. Your eyes roll back.

After awhile you eventually catch your breaths. Calming down. "I had no idea you were this freaky. Pegged you to be more of the shy type." You smile as you lay on her. "Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste." - "Think I already have." You sit up straight going close to her face. "You haven't tasted me yet though." She smirks at you. "Maybe I should do that. Right. Now."

;)

[my-mind-mansion]

❣️Dancing with Alastor in his radio tower❣️

{you all seem to like my fanfics!!❤️❤️Nsfw next time??🤭}

It was late. 2 am. No sign of falling asleep any time soon. You decided to pay the radio demon a visit; you knew he would be awake.

As you approached his door, you heard his old-timey jazz music playing and smiled. His on air sign was off so you knew he wouldn’t mind you coming to see him. You held your fist up to the door, but it opened before your knuckles even touched it. You didn’t even have to knock; he knew your presence was there. “Hello there!” He smiled, as always. “Have you come to keep me company?” He asked as you took in every bit of his handsome appearance. Even at 2 am, he was dressed up in his fitted suit and bowtie. You blushed in embarrassment as you looked down at your pajamas and socks. Maybe I should’ve changed first. “Well, I couldn’t sleep so-“ you got cut off by him pulling you into the room by your arm. “Well I’m happy you’re here!” He exclaimed as he walked back over to his radio panel. “You know I’m a night owl myself, haha! It’s always nice to have someone to talk to! Would you like something to drink? I’ve got coffee, tea, water… or perhaps you’d like something stronger? Haha, I’m kidding!” As he rambled on and on, you smiled. You liked the sound of his voice and how much he talked; he liked when someone was there to listen to him yap.

You smiled and spaced out as he continued to be chatty. The warmth of his voice was friendly and comforting. You averted your eyes to the side and got lost in thought as his voice played in the background. “Well? What d’ ya’ say?” Was the line that snapped you back to reality. You blinked at him as he smiled at you. You were embarrassed. “Oh uhh..” you smiled nervously. He laughed. “Oh that’s quite alright, my dear.”

“I asked if you wanted to dance with me.” he smiled as he held his hand out. You gasped and took his hand without thinking. You could hardly contain your excitement. You couldn’t believe what he had just asked you. His smile was ever present as he pulled you in close to him, wrapping his other arm around your waist. You quickly became shy as your senses came flooding back. You were so overwhelmed with joy that you had forgotten something important. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you don’t know how to dance?” He teased as he looked down at you. It was true. You smiled nervously. He sighed. “Here. Put your other arm around my shoulder like I’m doing to your waist.” You followed his instructions. “Now, don’t you go stepping on my new shoes.” He teased as he took the lead. “And do try to keep up, dear.”

He smirked as he started spinning you around the room. The song that was playing had a quick and upbeat tempo. He moved through the steps like it was second nature, while you were tripping over your own feet. He laughed each time you tripped. You could tell he was enjoying watching you struggle as he smiled menacingly down at you. You let him have his fun for a while until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Alastor..” you said quietly. “Yes?~” he responded slyly. “Can you please show me how to do the steps?” You asked through a fake grin. “But you’re doing SO well!” He teased sarcastically. Obviously, that wasn’t true. You frowned and looked down as you tried hiding your disappointment. You were actually looking forward to dancing with him. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He sighed and let go of your hand, walking back over to the radio. You watched him change the station to a slower song. He snapped his fingers and your pajamas turned into the dancing dress of your dreams, accessories and all.

Your eyes widened as he held out his hand again. “I’ll show you the steps this time.” He said, apologetically. You gave him a small smile before taking his hand again. “Now, when I move my right foot forward, move your left back.” He said softly. You did. “Good.” He praised. You followed along and got the hang of it pretty quickly. Soon, the two of you were waltzing around the room with no trouble at all. Though every once in a while, you’d trip and he’d bite back a laugh. “Now, remember what I showed you, dear.” You smiled in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah..”

A few songs had passed and you were getting tired. You started nodding off while waltzing. You gently rested your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him. He gasped and widened his eyes. He froze. “The audacity of this girl.” he thought to himself. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I guess I can allow this.” He hugged you back. You smiled and nuzzled your face into his chest, feeling the fancy fabric of his signature coat. His embrace was warm and comforting. You felt safe to close your eyes knowing that he was there. At this point, the two of you were just swaying back and forth with no rhythm whatsoever. His soft humming along to the song acted as a perfect lullaby. Eventually, you stopped swaying. He tried to see your face but it was buried in his coat. You barely felt him pick you up as your eyes stayed closed. “Just as I thought.. she’s asleep.” He softly smiled and laid you down on his couch. He snapped his fingers and you were back in the comfort of your pajamas. Snapping his fingers again, he summoned a blanket. He tucked you in. He stood there and simply looked at your sleeping face for a moment; you were still wearing a smile. “Goodnight.” He spoke softly as his radio continued to play. You had spent the night sleeping in his radio tower as he watched over you.

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

FIVE ➺ the friendsgiving

masterlist

thanksgiving is about expressing gratitude for what you have, who you love, all of the blessings in your life that make it worth living. friendsgiving was a tradition to your group, a time to be together, to celebrate one another and cherish the bond you’d made over the years — does choi san want to be included, or change the meaning of friendsgiving for the rest of your lives?

w. angst, shit show below the cut good luck! also weed lol 7.3k

jeongin’s apartment was spacious, that much was clear — but fitting fourteen people in one place for a sit down dinner deemed itself near impossible. you’d done it last year, but you only had ten compared to this year’s addition, four extra people that you had invited. 

yunho, his girlfriend and wooyoung who insisted he bring san, despite your argument. he yelled he’s so miserable he needs to be surrounded by people over the phone and you argued, saying he didn’t look too miserable in my apartment the other day, but wooyoung insisted, fuck the logic of it all. you agreed after a moment of silence — everyone could act like adults for a couple hours, right?

the tree lighting ceremony which you attended after dinner was the real celebration anyways, friendsgiving was just the pregame. being on november twenty ninth, it was after thanksgiving yet far before christmas, a night that held the beloved tradition you’d created amongst the ten of you. for you and jeongin especially, but also for you, riley, and the other seven boys you’d grown to look at like siblings over the past three years. 

last year it was hectic, especially trying to get anyone to try and cook in the massive kitchen of the loft. you and riley attempted a turkey even though the two of you had never cooked one – riley just helped her dad who reigned the kitchen all her life and your mother had kept herself in the kitchen for hours ignoring anyone’s attempt to help your whole life — just like she did with everything. always to herself, worried only about herself, not a single care for anyone around her, even her family. 

you had no idea what it took to roast a turkey. you’d read tons of recipes, watched youtube videos, last year you really thought you had it in the bag. that was until you realized you hadn’t thawed the turkey properly… it did not cook in time for dinner, and you were not missing the tree lighting ceremony. you all feasted on side dishes instead, store bought and handmade (thanks to hyunjin and changbin), you had a plethora of options spread out across the entire kitchen and living room. 

the tradition of the tree lighting ceremony was a big deal for your group. riley and chan hated the entire idea when it was initially discussed, the crowd, the volume, just being in manhattan in general — with the rest of you besides felix begging the two to go the next year, for the ceremony to be the one thing they bend their rules for, they agreed. they found it heartwarming after some thought to have something so special, an entire event just for your friend group, to celebrate your years of friendship despite the discomfort of it all. plus… yours and jeongin’s anniversary, the place where you’d started dating, the event that he asked you to be his girlfriend at two years ago.

you should be ecstatic, filled to the brim with excitement to spend today with your closest friends, your boyfriend. there was christmas music playing throughout the apartment, the four roommates had decorated the space with snowmen and fairy lights and mistletoe, the apartment was filled with every holiday-induced feeling: joy, love, laughter filling the air. this holiday was huge for you and your friend group, the most special one of them all, yet one issue stood tall for you. there was a massive elephant in the room and it was not the lifesize reindeer chan bought from an estate sale months ago. 

you and jeongin weren’t exactly on good terms but you weren’t necessarily on bad terms, either. you hated gray, you hated in between, you hated whatever the fuck was between you right now. when you arrived, you’d received a happy two years with a kiss on the cheek, but no longer than a second of eye contact, no hug, no smile. you’d left last night after hours spent groveling damn near at his feet, begging for forgiveness for not putting him first, swearing to him that you’d change. he forgave you, but how much can be done with any actual proof of your efforts – any action?

only time would tell, and the real issue still stood – the one place where you couldn’t agree. in hindsight, it really was simple – but mingi’s words sat heavily in the back of your head. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

the words rang in your head like a catchy commercial, a sing-song of dread that wrapped around your head like the soundtrack to a carousel. you agreed with him, it made sense – if jeongin doesn’t understand your schedule now, it will only get worse, if he can’t put himself in your shoes then why would you give him any more pieces of you? why are you beating around the bush if he’s not in it until the end, he said he wanted to marry you – but he can’t handle your schedule? the schedule that will just only get worse? mingi said it, hongjoong said it, it had to be the truth, coming from two people who have experienced this already. 

does he listen to your songs, give you advice, tell you how good he thinks you are? did he push you to get an internship? does he give you advice about your schoolwork? does he even know you’re falling behind in school?

you still couldn’t see it clearly, this wasn’t black and white. the gray area you hated so much was how much you love him, how you know every single part of jeongin that makes him himself, every trait you’ve spent the past two years falling in love with. he knows the same about you, he’s your other half – and you’re arguing about a fucking schedule change? mingi said it himself, you spent too much time at the label already, you need to create boundaries. these people are your life, your best friends, your family… how are you going to give that up? it was fucking war in your mind. 

“girl, you haven’t stirred the potatoes in at least three minutes, what’s good with you?” han came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, putting his hands over yours that held the wooden spoon and the bowl, beckoning you to relax.

“jesus, ki, it’s not going to run away from you,” he continued, loosening up your fingers’ grip on the spoon. you let go of both the bowl and the spoon, then quickly wiped your hands on the bright pink apron you found in the pantry – felix’s.

“i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you shook your head, shaking him off of you, letting a controlled breath out from deep in your lungs. you didn’t know how long you were standing there, staring straight ahead, tight grip on the utensil. 

“you okay?” he asked as you both turned to face each other, he moved to your side with his eyebrows furrowed, big doe eyes staring at you with concern. 

“i’m fine,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, definitely not a convincing one, you hoped he didn’t notice. you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, letting out a forced chuckle, “no biggie, don’t worry. i’m just in my head.”

“i heard about you and jeongin,” han frowns, leaning his hip against the counter – there was fortunately no one else in the kitchen, everyone dispersed throughout the apartment, maybe out smoking on the rooftop. 

“word travels fast, huh?” you gave another forced smile, turning your attention back to the potatoes, grabbing the spoon to keep stirring. it was a clear display of disinterest in the topic at hand, you hoped he’d drop it, but knowing him – he did not. 

“with us? yeah,” he paused, racking his brain to figure out how to articulate himself properly, “i don’t think you guys have ever fought like this, but me and minho went through something similar the first time he had intensives – he was so exhausted he barely had time for me for a month, i nearly lost my fucking mind.”

you watched as tattooed fingers grip around the spoon a little harder, white knuckles a hard contrast against the deep wood, the digits not seeming much like yours anymore. “hanji, no offense but this is the last thing i want to hear–”

“you didn’t let me finish,” he put a hand on your shoulder, and your neck craned to see him, keeping your body facing the bowl. he had a weak smile, his eyes still filled with uncertainty, maybe a bit of apprehension as he spoke. “i expressed my concern and he changed. he made the time, when intensives were over he made sure to spend almost an entire week with me, nearly uninterrupted.”

a pit grew in your stomach, white hot rage bubbling up inside of you, “isn’t that beautiful? how kind he is to you, jisung.” sarcasm dripped from your words, a fake smile sitting on your cheeks, you could feel your ears turning red – somehow you gripped the spoon harder, wood threatening to snap under your grip. 

“he fucking loves you, dude, he’s told us too many times, too many drunken nights spent up there saying i love ki i’m going to marry her,” han shrugged, turning away from you, walking around the marble island with his eyes trained on yours. last christmas flowed through the kitchen, the sweet melody of the song a harsh contradiction to the rage that consumed you, the song somehow making you angrier. 

you continued stirring the side dish again, whipping the potatoes a little too aggressively as your blood pumped in your ears, “did he send you here to talk to me or something?”

“no, god no,” han shook his head, standing across from you, both of his arms stretched out across the island, leveling him as he stood at the counter that came just above his hips. 

you snapped – you think it would’ve been better if jeongin had sent him. “so you’re just sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” your tone was just as harsh as your words – you could see han’s face twinge, his eyebrows shoot up, his lips parting to speak. you cut him off. “did he tell you he threatened to break up with me because i’m not sleeping with him enough?”

han stayed silent, shaking his head back and forth, those big doe eyes full of shock – you’ve never snapped at any of them before, never spoken with such anger. you needed air. 

you took a breath before you spoke, calming your tone to ease both han and yourself, “i’m glad minho made you feel better and made more time for you after his intensives but my job is a little bit different,” you made a pinching motion with your fingers on your free hand, “i’m in a transitional period, that’s all. trying to figure out time for school and myself and jeongin, it’ll get better, we won’t break up. don’t worry.”

han nodded, not giving you much of a verbal answer, his eyes still full of worry and surprise. your head sank with your eyes shut tight, your patience was running thin – you were tired of talking about this, with jeongin, with riley, with mingi – now han? you dropped the spoon, let go of the bowl, then wiped your hands on your apron again. 

“i’m sorry for snapping, hanji, i’m just stressed,” your words were choked, hands reaching to cup your makeup-covered cheeks, praying your cold palms would cool down the heat in your face. you left the kitchen in a hurry, not waiting for his answer, ignoring everyone in the living room, making a beeline for the back door. you raced up the steps to the rooftop, the cold november air slapping you across the face, pulling your anger from deep in your core right to the surface. 

“you alright?” riley was quick to approach you, feet skipping in your direction from where she stood along the rooftop with chan, hyunjin and changbin. the white in her eyes had turned red, they were smaller, glossed over — they were definitely smoking. 

you let the door shut behind you, letting your head fall back against the metal, letting a breath out from deep in your lungs. you were tired of this topic of conversation – jeongin wasn’t even around and you were still discussing the status of your relationship. tears quickly stemmed, traveling to the front of your face with a passion, dancing along your waterline. 

“oh shit, what the hell happened? jeongin?” she asked, hands on your biceps with a concerned look, small eyes wide, searching yours for an answer. you lifted your index fingers under your eyes, trying to stop the tears from ruining your makeup, you didn’t need everyone to know what you were doing up here. you didn’t answer, you focused on steadying your breathing, trying to stop the breakdown before it really started. 

you took another deep breath before answering, “i just snapped at hanji  in the kitchen, he was talking to me about jeongin.” 

the confession only made the tears fall quicker, they piled over your waterline, over your fingers, skipping over your digits and onto the ground beneath you. you tried not to cry cry, letting the tears fall but you kept your breathing steady, fighting not to break into a full out sob. 

“why was he giving his two cents on your relationship?” riley scrunched up her face, rubbing your arms, “that’s not his place, your snap was valid.”

you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, keeping your face level to the ground – if tears were going to fall, better they fall directly to the ground. 

“fuck,” you cursed under your breath, “i’m so over it, ri.”

riley moved to your side, her back against the door, rubbing small circles on your back. “you’re under a lot of stress dude, that’s perfectly understandable. you talked to jeongin at all today?”

you shook your head, “he kissed my cheek when i got here and said happy anniversary, but he’s been drinking with san and minho and the rest of them in the living room since.”

riley sucked in a breath through her teeth. “we’re both in trouble today,” her words were quiet, almost under her breath, no doubt so chan couldn’t hear. you took a pause, thinking about her words, then a laugh escaped your lips. 

you both paused for a moment and you turned your head to look up to her, the both of you falling into giggles. you were in this together, in more ways than she knew. 

christmas music continued to fill the air of the apartment, the lingering stench of skunk from your clothes mixed with the smell of the stuffed turkey cooking in the oven, you were feeling a million times better. chan approached you apprehensively on the rooftop, the joint in his hand, a peace offering to show you he wasn’t on either side nor in the middle. no, chan was a friend, and you needed as many of those as you could get right now. you took a hit to relax you, the weed filling your lungs was much better than the breaths you were forcing, the brief high grounded you. 

you were able to head back to the kitchen, tears long gone, apron still tied with hyunjin following you around like a lost puppy. he didn’t approach you on the rooftop until you were smiling, your eyes red and slightly smaller, he let riley and chan whip you back into shape until he felt it was okay for him to take his turn to cheer you up. he stood with you at the stove, a pan full of vegetables in front of you, handing you each ingredient you asked for with a hushed giggle because the appearance of oregano was similar to what you’d just been smoking – “do you think seungmin keeps his stash here to hide it from the others?”

it was just oregano, that you knew, but you bursted into a fit of giggles anyway at the silliness of his question. if anyone could help your mind drift somewhere else, it was hyunjin.

riley and chan joined you in the kitchen, riley had picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and finished what you had started, mixing the bowl while her and chan giggled to themselves. changbin, yunho and aera lingered in the kitchen looking for snacks but ended up in a deep discussion about the history of EDM music. yunho glanced at you with a weary eye every few minutes, knowing exactly what was up even if you didn’t explicitly say it. knowing han, he probably told everyone in the apartment the second you ran up the stairs. 

and still, jeongin has not spoken to you – hadn’t even glanced up from his spot on the couch when you returned from the rooftop. 

“are there more millers in the fridge?” you turned around at the easily recognizable voice, riley looking up at the same time you turned. san stood in the empty space that was the entrance to the kitchen, empty bottle in his hand, looking around the room with raised eyebrows.

“yeah, man, in here,” yunho said from his spot next to changbin, the pair stood next to the stainless steel. yours and riley’s eyes both seemed to follow him from his spot all the way to the fridge, you cringed, the hairs on your arms threatening to stand tall. 

it was so… uncomfortable. riley and chan have been harmonious all day, you’ve always known chan is a perfect gentleman but seeing him with riley was something else entirely. holding doors open, drinking from her straw, finishing her sentences, moving a stray hair from her face, it was so domestic – like they’d been together for years. to put yourself in san’s shoes, to watch her with someone else after he’d spent so much time with her was painful. 

to make it all worse – san knew every single detail, but chan did not. riley probably felt how you did whenever mingi was on the rooftop – that feeling you knew all too well. 

“don’t forget to stir, princess,” hyunjin said from beside you and it snapped you back into reality, you quickly moved the vegetables around on the pan, scooping the liquid from the pan and draping it over the vegetables. by the time they were done, you were tired of standing and your mouth was dry – the weed had done more than just calm you down. you quickly walked over to the fridge, past yunho, aera and changbin to crack open a beer for yourself. 

“keeks,” changbin wandered over to the fridge, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him. in a brown sweater that hugged every single muscle on his broad chest, he looked delectable. he put one arm up on the fridge, using it as leverage as he crossed one leg over the other, standing tall against the height of the fridge.

you raised your eyebrows, sipping your beer, prompting him to continue without a verbal response. 

“about jeongin…” he started, looking everywhere but in your eyes, his voice soft but uneasy. your eyes shot wide – this cannot be fucking happening again. 

“ah!” was yelled across the kitchen, a sound of annoyance, a sound that meant shut the fuck up. riley had a finger up in front of her, wiggling it back and forth – her eyes just as wide as yours but full of assertion. “we will not be doing that anymore tonight, get over here and cut up some butter.”

a wide smile racked across your face, your cheeks feeling sore at this point. god, you fucking loved that girl. you shot her a grateful look, nodding with a tight lipped smile, and made your way right back to hyunjin. 

“...and that’s why i told you to keep your mouth shut about it, it’s none of our business,” minho said, his voice coming clearer as he walked into the kitchen right behind han. 

everyone’s heads turned to look at the pair who stopped in their tracks, everyone’s expression utterly fucking blank. a laugh bubbled in your throat, one you couldn’t help from spilling out, one that filled the open space of the room that was just so uncomfortably silent. everyone’s heads turned to you, all sixteen eyes wide.

“should we sit in a circle and discuss it as a group at this point? someone call jeongin in here, too,” the words slipped from your lips so carelessly, irritation clear in your words, your entire body vibrating as you spoke. if everyone was going to talk about it amongst themselves, without the two people the situation was even about, fuck it – why not talk about it with everyone instead?

you couldn’t stub your toe without everyone knowing, it was the only negative part of your friend group, an aspect that wasn’t inherently negative all the time. here, today, on the most important day for everyone… it felt like your friends really fucking sucked. 

jeongin’s head popped right around minho’s, copper curls a stark contrast to minho’s dark ones. his eyebrows were raised at the mention of his name, clearly not knowing at all what you guys were talking about. 

“call me for what?” he asked as he made his way through the kitchen, no one moved an inch, eight pairs of eyes trained on his red tee as he made it to the fridge. “just need a beer,” he still had an eyebrow raised, and yet no one spoke a word. “why are you guys acting so fucking weird?”

everyone went back to what they were doing moments prior, as if nothing happened at all. you turned around, facing hyunjin again, hands immediately going to cool down your cheeks again. you whispered what the fuck under your breath about six times, then ran a hand through your hair. 

hyunjin put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it before he whispered, “he’s gone now.” he looked around the kitchen before his eyes settled on changbin, then his eyes went wide, “oh shit, bin, please tell me you remembered the apple pie, i think we forgot it on the table.”

the turkey was ready on time this year – you were shocked. the air smelled so delicious, it was as if martha stewart herself came to this apartment and cooked you all a gourmet thanksgiving dinner. from all the barefoot contessa episodes of food network you’d been watching before bed the last week, you felt as if you really learned something, you couldn’t believe you planned out everything perfectly with ingredients, timing, the amount of food, everything. this had to be your and riley’s best work yet. 

it wasn’t just you and riley in the kitchen all day — there was also felix, seungmin, yunho and aera when they arrived, changbin, hyunjin, wooyoung even came in the kitchen to whip up the cranberry sauce. from stuffing to sweet potato casserole, you felt like you were doing the true american thanksgiving, not only participating in it but you actually cooked a lot of it from scratch. if your parents knew, they’d be shocked, too, maybe even proud of you. 

one more problem still remained: fitting fourteen people to sit down and eat it all. the apartment was massive, there was an incredible amount of space, the roommates fit tons of people on the rooftop every other weekend – but fitting them inside? 

there was one dining table that seats six, eight if you brought over the lawn chairs from the rooftop, but that still left six people standing or in a whole other room. the open floor plan of the apartment made it so there weren’t really rooms, but the living room was still far enough from the dining room that it was awkward. last year, you all ended up standing, only seungmin and han sat down at the table – with just appetizers it didn’t give off the sit-down vibe. this year you had a display of food, the plates themselves took up most of the table space. 

seungmin, felix, yunho, aera, han and minho were already seated – you left the other two seats up to hyunjin and changbin. that left riley, chan, san, wooyoung, jeongin and you in the kitchen, a terrible combination, probably the worst mix of people that could’ve ended up together. 

wooyoung’s cheeks were bright red and his chest matched, his button down shirt that had three buttons left open exposed the amount of beers he had already consumed – also the fact that he was the only other person in the room that knew everything. he kept catching your eye, trying not to smile, but you could tell he was about to burst. you just prayed he kept it in. 

“are we just gonna stand awkwardly around the table, or eat in here?” riley asked, her eyes continuously darting around the room. you could see in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks that matched wooyoung’s, she was feeling the same way as you were, discomfort, uneasy about what comes next. she kept shifting her weight from leg to leg, bouncing back and forth from each side of the island, cleaning up the area that had already been cleaned as best it could.

“it’s like the kid’s table,” wooyoung giggled to himself, “but instead of the kid’s table it’s the outcast island.”

you raised an eyebrow toward him, you were sure everyone did, your heart picking up a beat. maybe you were being paranoid – he wouldn’t expose anything, not here, not now.

“what do you mean?” jeongin asked from across the island – you hadn’t even pulled out plates for yourselves yet. 

“this is a crazy group of people,” wooyoung shrugged, sipping the beer he held in his hands, chipped nail polish perfectly matching the frayed label of the bottle. san laughed from his side, turning around to face the fridge so no one caught his chuckle – everyone did. your heartbeat quickened, widening your eyes in a please shut up kind of way, and wooyoung just laughed as he caught your eye.

“why is it crazy?” chan asked, looking around the room before he bent down to riley’s ear and whispered way too fucking loud, “is he talking about jeongin and ki? i thought that topic was off limits for the rest of the night?”

your head went into your palm, eyes shut tight, muttering a jesus fucking christ under your breath.

riley looked around the room, completely ignoring chan, “you guys should go get some food.” she nudged chan’s side, her eyes saying that means you, too. she looked to you with wide eyes and used her head to nod toward the hallway leading towards jeongin and chan’s bedrooms, you gave one nod of your chin back in understanding, following her through the space of the apartment as the others left for the dining room.

“i can’t do this,” her voice was hushed, shaky and stressed. her eyes were wide, her hands sat on the sides of her head pushing her hair back, “chan and san both in the same room, i can’t do it. then wooyoung made that comment and san laughed? i’m freaking out, ki.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, breathe,” you kept your eye contact strong as you breathed with her, taking a soothing breath from all the way in your stomach before you continued, “i’ll tell wooyoung to shut the fuck up and stop being so obvious. i don’t know what’s going on, i’m sorry.”

“chan isn’t ready to date yet and i know that, i–” she shut her eyes, taking another deep breath, “this is the last place i want him to find out i’m still sleeping with san.”

“he doesn’t want to date yet?” your eyes were wide with surprise, you didn’t know this, you and riley still haven’t discussed the whole thing. she whined, a high pitched noise slipping from her lips, her hands immediately going back in her hair.

“he’s still freaked out about that eden girl who cheated on him,” she answered quickly, “but i’m not even mad because i can’t exactly let go of san, either.”

“oh shit, ri,” a laugh escaped your throat, “we really need to talk this shit out.” 

“i know, but now isn’t the time or place,” she sighed, “now i’m panicking that his plan was to expose me or something by coming here.”

“i really don’t think san would do that,” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing. you couldn’t begin to understand how san felt, but knowing san, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone – it’s not in his character.

“then why would wooyoung say that? they’re playing with fire, ki, you heard them,” she was whisper-yelling now, her hand shooting out in the direction of the living room outside of the hallway. 

“i do not think wooyoung and san would come here just to expose you to chan, ri,” you put your hands on her shoulders, “wooyoung wouldn’t do that to me and san wouldn’t do that to you.”

“i hope you’re right,” her eyes closed, a hand going through her hair again, “i can’t handle losing chan for this stupid of a fucking reason, i think if chan found out it would push him over the edge and he’d never trust a woman again. i need to end things with san – again.”

“i don’t think i was supposed to hear any of that.”

your heads whipped behind you, a figure stood at the end of the dim hallway, and the whole world went silent. chan stood with his jaw locked, his hands in fists at his sides, his eyes unreadable – you’d never seen chan anything but happy, maybe stressed during midterm and finals season, but never this. never anger. 

“chan,” riley choked out, a hand clasping over her mouth, “i–”

he took a step closer, you felt so fucking small between them. you took a step back toward the wall, giving them space, removing yourself from their eyeview, from the situation entirely. 

“i came over here to see if you were okay,” he hissed out with furrowed eyebrows, “did not expect to find out you’re fucking the guy that was just snickering in the fucking kitchen.”

“chan, i did not want you to find out this way,” riley started, and you side stepped, wanting to get out of the hallway – this was between them now. her eyes panned to you, wide and full of shock, fear, something else you couldn’t decipher. it meant please don’t go. 

“you didn’t want me to find out at all,” he laughed, a sarcastic chuckle so dark you’d never heard anything like it leave his lips before. 

“that’s not true,” riley shook her head, her voice small, “i’m so sorry.”

“i spent hours telling you how terrible she made me feel, how fucking awful it was finding out she cheated on me, i went in detail on what that did to me, ri,” his voice cracked, his shoulders slumped. chan wasn’t just angry – chan was sad. 

his words stuck with you – your eyes couldn’t leave him. his words hit directly in your gut, your soul – chan and eden were together for something like six months? and her cheating on him affected him this much… guilt sat in your stomach. 

“i know, i should’ve been honest from the start, i’m so sorry,” tears welled up in riley’s eyes, “i should’ve told you.”

“what goes on?” seungmin’s head peeked around the corner, eyeing the three of you, his eyes curious. you all turned to look at him and his eyes widened, “oh shit, what the hell happened?”

“riley’s been fucking san,” chan didn’t look at seungmin as he said it, he kept his eyes trained on riley as he spoke, his jaw locked again. 

“come on, chan,” you interjected, “gonna let the whole house know?”

they both turned to you, riley’s eyes full of tears, chan’s pained expression told you that you should’ve kept your mouth shut. 

“why not? she did it,” he looked at you as if that was the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, his words still coming out choked. how could you forget? if one of them knows something, they all know it. seungmin, like a messenger pigeon, was gone from the hallway the second the words left chan’s lips. 

you shut your eyes tight – this was so fucking bad. you didn’t know how you were going to go out there and face everyone after this, were you even going to make it to the tree lighting? you wouldn’t do it without riley, it was too important, she was the one who introduced you to them in the first place. 

“i really thought you were it, ri. thought we were it,” chan shook his head, snapping you back into focus, and a sob left riley’s lips, her tears free falling now. 

“you don’t even want to date me, chan, how were we it?” she asked through her sobs, a fire of her own starting to burn, her face increasingly more red as the conversation continued. 

“i want to, i’m just not ready, it doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen,” his voice got louder, it was strained, full of frustration, the veins in his neck becoming more visible. he was trying to keep his own emotions to a minimum.

“and what, i’m just supposed to wait for you to get over it? wait for you to be sure about me?” the volume of her voice matched his, a sharp edge to it, she was getting pissed. a smile threatened to break on your face, that’s your riley.

“no, riley, what? there was no waiting, i– we’re together every fucking day. i just wasn’t ready for a title,” he was talking with his hands now, stumbling over his words. she caught him, she hit checkmate.

“if we’re together every day then we should’ve had a title, chan. if there’s no title then i’m single,” her smile was victorious through her tears, “if i’m single i can do as i please, right now i just want to eat the dinner i just spent hours making.”

with that, she maneuvered past him, grabbing your wrist to pull you through the end of the hallway. you stayed quiet – you didn’t know what to say other than what the fuck just happened? a sadness sat in your stomach, a mixture of the thought of riley going through all of this alone and the pain chan was feeling from not only eden but also riley sleeping with someone else. 

you made your plates in silence, the dinner table eerily quiet as riley slammed food on her plate, not at all careful about hitting the metal spoons against the ceramic. makeup stained her cheeks in lines of tears, her sniffles the loudest thing in the room. you followed along quietly, your face blank, santa claus is coming to town by justin bieber lingering in the background, tension so painfully thick in the air the situation was almost laughable. almost. chan followed momentarily after, standing to the side with his jaw locked again, his eyes red and glossy. everyone already knew, but even if they didn’t, it was so fucking obvious what had just happened – you wanted to grab riley and make a run for it. 

as she put a biscuit on her plate, she turned to the table and smiled, “should we all say what we’re thankful for?”

everyone stared at her for a moment before they nodded in agreement, small mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘totally’ slipping through. you were on edge, you didn’t know how to handle her right now, didn’t know what she was thinking and that made you panic.

“i’ll go first,” she smiled, standing at the head of the table, the warm, dim lighting catching the streaks on her face that were still wet, “i’m thankful for being alive, being healthy, and especially thankful for choi san’s stroke game.”

you gasped, everyone fucking gasped, a snort left your nose. her face was blank, she was so serious, you glanced to chan whose gaze was so pointed at san you were grateful looks couldn’t kill. 

“i’ll go next, then,” chan declared from his spot to the side of her, behind han, and everyone’s eyes moved together – this was so not good. “i’m thankful for my friends, my family, the meal, and i’m thankful to be single, not dating another fucking cheater.” 

“cheater?” a laugh escaped riley’s lips, “we were never fucking dating!”

“ki, do something,” jeongin quietly said from beside you, when he got there you weren’t exactly sure. your face grew hot under his gaze, you hadn’t looked at him in the eyes in so long.

“ki can’t do anything,” san said from across the table, stood behind hyunjin and changbin, then sipped his beer casually. all of the blood drained from your face, you stayed quiet.

“can’t call out your friend for cheating when you’re a cheater yourself, right?” your world fucking stopped when the words left san’s lips. wooyoung turned to him with wide eyes, yunho’s head snapped up from the table. everyone else gasped again. 

“i– what the fuck are you talking about?” you snapped, your eyebrows furrowed. you looked to jeongin beside you who’s eyes wouldn’t leave san, the blood drained from your face, you couldn’t breathe. you needed to stay calm.

“continue,” jeongin’s chin jutted up to san, his voice entirely too natural. he didn’t seem stressed or upset at all. you glanced to riley who stared at you with wide eyes, her lips parted. you couldn’t read her.

“wooyoung and i are roommates, ki, you think i don’t know?” san laughed to himself, sipping his beer again. his stance was casual, one hand in his pocket and one hand wrapped around his beer as if he wasn’t ruining your life. riley was right about san coming here to expose, but she wasn’t right in who he was exposing. 

“i didn’t tell him anything, whatever he’s about to say is a lie,” wooyoung’s words came out fast, rushed, shaky – a lie no one would believe. 

“that night you spent in the studio with mingi? you know, your coworker?” san raised his eyebrows, his head cocked to the side, “come on, ki, i know you know what i’m talking about. you just told wooyoung on thursday.”

your breathing quickened, your face probably beat red with how much heat you were feeling. your reply came out just like wooyoung’s rebuttal, too quick, too shaky to be true, “you’re a liar.”

“no he’s not,” jeongin sipped his beer, “makes sense why you’re at the label so much then, huh? spending time with your other boyfriend?”

he finally looked at you – his eyes were cold as ice. so detached, so far away, there was no anger – there was just a wall. you could throw up everywhere. 

“jeongin, he’s fucking lying–”

“you and yunho both, actually, i guess riley, too. bunch of cheaters,” san shook his head with a tsk, “aera, if you didn’t know, yunho cheated on his girlfriend of four years to be with you.”

aera turned to yunho with an eyebrow raised, “i knew it, that’s why we went to a hotel? you never had roommates, did you?”

you turned back to jeongin who’d already begun walking toward his bedroom, too much leisure in his step, too much calm compared to what you felt – you were going to be sick. mingi’s words hang in your head again. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

“jeongin, please listen to me,” you pleaded, stomach hot, “san doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“then what is he talking about?” jeongin asked, his voice too casual, too cool. he stood in his doorway, the light of his bedroom dim behind him, the hallway even darker, he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. maybe he believed you, maybe he wouldn’t believe san at all. 

“i don’t know, nothing happened with me and mingi,” your shoulders were slumped, your face stoic. you placed the end of a piece of hair between your fingers, jeongin’s eyes immediately catching the action. a laugh escaped his lips. 

“i knew it was some shit like this,” he ran a hand through his hair then shook his head, “please get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

“jeongin, wait,” you moved closer, hand reaching to grab his forearm. he snatched it back, looking up to you with those cold, icy eyes once more. 

“you don’t want to fucking be with me, ki. you don’t want a boyfriend. you want to be a producer, you want to go to shows, hangout with your record label friends, drink at bars in brooklyn on weeknights when you should be doing your fucking homework that i know you haven’t done in weeks, you want to be single. you need to be single.”

you stared at him, your lips parting to speak, but you had nothing to say. no words would come out, even after you willed them to, begged them to. there was nothing you could say to fix this – no words to use as a bandage, a splint, a cast, nothing to hold up a relationship that had already been utterly destroyed. there was no coming back from this. 

you whimpered, a sound of despair, a sound that came from so deep in your chest you didn’t really know if it came from yourself. “i’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your waterline, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

“have fun in LA, safe travels. delete my fucking number please,” he stepped back into his room, a fingers wrapped around his door. he paused, icy eyes meeting yours again, “i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.”

he shut his bedroom door, his voice didn’t waiver once. you stood, facing his closed door, the dark wood staring at you, mocking you. the walls closed of the hallway closed in on you as you stared back, so many nights you’d spent behind that same door, in bed with him, playing games on his computer, watching tv, so much of your life you’d spent enclosed in the four walls of his bedroom. you’d miss it. 

your eyes were trained on the floor as you walked back towards the living room, you thought maybe you were in shock – two years today. you really weren’t going to the tree lighting after all. 

“ki,” riley whispered, immediately approaching you, wooyoung at her side. 

“i didn’t know he was going to say all of that, i’m so fucking sorry. i thought we were just messing around in the kitchen, i didn’t know that would happen, i’m so sorry,” wooyoung was speaking fast and hushed, words only you and riley could hear. you looked up at him, then realizing your face was wet, tears you didn’t know you had spilled. 

“we have to go,” you choked out, your eyes trained on the floor in front of you again. riley had gotten your bags from the living room, and you were on the sidewalk before you could process how you got there.

two years. he’s a middle child, he can sing, his favorite food is chicken, he hates beans. he was a child model, he’d be a preschool teacher if he wasn’t in school to write musicals. he loves ASMR, he loves watching mukbangs, his favorite color is pink, he loves quality time. he hates being touched by anyone else that isn’t you. you’d spent two years learning all of this, loving all of this – you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t think. you fucked up.

your phone was ringing, buzzing in your purse, you couldn’t answer it. you couldn’t even reach for it. 

“hey yun, yeah we’re taking her home, i don’t know she hasn’t said a word. okay, meet us there,” wooyoung’s voice felt so far away, you could’ve sworn he was right next to you.

you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up. 

i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.

perm tags @chimivx 😙

[duhshereadz]

More Arcane head cannons because I can’t stop:

---

Jinx (Powder)

- She has a habit of giving her bombs cute names, like “Boomy” or “Snappy,” and talks to them as if they’re her friends.

- She bites her nails so much that she paints them just to make herself stop, but the paint usually gets chipped after a day.

- She doodles all over her arms when she’s bored, even though she knows it’ll smudge.

- Jinx absolutely hates vegetables, but she’ll eat them if you lie and call them “explosion fuel.”

- She has a surprising knack for sewing and will patch up her stuffed toys obsessively.

- She hums offbeat, made-up songs when tinkering, and sometimes they turn into actual catchy tunes.

- Jinx would totally put googly eyes on her weapons for no reason other than to make herself laugh.

- She hoards random shiny objects and insists they’ll be “important later,” even if it’s just a bottle cap.

- She’s constantly barefoot because she hates the feeling of shoes.

---

Vi

- Vi makes terrible coffee but drinks it anyway because she’s convinced it gives her “character.”

- She’s surprisingly superstitious and always knocks on wood when she feels like she’s jinxed something.

- Vi collects random keychains from places she visits and hangs them all over her belt like trophies.

- She pretends not to care about her hair, but she secretly spends time making sure it’s styled just the right amount of messy.

- She gives people nicknames that have nothing to do with their real name.

- Vi can’t whistle, and it drives her nuts when others do it effortlessly.

- She’s an amazing dancer but will only admit it when she’s had a few drinks.

- Vi always takes up too much space on couches, sprawling across them without a care.

- She secretly loves fluffy, cozy blankets and has a stash of them in her room.

---

Caitlyn Kiramman

- Caitlyn cannot function without a proper breakfast, and she gets cranky if she misses it.

- She’s weirdly good at chess, but she plays so competitively that no one likes going up against her.

- Caitlyn absolutely has a planner and writes everything in it, even things she doesn’t actually need to remember.

- She’s awful at video games and gets super flustered when she loses, which makes Vi tease her endlessly.

- Caitlyn secretly loves cheesy romance novels but keeps them hidden on a high shelf.

- Her guilty pleasure is eating dessert before dinner when no one is looking.

- Caitlyn’s handwriting is ridiculously neat, but she gets annoyed if anyone compliments it too much.

- She’s terrible at telling jokes, but her deadpan delivery somehow makes them funny anyway.

- Caitlyn refuses to wear mismatched socks—ever. It would ruin her whole day.

---

Jayce Talis

- Jayce is a terrible cook and once managed to burn water, but he insists he’s “just experimental in the kitchen.”

- He talks to himself when working, narrating every step like he’s in a tutorial video.

- Jayce has a stash of energy drinks he tries to keep secret because he knows they’re unhealthy.

- He always takes forever to get ready because he’s obsessed with looking polished, even if he’s just going to his lab.

- Jayce is weirdly good at folding fitted sheets, but he keeps that talent to himself.

- He tries to keep plants in his apartment for “aesthetic reasons,” but they always die within a week.

- Jayce collects notebooks but never fills them out because he “doesn’t want to waste them.”

- He has the worst poker face and can’t lie to save his life.

- Jayce has an elaborate skincare routine and won’t go to bed without following it.

---

Viktor

- Viktor sometimes forgets to eat while working, so he keeps random snacks hidden in his desk drawers.

- He’s the type to re-read books he’s already memorized just because it brings him comfort.

- Viktor hums classical music under his breath when he’s deep in thought.

- He’s absurdly good at mental math and sometimes mutters equations when he’s bored.

- Viktor absolutely talks to his tools and machines, even apologizing to them when they malfunction.

- He hoards broken parts or failed prototypes because he thinks he might use them “someday.”

- He doesn’t drink coffee, preferring tea, but it’s always cold by the time he remembers to drink it.

- Viktor sleeps in the weirdest positions, like half-falling off the bed but somehow comfortable.

- He’s lowkey very sentimental, keeping tiny mementos from his childhood in Zaun.

---

Silco

- Silco keeps his surroundings ridiculously neat and loses his temper if anything is out of place.

- He’s surprisingly good at card games but gets irritated when people accuse him of cheating.

- Silco never, *ever* lets anyone touch his chair in the office. It’s his throne.

- He prefers bitter drinks and thinks anything sweet is “a waste of time.”

- He secretly practices his speeches in front of a mirror to make sure he sounds menacing enough.

- Silco keeps a journal, but it’s filled with cryptic notes that only make sense to him.

- He absolutely hates bright colors and insists on everything being muted or dark-toned.

- Silco’s a night owl who rarely sleeps, and when he does, he can fall asleep sitting up.

- He secretly enjoys playing mind games just to see how long people take to figure it out.

---

Ekko

- Ekko is the type to doodle on absolutely everything, from walls to random scraps of paper.

- He always carries a deck of playing cards with him, and he’s amazing at sleight-of-hand tricks.

- Ekko has a sweet tooth and will go out of his way for pastries or candy.

- He has an old, beat-up notebook full of his plans and ideas, but it’s barely legible to anyone else.

- Ekko’s ridiculously good at climbing, treating it like a sport even when he doesn’t need to.

- He likes making little gadgets just for fun, like wind-up toys or tiny flashlights.

- Ekko is a surprisingly good dancer, but he only busts out moves when the mood strikes.

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | part two ->

📻 tracks: 01 - 07

6,246 words // my blog is 18+ // please see the masterlist for warnings - this chapter contains mentions of alcohol, weed, vomit, nausea, and brief mentions of homophobia and cheating

There’s something grotesquely satisfying about the sound her converse make as they cross the tiled floor of a kitchen fit for a house on Cornwallis street. Meaning, one that isn’t chipped, dulled, or old and wise beyond its years like the tile in her kitchen.

Though oddly satisfying, she has absolutely no desire to know what sort of substances have combined to make the sticky floor so, well, sticky, instead choosing to focus solely on the nice way her head sort of vibrates and how maybe if she’s really really nice, Steve will run his hand through her hair.

She hums to herself at the thought as she leans against the counter littered with crinkled solo cups and a punch well past its prime, the wood resting against her hip thumps from the base of the music coming from the dimly lit living room. Bananarama fades into Kim Wilde and her lips twitch, the words of Kids in America leave her mouth under her breath as she starts to make the drink she was sent upstairs for.

📻“…I sit here alone and I wonder why. Friday night and everyone’s moving. I can feel the heat but it’s soothing, heading down.”

It’s interesting that she’s liked almost every song since arriving upstairs, and she wonders who snagged the stereo long enough to change the mix and make such excellent selections when a voice she’s positive rivals angels singing startles her from behind.

“Oh thank god, you passed.”

Robin spins to find the prettiest girl she’s ever seen, truly, honest to god, she thinks it might be a privilege just to get to look at you. She’s only ever had glimpses, brushes with heaven as you wandered down horrendously lit high school hallways and past her at movie theaters or main street, never giving her your full attention as you are now.

There’s this way you smile at her, like you already know her, and that combined with the slip dress and leather jacket you have on is making it really really hard to think a thought other than: wow.

“Wh-“ Her voice fucking cracks, like one of the pubescent twerps that cling to her and Steve and she hates how hot her cheeks are, no doubt the freckles that reside there are now stark against pink skin as she clears her throat. “Sorry, are you…were you talking to me?”

Well, shit, now you’re laughing and it’s the greatest sound she’s ever heard. Right up there with Nena, The Beatles, and Joni crooning out of her speakers when she’s lying on her floor and absorbing their magic. She doesn’t even care that the laugh is more at her than with her, though the way you do it has her thinking it’s actually the latter for once.

“Yeah,” you take a step closer, your hand extended, along with your name offered up. “I’m your new co-worker, or well, you’re mine.”

Robin shakes your hand and tries to remember all the advice Steve has ever told her, most importantly: to breathe. Which is a mistake:

You smell so fucking good.

“Oh my god, I love this color,” your fingers intertwine with Robin’s. They curl underneath hers to hold up her hand for a closer look and you gasp, all cute and perfect and charming, “It sparkles.”

You’re inspecting her nail polish, so dark purple it’s almost black, and Robin clears her throat again.

“Ye-yeah. So, um, what did I…you said I…passed?”

“Oh!” you laugh again, rolling your eyes, “Sorry, I’m always doing that. It’s like I can’t keep up with my own thoughts sometimes, you know? Anyways, yes. You passed.”

“I…what?”

You actually let go of her hand just to press both of yours to her cheeks and she thinks she’s entered some sort of other dimension. Which is, well, not unlikely in Hawkins. Though this situation she finds herself in doesn’t feel all too typical of what normally occurs when that happens. There’s usually more lightening and adrenaline pumping through her veins and everyone is wet-

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

So, maybe? Because she’s sure it might be lightening and there’s definitely something pumping and she’s not wet in the sense that- ookkaay, really panicking now, because, hello? There are a lot of people around and again, this is Hawkins - her neighbors went to school with her parents in this very same town. The prom king works in the mayor’s office.

“I’m…what? You what?” Robin stutters out.

“Every single person Keith has hired has been so horrendously horrible and not a drop of good taste in music in their souls and I just can’t fucking stand to work with someone who will hate my music or I’ll hate theirs another day. And you,” you squeeze her cheeks and you smile that smile again, “My beautiful little angel, passed the test.”

So, yeah, cool, the world is probably ending because as you called her an angel she could smell strawberries on your breath. It somehow works with the brown sugar and coconut she can smell on your skin and she prays it lingers on her own as your hands drop and you point to the items in her hands.

“I watched you pour that. Lemonade and whiskey? Is it good?”

“I… d’ya wanna try it?” Robin offers it up to you, happy to finally find some sort of motor skills working.

Your fingers bump hers again as you take the cup and sip from it.

“I’m…I’m Robin, by the way,” she offers as you swallow.

Your smile dazzles her, so much so, she’s sure she’s got spots in her vision. Your tongue licks out over a plush bottom lip to catch stray lemonade.

“Yeah, I know,” you tease, “Oh hold on…you’ve got…”

Your hand reaches up as you take a step closer, then closer. The tips of your high heels tap the white toe of her converse as your fingers reach up to her face. You’re so close she could count each eyelash if she wanted to, can see blue sparkle and shimmer on your eyelids, can now tell the source of the smell of strawberry is not from your breath, but your glossy lips. They part as your fingers gingerly brush against her cheek, lemonade and whiskey mixing with the strawberry and having a very dizzying affect.

And then you hold your fingers up to her mouth and say:

“Eyelash. Make a wish.”

Robin blinks at you, her stomach the new home to what quite literally might be a billion butterflies.

Your eyebrows raise expectantly, beautiful eyes meeting her gaze before they dart down to her mouth when she blows the eyelash off of your finger tips.

A sigh leaves your body, and then the sound of your throat being cleared right after, as you take a step back when your name is called from the other room - all rowdy and testosterone filled and not at all how your name should be called. Not if she had anything to do with it, anyways.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” Your smile hesitant and voice a little full of what Robin is wishfully thinking is hope.

Robin nods, unsure her voice will work anymore.

“Thanks for the drink…can’t wait to see your mixology skills in the daylight, Buckley” you sing as you twirl away with a glimmer in your eyes and a smirk on your lips before you shout into the next room, “You hollered, dear?”

Your dress swishes just below your ass as you walk away, and that’s when she decides that all that karma and shit people are talking about is true and she is in another dimension and it just might be heaven.

She fumbles with the door handle to the basement, and each limb feels heavier and heavier the further she sinks into the basement.

Eddie’s head dangles off of the edge of the couch to see who it is, brown waves cascading to almost the floor while an unlit cigarette is held tightly between his lips.

“Good lord, took you long enough.” He rolls his eyes as she removes the cigarette from his mouth and pockets it.

A clatter comes from her left then, balls scattering across green felt, then the other’s voice exaggerates, “Are you shitting me? You were gone for an hour and you didn’t bring down my drink.”

Robin continues to walk towards the chair she had been trying to absorb into before heading upstairs, fingers tingling and eyes wide.

Eddie sits up, narrowed eyes and a tense jaw, ever the protector on alert from the state she’s returning in after being around the douchebags that make up most of Hawkins.

“Why are you so quiet? What happened?”

Robin’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“Oh my god, she’s broken,” Steve jokes, though his eyes convey his actual worry. He’s always fucking worried.

Eddie hops off of the couch with ease and the grace of a fresh baby deer and quickly makes his way to directly in front of her. His hands rest on his knees as he squats to get on her level.

“Hey,” his tone serious until she looks into his eyes. His lips twist in that way she knows means he’s about to say something stupid. “Did something cute walk by upstairs?”

Steve rolls his eyes and leans down towards the pool table again, muttering under his breath, “Forgets my drink because of a girl she’s never going to talk to-“

“For your information shitbird,” Robin’s voice discovered again through spite, “I did talk to her, and I didn’t forget your drink, she took it, and yes, she is very cute, more than cute, she’s-“

Eddie claps his hands in front of her to get her attention again, making her mouth clamp shut and her shoulders rise.

“Who?”

Robin says your name and the boys exchange a look.

The look.

The one that they always share when she gets a new crush and it’s obviously a bad idea and they’re seeing into their futures. Seeing their looming fate of pulling a red-rim eyed and sniffly nosed Robin out of her bed and removing the needle from the Nat King Cole record on its twentieth rotation before force feeding her milkshakes till she’s sick, but closer to her normal, pre-crush state.

Again.

“Robs…” Steve starts.

“Listen, I know, okay,” she interrupts. “But, like, I swear she was flirting. I couldn’t have been imagining it. I couldn’t have been.”

Eddie sits back onto the frayed couch, leaning forward and rummaging around in his metal lunchbox as he says, “Explain.”

She tells them everything.

Eddie’s now blowing smoke towards the ceiling and letting a low whistle out with a small chuckle.

Steve’s standing in the bitchiest stance she’s seen from him yet. A cocked hip and arms crossed and a frown on his face.

“She…I taught her that! That eyelash thing is my move!”

“I know!” Robin yells excitedly.

But her face falls when Steve’s features pinch.

“Robin…”

He hesitates and she sighs, collapsing back into her chair.

“Spit it out, dingus.”

Steve sits on the edge of the pool table and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at her with those stupid, sad, Steve eyes that make her unable to hate him even if she wanted to.

“She likes guys,” he says it simply, apologetically, and quietly.

Robin’s stomach rolls, the butterflies long gone at the thought of you in the back of his car doing stuff she’d never get to do with you, even if you did like girls. Thoughts of you kissing half the guys in Hawkins clouding her vision - that’s why the room is getting so blurry, no other reasons.

“Right…” she says, limply, and just as quiet.

Girls like you don’t like girls like Robin, it’s as simple as that.

“I’ll…maybe she changed her mind? That happens. Or maybe…maybe…” Steve hesitates then stands, “Drink? Something with a cherry?”

“Make it twenty.”

A thumb swipes over her forehead she can feel sweating under its touch, tender and soothing.

“Why…” her voice too hoarse to keep going plus the taste of cherries left in the sun for too long - sour and something that lingers and is distinctly bad - on her breath makes her stomach churn.

She forces her eyelids open to see a blue swoosh and a too white for them being used so much sneaker in front of her eyes.

The blue swoosh swooshes and her stomach spins, so her eyes squeeze shut.

She moans.

“Yeah,” he brushes a curl behind her ear as she realizes the hard floor underneath her is extremely cold and did she mention hard. “I’m gonna need some clarification on that why. Why are you on the floor in my bathroom? Or is it a more rhetorical and philosophical why like the ones you were asking me last night?”

Flashes of a moment in this very room, her hair clinging to her damp cheeks as she asked Steve why girls couldn’t like girls and he looked at her so heartbroken and then caught her hair as she heaved something bright red into the toilet the top of her head is now pressed to the base of.

She squints open her eyes again, looking up at the boy now looking out his bathroom door, through his room, and at his window with a small smile on his face.

“How are you using words like rhetorical and philosophical correctly this early after last night?”

Steve turns his attention back to her, he shrugs his shoulders.

“Guess those college courses really know what they’re doing, huh? Plus, I only had two,” he holds up his fingers just in case she forgot what that number means, “Cherrybombs. You had about seven I think.”

But then she hears the voice, the one that’s just beyond Steve’s open bedroom window in her own room, singing about sailors loving a girl named Brandy almost as much as they love the sea.

“Ohh,” she laughs, scrunching her eyes closed and turning her forehead into the makeshift towel pillow he must have thrown under her head at some point. “That’s why. Your girlfriend’s home for the Summer finally.”

“Quit it. You know she’s not my-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just your best friend. Just as platonic as me,” she starts to sit up.

“Exactly-“

“The girl you confessed you liked in a bathroom a little bit like this.”

Steve frowns at her, but then quickly looks at the window, the song almost over.

“I gotta go, but you can stay here and take a nap on my bed, get cleaned up, and then head home. We’re gonna…”

He trails off when she nods, swollen eyes hidden behind the heels of her palms and her voice comes out too hoarse and emotional for her liking.

“Right, right, I forgot about your tradition. I’ll get out of your perfectly styled hair. Looks good today.”

“Robin…” Steve hesitates. He looks at his window, then back at her with a smile, though a bit forced, his tone doesn’t leave room for argument, “You’re staying. It’ll be fine. A pool day is just what you need, plus, maybe you can get some advice from someone who isn’t me. But I gotta go, I did this whole…”

She waves him off, but grabs his wrist as he starts to get up, offering a quiet but genuine, “Thanks Steve.”

He kisses the top of her head and then grimaces, “Please shower, you smell like whiskey and cherries, and not in a good way.”

📻“I wouldn’t if I were you, I know what she can do. She’s deadly, man, she could really rip your world apart.”

Steve’s soul mate, the very much not platonic one (though that seems to be only clear to everyone but the two of them), slides her sunglasses up onto her head and looks at Robin. Eyes wide and eyebrows high on her forehead.

“She what?!”

Robin just finished the eyelash story. Again. She’s sensing a pattern with the reactions to it.

“I know,” Robin groans, her fingers drift lazily in the pool, doing nothing to cool her heated skin at the thought of your fingers touching her cheek. “It was…”

“Swoonable?” The love of Steve’s life grins in a way that’s all knowing and smitten herself and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve sighs from the other side of her.

“Yeah,” Robin clears her throat, adjusting her legs and wincing as they squeak against the inflatable tube, “That’s one word for it.”

Robin frowns and looks up at the lilac tree near the end of the pool pessimistically. “But it doesn’t matter, because she likes guys.”

Steve smiles softly, sadly, at her, at least his pity filled eyes are hidden under dark Ray Bans.

“But…what if…” the thought trails off from un-platonic soul mate’s lips before her bottom one tugs between her teeth and she sits up in her tube more, water dripping and clinging to her skin exposed in the red bikini she has on that’s honestly criminal.

Steve shifts in his own tube, then stares at the sky.

Poor guy.

The temptress Steve’s now clearly avoiding looking at shrugs her shoulders.

“What if she likes both?”

Robin squints at her before she asks, “What?”

“What if she likes guys and girls. That’s a thing.”

“It is?” Steve asks at the same time Robin asks, “You really think so?”

“Oh my gosh, we really need to get you two out of Hawkins,” she says with a laugh.

Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve’s face falls, and she’s fairly certain the love of his life doesn’t either.

The sunglasses slide back over her eyes as she looks at Robin, speaking quietly, “Seriously, come visit me in New York. We’ll go out.” Then a bit louder as she lays her head back on the pool float, “But, for now, I say don’t rule her out. Steve and I can come over during a break or something and help you figure it out. It’ll be great, okay?”

Robin squeezes her hand.

She hopes Steve’s future wife is right.

📻“I wanna shine like the sun. I wanna be the one that you want to see. I wanna knit you a sweater, wanna write you a love letter. I wanna make you feel better, I wanna make you feel free.”

Honey and vanilla float through the air, each scent mixing with brown sugar and something coconutty every so often - seventy six seconds kind of often, not that she’s counting - whenever the fan blows just right.

It’s dizzying, the smells mingling with the sound of your voice singing quietly along to a variety of records. Only broken up occasionally by a soft curse word and a thump, or a bubbly “Welcome into Holland’s! Let me know if I can help you find anything - I know right? It’s the “Don’t Bee Cruel” Robin cooked up today. You should absolutely go get one, I’ve had like twenty.”

You’ve had two.

But each time your shoulders relaxed on your first sip, your hand squeezed her upper arm in excitement.

“Holy shit, Robs.”

Robs.

She honestly hasn’t let anyone ever call her that except Steve, but she doesn’t hate it when it’s coming out of your lips. One’s that are glossy and pink and smell like strawberries again.

You lean on the counter as she works on making you a third drink, talking excitedly in an overly caffeinated craze, “God, this is gonna be so awesome. If you make a themed drink each week around our sales and you’re pretty creative right? Took art classes a bunch? We could paint on the windows or I’ve been trying to get Keith to let me get some different lighting and paint on the ceiling tiles…hold on-“

Robin’s hand stalls with the drink she’s handing over in what she’s already determined to be your favorite mug - lavender colored, as big as a cereal bowl, with little daisies painted on it.

But your hand grabs her other one across the wood countertop with a gasp.

“You got rid of the purple?!”

Her cheeks warm at your touch, the way your fingers curl around hers and the way your lips pout, jutted out and begging to be kissed.

“Oh, um, yeah. I usually change them every few days. I’m sort of obsessed with matching them to my clothes or my mood or just because I chip them so much as like a super bad nervous habit so I…”

She trails off, remembering to breathe and to also not spit every thought out, because most people don’t care and have already tuned out, but you’re still listening, eyes watching her.

“So you…?” You ask, still holding her hand.

“Change them. A lot,” Robin finishes, lamely.

But you just nod, inspecting the new color. They’re blue, but not bright blue, almost gray. Melancholy. Yearning. Hungover again. Crabby, like a storm cloud hanging over her head.

Your finger brushes over a nail as you take the mug from her other hand, your brows furrowed together and head tilting quizzically as you ask, “You’re sad?”

Shit.

“Um,” Robin flexes her hands as she lets it slip from yours and shrugs, “I guess maybe I was when I painted them? I had on Joni Mitchell, maybe that rubbed off on my color decision.”

Smooth, Buckley.

A smile before you take a sip, like you get it, then a hum that’s searching, thinking, leaving your pursed lips. Foam rests on your top one as you ask, “What would you paint them now?”

“Pink,” she says it softly, without thinking, staring at your mouth. “I have one that’s not pink pink, a little shimmer in it, like flecks of red or gold or something.”

“Pretty,” you murmur.

Robin hums and then looks away, clearing her throat as she gestures to your mouth, “You have, um-“

You laugh, embarrassed, before you swipe at your lips and then tilt your head up for her to examine, “Did I get it?”

“It…” Robin begs her hand not to shake as it lifts, thumb swiping over the corner of your lips and lingering as she says even softer, “There.”

A sigh leaves you, not unlike the one you let slip at the party on Friday night, and for a brief and magical moment, Robin’s fingers are still curled under your jaw, her thumb against your lip and both of you aren’t breathing she’s pretty sure, and she’s not looking at your eyes because she’s still looking at your lips, but if she happened to glance up, she’d find you looking at hers too.

But a customer calls for help, and the moment is over.

Robin is sure your face looks disappointed to go.

She’s sure she can’t be crazy.

That she’s not imagining this.

Which is what she’s telling Steve over a milkshake and turkey burger.

She smacks his fingers as they reach across the table.

“Quit it. Onion rings are for friends who offer advice.”

Ever the athlete, Steve sees her defense and sets a play in action. Waiting for his opening in the scuffle, his other hand yanks one free seamlessly.

He grins as he bites into it, speaking around the too hot onion and fried dough lolling around in his mouth, “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout. I gab you advise.”

Her nose scrunches.

“Close your mouth, heathen.” She swirls her whipped cream down further into the untouched shake. “And ‘just do it’ isn’t advice, it’s a shitty sneaker slogan.” Steve rolls his eyes as she takes a breath, only getting started, “And might I add, pretty hypocritical when it’s coming from the man who quite literally won’t do it.”

“Oh,” Steve swallows, he slurps a giant sip of cold coke before he smacks his lips together. “I assure you, I’m doing it all the time.”

The idiot literally winks. Robin’s eyes narrow.

“How are we friends?”

Steve snaps and points at her.

“That’s it. That’s the advice.”

Robin blinks at Steve, who goes to take a bite of his own burger, like that’s all he’s going to say on the matter.

She throws a straw wrapper at his nose.

“Don’t act like I know what that means! And don’t you dare speak with burger in your mouth.”

Steve rolls his eyes and licks ketchup from his finger and makes a big show of chewing then swallowing.

“Do you even know if you like…” he trails off when two idiots in letterman jackets walk by, then sit right behind them, so he turns his head to the ceiling and finishes, far quieter, “Froot Loops? The cereal?”

Robin’s turn to roll her eyes. “What?”

“I love cereal,” Steve places a hand on his chest, still speaking in a hushed tone, “But it took me awhile to find the right kind of cereal. I had to shop around.”

“You know I can’t really shop for cereal in Hawkins, dingus.”

“Right, but you already know what kind of cereal you like. Fruity.”

Robin rolls her eyes again. Steve keeps going.

“The question is, there’s a whole lot of fruit related cereals out there. Pebbles. Loops. That crunchy granola kind with the chunks of fruit in it.”

“Please tell me you’re arriving at a point here soon?”

“This new…brand,” Steve winces, squinting his eyes as he tries to round to home plate with this metaphor, “Could be a kind of fruity cereal you don’t even like. Sure the box’s got pretty colors and a snazzy logo, but do you really like the taste of it?”

“Did you just say snazzy?”

Steve holds his burger up to his lips and shrugs.

But she think on what he’s getting at, and it’s a shock to her, truly it is, when what he’s saying sinks in and makes one hundred percent sense.

“I need to…find out more…about this…cereal?” Robin asks, softly, clarifying.

Steve nods, takes another large bite of his burger and shoves it in his cheek, “Take it out of the bag and really look at it, taste it, figure out what kind of bowl it looks best in-“

“I got it.”

Steve nods to her plate.

“I get an onion ring now, right?”

📻“Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she wonderful?”

Turns out, getting to know if she actually likes this cereal is easy. Easy like her Steve cereal. Easy like Eddie O’s.

You’re excited to tell her about your favorite foods and colors, pet peeves and subjects you struggled with in school. Your dreams for your future and everything in between.

The problem is, Robin is not the only one who wants to take cereal you off the shelf to bring home.

A fact she already knew, but ever present and creating a growing gaping giant canyon between her and you. The name of said canyon?

She’s Not Into Girls, Buckley, And You’re Only Going To Get Hurt - Get Out While You Can, Fairly Unscathed.

It’s a working title.

But the thing is, no matter how large the canyon becomes, there’s you, building up the rock and making a path to cross it. Though wobbly, and thin, and signs urging her to make sure she’s prepared for the tumultuous journey - it’s crossable. It’s there.

One minute you’re laughing with a guy who’s got swoopy Steve Harrington like hair, squeezing a manly bicep and batting your lashes, and the next, you’re grabbing Robin’s cheeks or booping her nose telling her how obsessed you are with her. The more days she spends with you, the words “what if she likes both” float through her brain, lay anchor and remain solidly at the forefront of her thoughts.

She could work with liking both.

At least she thought she could, until this morning.

Robin never showed up to Scoops early. Largely in part because of the Steve Harrington of it all - until she started to find him not so bad and realized she could laugh and goof off with the idiot who stole her first real crush. But even when her and Steve started to get along, Scoops Ahoy filled her with a mountain of dread, knowing she’d have to face another day of mundane tasks, sickly sweet ice cream that somehow smelled horrendous on her clothes and hair after a shift, rude customers and unpaying sampling tweens.

But Holland’s was different. There was you, of course, but there was also the promise of music that didn’t suck and remind her of pirates. Coffee and pastries. Calm customers who wandered the aisles and hummed along to songs they knew but couldn’t quite recall the lyrics. People who lingered in the coffee shop and read their newspapers or books despite it being Summer.

She liked the quiet of the start of the mornings here too.

You weren’t a morning person like her, and she enjoyed watching you blink tired eyes at her as she wandered in and the way your smile was sweet but sleepy. Sometimes you’d yawn and your shirt would lift a little as you stretched. Her favorite part was when she’d slide a steaming mug over to you and you’d start to come to life after a few sips. The way you’d always close your eyes as the record player’s scratch would crackle out of the speakers, the soft thud of the needle meeting vinyl, and then quiet instruments and music would fill the store. And by the end of your drink, the record’d be just finishing and you’d put on something much more upbeat, you’d start chatting with her, and-

Okay, so maybe like ninety percent of the reason she comes early is because of you.

This morning however, the shop windows are still dark and you’re nowhere to be found. Robin frowns at her reflection in the door as she searches her backpack for her key she’s never needed to use.

The metal tumblers click as it unlocks, the faint chime trills as she pushes open the door. She flicks on light switches as she passes to the back of the store where her coffee counter rests.

Every step of turning on machines, measuring out scoops of freshly ground coffee for the first pot of drip, putting away clean dishes left to dry the day before are all interrupted after a few seconds by glances up at the front door.

Each tick of the clock pushing closer and closer to eight only makes her frown deepen, until she sees you hurriedly walking up the sidewalk. Her shoulders relaxing as you enter until she sees the look on your face.

You’re brushing under your eyes, keeping your head down as you drop your things behind your desk at the front of the store.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse and you clear it and fumble with the cash register and continue, “I’m late.”

“I won’t tell,” Robin tries to joke but your sleepy smile is less sleep and more on the verge of ‘I’m just trying not to cry right now’, so she starts making you a drink immediately.

“Ha-ha,” you sniffle and start on all of your morning tasks but without turning on a record.

Robin feels like this is an emergency now, because while she doesn’t know you completely, she knows that for someone like you to not turn on music, things have got to be pretty bad. You seem like the kind of person that falls into an album like her when she’s sad - and the only time she can’t do that is when her feelings are too big, too strong, that not even the shared pain or understanding struggling artists lend with their lyrics and art is enough.

She holds your favorite mug in her hands full of cocoa and marshmallow and cinnamon and she hesitates as she rounds her counter, watching you frown at a clipboard. But she takes another step then another until she’s in front of you and sliding it across handmade posters and signs taped to the wood tabletop encouraging guitar lessons, new releases, and a sign up for a battle of the bands at the Summer carnival.

“Everything okay?” She asks softly.

Your face is still tilted down towards the mug, but she watches your chin wobble as you let out a shaky exhale.

When you look up, your normally bright eyes are muted in their color, glassy as you point to the mug and don’t answer her question but instead say, “This smells so fucking good.”

Robin smiles, lingering next to the counter as she lets her fingers trail over some of the used vinyl up front because it’s on sale, eyes on her converse that are littered with doodles as they shuffle her weight, unable to sit still while she wonders who’s made you so upset and how can she fix it.

“I…” you cut yourself off as you swallow a big sip, eyelids fluttering as you lean forward on the counter, hands cradling the mug. You keep your gaze on it as you shake your head back and forth slowly, contemplating something. Finally you look up at her and she swears all the air leaves her lungs when she asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Robin just shakes her head no, gaze returning to the records, spinning one of her rings around on her finger as you keep talking.

“I don’t either, well, I did, when we met at that party I did.” You come over to where she is, abandoning the coffee so you can flip through the stack next to her. Your shoulder brushes hers with every movement through the stack and Robin takes a deep calming breath as you continue softly, “He was an asshole. Still is.”

You spin around, crossing your arms as you lean against the table and mutter, “God he was a good kisser though. Good lips. Better hands, you know how it is and I just…”

She’s gonna throw up, right here on the vinyl.

Your fingers rub at your temple as you laugh, coldly, “I fall for it every time. Every time I break up with a guy and I go on some other dates and he comes crawling back, begging for another chance, and I give it to him and then it all blows up in my face. Every single time.”

Your voice wavers and your chin ducks to your chest, the strap of your baby blue sun dress slips down your shoulder as you sigh then confess, “I caught him cheating. Again. Making out with Grace Roberts. Right out in the open at the diner. I…” you laugh and lean your head on her shoulder as you admit, “I dumped a strawberry milkshake on his head.”

“Good,” she says, miraculously able to speak with no air in her lungs, “Though a guy who’s stupid enough to lose you deserves something far nastier and harder to get out than a shake in my opinion.”

Your head lifts as she says it, laughing and mumbling in agreement, “Mm, like gravy. With chunks of meat in it.”

“Exactly,” she says softly, now looking into your eyes.

The conversation is so wildly unromantic, but there’s this energy between you two. Bodies turned opposite directions, facing different walls, yet your heads are turned towards each other, both of you waiting for something tight between you to snap.

Robin doesn’t even think as her fingers slip up your shoulder and fix your strap, pads of them buzzing as they brush along your skin. Her breath hitches as she watches goosebumps rise to the surface in their wake. Your eyelashes flutter together, your chest seems to move up and down with extended time between each rise and fall, like it’s taking more of your focus and energy to take deeper breaths.

The tick of the clock feels like it’s counting down to something she doesn’t know what. You look at her hand still on your shoulder and swallow, loud enough between the lack of distance between your faces. Voice soft because it can be as you murmur, “Your nails look like a Stevie Wonder album cover.”

Robin glances down at the burnt orange with red sparkles as the thundering of her heart makes her feel like she might pass out. She painted them last night, after her shift with you where you sang loudly along to Stevie and twirled around the shop and sang into her whisk at one point.

She flexes her hand against your strap and let’s it fall, her knuckles trailing down, grazing your arm as she pulls out some of her Steve Harrington charm lessons from a scrambled egg of a brain and asks, “Yeah? Which one?”

You shiver at the question, following her fingers before your gaze lands on her mouth. Your lips part as your head tilts while you think. She watches your hand twitch next to hers now resting next to it on the box of records as you say, “The one with…”

Robin thinks she’s dreaming as you trail off and lean closer, eyes still on her lips as you whisper, “Isn’t She Lovely…”

Then, in the time it takes her to blink, it’s all over. There’s a chime above the door, you jump at the noise and stand up too straight, creating distance between the two of you like none of it ever happened.

But it did happen.

What if she likes both.

[courtillyy]

i had forgotten how Good the s10 finale of greys is,,, like the meredith and derek fight !! the maggie reveal !! the focus and love of cristina !!! <333

[larabar]

"so, that was fun"

[honeybard]

adhd advice will be like people with adhd struggle to get their thoughts organised. also to get diagnosed you need to get your thoughts on why you have adhd organised in advance in order to convince the doctor you have it

[gingerbreadmonsters]

its so important to me that you know how much ive already cried over this wip and its literally only been two days

[rosesradio]

.

[amphibifish]

i'm having one of those moments where it's like. i don't know what i'm gonna end up pursuing in my adult life. i love art and i love marine biology but a part of me feels like my aspiration to pursue marine biology realky was just something i've been trying to tell myself for years because i've been taught to see art as not a real career. i feel like i'm going to fall behind in my 2d art as i skipped out on art honors for next year in place of a theatre class my school offers but i don't feel like i'll end up being an actor. i dunno what i'm gonna do in life. i gues you could say i'm just looking for my purpose. sorry i only know how to cope through avenue q references.

[iniquitousyearning]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

[tathrin]

@the-smartass-under-the-mountain oh that is fantastic yes. It sounds to me like you have a story to write! (please?)

#either version would be amazing! #and theres always that one elf/dwarf whose brain work opposite #like an elf that does need everything in An Assigned Place bc memory is for Songs ans Genealogy not Hammer Location #and they end up getting along with the dwarf smiths better bc FINALLY someone understands that the tongs live on the 2nd shelf #or the dwarf that works seamlessly with elves bc they can hand off tools to each other without even glancing up from their work

A thought on Elves and Dwarves (as inspired by my roommate and I and the one place where our brains really don't line up):

Elves with perfect memories, who know exactly where they put that thingamajig even when they last set it down twenty years ago, and thus can always find whatever it is they're looking for amidst what looks like total disarray to everybody else.

Dwarves with perfectly ordered spatial awareness, who are so accustomed to the layout of their workshop or forge that they can lay their hands on any tool in there without even looking, and always set everything back where it belongs out of ingrained habit.

Elves who never ever put things back where they belong, because "put that away neatly so you can find it again" is simply not a concept that exists in elvish minds, because it doesn't need to.

Dwarves who will look right past the thing they're looking for if it's not where it belongs, because it's not where it belongs, why isn't it where it belongs, where did you put it you daft elf...?

Elves and Dwarves in the smithies of Ost-in-Edhil, ready to go to war over the arrangement of their tools, and Celebrimbor on the brink of tears desperately trying to keep the peace here that he never managed to in Nargothrond.

(alt: could easily be done the other way around too, with elves always putting things away because then the thing is always where it's supposed to be, even twenty years later, so you can find it again, because they have so many more important things to hold in their memories than where they last put down their favorite hammer, and after a few hundred years you fall into the habit of expecting things to be where they belong so you don't even look to find them somewhere else; and dwarves who have such an innate sense of their tools and their workspace that they don't need to have "proper places" to put things away, because of course they remember where they put their hammer, what kind of a question is that, can't you just feel where your hammer is wtf???)

[yuujispinkhair]

Boxer!Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask. Thank you so much for sending me that and making me lose my mind over Boxer!Sukuna.

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, modern AU, smut, squirting. Mentions of boxing injuries, biting, blood. I know that boxers usually wear a groin protector, but I chose to ignore this for this AU because I wanted to write a sexy detail lol. Sukuna + Reader are in a relationship. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always wants you by his side backstage until it's time for him to enter the arena. You are his good luck charm and the only one who is allowed to wrap the bandages around his hands before he slips into his gloves. Not that he needs any luck with the skills he has, but he loves seeing you press your sweet kisses on his boxing gloves and smile at him before you hug him tightly and tell him to please be careful.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gets a warm feeling in his heart when he sees how worried you always are. Much more nervous before his fights than he is. But he always reassures you, wrapping his muscular tattooed arms tightly around you and hugging you to his firm body while he tells you, "Don't worry, princess. You know I never lose."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who smiles while you help him get dressed before a fight, helping him slip into the white silk kimono he wears for his ring entrance show. He can clear his mind the best when he feels your gentle hands caressing over his broad back.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gives you his most charming smile before he grabs your chin and asks you for a good luck kiss, not just on his boxing gloves but also on his lips.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always tells you he loves you before he leaves the backstage area. And hearing your "I love you, too" in return gives him another surge of motivation.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose ring-entrance show always makes the crowd go wild. The whole arena is bathed in blood-red light. A picture of an ancient shrine in a sea of blood gets projected onto the large screens. Dramatic classical music starts playing as a huge throne of skulls emerges from the fog, with Sukuna lounging casually on it, his head resting on the back of his hand. He's wearing the snow-white kimono and a crown on his pink hair, presenting himself as The King of Curses, which is his stage name.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose stage name fits him perfectly. One look at him and his powerful body and that dangerous and ambitious glint in his eyes, and everyone knows this guy is truly a King in the boxing ring.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gracefully walks towards the ring with an arrogant look on his tattooed face, only accompanied by his assistant Uraume, who walks a few steps behind him as if they are a loyal shrine servant who follows their master obediently. They take off Sukuna's kimono for him and bow respectfully while the crowd cheers loudly.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks intimidating but beautiful as he stands there with a posture like a God while the white silk slips off his broad shoulders and reveals all the firm muscles and the sexy tattoos on his tall, athletic body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who drops his serious act the moment he climbs into the ring and instead smirks his most charming smirk and lifts a hand to casually wave at his fans, letting them celebrate him as if he already won.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose last glance before every match belongs to you, though. As much as he enjoys the attention and worship from his fans, he always loves your gaze on him the most. You are the one who grounds him before a fight, the one who gives him the strength and the right mindset to lead him to victory.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes look directly into yours while he kisses his boxing gloves, at the same spot where your lips left their kisses a few minutes ago backstage. And right before he turns around to face the referee and his opponent, he winks at you and mouths, "I'll win this fight for you, baby".

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who already mocks his opponent before the fight even starts. Smiling tauntingly at him and asking him if he is scared. "You know, you can still run, little boy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy during his fights. All of his attacks are powerful and well-planned. He moves gracefully through the ring, like a big cat on the prowl, beautiful and deadly. Everyone can see that he isn't someone who just relies on his brute strength. Sukuna is intelligent, and he uses his mind to win his fights.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is both hated and loved by the judges. They hate how cocky he is but admire his skills and respect him for how well-prepared he is for his matches.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wins most of his fights with a knockout, laughing triumphantly when the referee counts down the seconds.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who only loses fights when he gets disqualified for committing a foul. Sometimes, he bites his opponents, drawing blood with his sharp teeth and laughing as he licks the blood off his lips. You know that this is also part of Sukuna's strategy. He is too controlled to let himself get carried away during a fight, but he loves the reputation those bloody attacks give him, basking in the fear he sees in his opponents' eyes when he whispers to them before a fight, "Did you see the guy I bit last month? Let's see how your blood tastes on my tongue."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is brilliant at blocking punches but also cannot be stopped if he gets hit. You used to be worried sick when you saw him receiving blows to the head until Sukuna reassured you that he is allowing it on purpose. It's all for the show. And sometimes, because he craves the pain since, it will spur him on even more.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who laughs after every punch his opponent lands, smirking cat-like as he licks the blood off his cracked lip, and his wild maroon eyes glitter amusedly at the other guy: "Aww, was that all you can do, brat? Gimme more, come on! Punch me! Make me bleed for real, you coward!"

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy with his tattooed skin all sweaty, every muscle in his tall, strong body taut. His veins standing out, and his broad chest rising and sinking as he breathes deeply. The outline of his long, thick cock visible through his dark red boxing shorts, making you want him so much.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wears a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face when he gets declared winner. He looks deeply into your eyes when the referee yanks his hand into the air to signal his win. This first moment is always for you alone, mesmerizing maroon eyes silently telling you that Sukuna dedicates this win to you.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who then punches his fist into the air and does a little round in the ring to let the crowd celebrate him like the King that he is. He is a professional, giving his fans what they crave, even while he craves something very different at that moment after a match.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who expects you to wait for him in his private locker room backstage, naked and wet, with your legs spread, ready to get taken by him.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who takes you rough and hard. He needs to fuck you to come down again after being so pumped up during his fight. His tall, muscular body is still dripping with sweat, smelling so sexy, a mix of sweat and musk and his expensive cologne. His breath is loud and harsh in your ear, turning into low, hoarse groans as he pounds your cunt with his cock and his heavy balls, just like he pounded his opponent with his fists.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who rubs your swollen clit firmly and whispers dirty things in your ear, making sure you give him your everything and squirt all over him when you cum on his fat cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who coos at you and calls you his good girl, his love, as he chases his own orgasm, finally allowing himself to let go, fucking you with hard erratic thrusts, his face buried in your neck, moaning loudly until he captures your lips in a heated kiss when he shoots his hot cum into your cunt.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who cuddles you afterward, pressing himself tightly against you while he is still buried balls-deep inside you, resting his forehead against yours and thanking you for being his lucky charm and the one who gives him strength. He stays like that, pressing you down with his heavy body, kissing you tenderly until his breathing finally calms down and the sweat on his body begins to dry.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who picks you up and murmurs to you, "Hold on to me, princess," before he carries you to the shower, not letting go of you even for a second, needing his princess on his cock and in his arms.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who showers with you and lets you wash him, sighing when you massage shower gel into his taut muscles, caressing him, and cleaning him, easing the tension in his body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who returns the favor and lets his large, calloused hands wander gently over your naked and soaped-up body while he kisses you nonstop. Who caresses another orgasm out of you while you stroke his long thick cock slowly, making him spill his seed all over your hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who isn't the famous boxer, The King of Curses, anymore, when he is here under the shower with you. Here he is just Sukuna, your fiancé, who is joking around with you, all playful again, grinning that sexy grin and kissing you so sweetly, whispering against your skin how much you mean to him, and asking you where you want to have a late dinner tonight.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who fucks you once more, this time against the shower wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips and your hands in his pink hair. But this time, it is slow, sensual lovemaking. Slow, deep thrusts and tender French kisses until you both find completion at the same time and moan into each other's mouth. The perfect finish for a successful match.

HE IS SO SEXY 😭😭 I didn't know I would write so much for Boxer!Sukuna, but I enjoyed it so much to think of his dramatic ring-entrance show and the way he boxes, etc. I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Update: There is a Part 2 now, in which Boxer!Sukuna and Reader have a baby together