#at least give me a third party member

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[misfit0789]

Miserable

Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: R is tired of being left out at work so they talk to Alessia about it.

Word count: ~ 1k words

Warnings: Shitty bosses, other than that none

Just a short one while I work on a couple longer fics.

Y/n POV

"Y/n, I'll see you at the party tomorrow, right? The one we got for finishing that training?" I look up from the report I'm working on to see my supervisor leaning on my desk. I push back my chair and lean back in my seat looking at him.

"I never knew there was a party even happening. I knew there was a possibility of one but not that one was happening," I say confused. He looks at me surprised.

"Really? I'll forward you the invite," He stands and returns to his desk. I roll my chair back to face my computer and open my email waiting for the invite to arrive in my inbox. I refresh the page and open the email once it loads. I scoff lightly when I see the invite was originally sent two weeks ago.

Seriously? This is the third time I've been left off something in two weeks!

"Thanks for sending it over. I was one of the first done with the training I'm confused how I was missed on the invite." I call back to him as my desk cube is in front of him only separated by the divider.

"I'm not sure, but at least you have it now," he says going back to what he was doing. I sigh and go back to the report.

Later that afternoon…

I sat in the last meeting of the day with my supervisor and other team members who are in the office and not remote today. I open my OneNote to capture the notes from today's meeting before looking up as the lead for the meeting begins to speak.

"So, in out meeting from the other day we discussed-" I immediately stop listening when the other meeting is mentioned the notes long forgotten.

I was never in another meeting with these people. I thought this was the first one.

This is getting ridiculous. I have been fere for over a year and I have been left out of almost everything that has to do with this project and yet they expect me to know what is going on. I'm over it.

I sit quietly and patiently wait for the end of the day so I can go home.

Time Skip

"Babe! You're home!" I smile hearing the voice of my girlfriend of five years.

"Hi, my love," I set my computer bag down on the bench by the door and open my arms to catch her as she runs to me from the kitchen. I wrap my arms around her body tucking my head into her neck, as her arms wrap around my neck holding me close to her. I let out a sigh of relief in her arms tightening my hold on her waist. She holds me having a sense that I need this.

"Rough day?" She whispers into the quiet between us. I nod, she turns her head pressing a kiss to my head. "Why don’t you go freshen up, we'll order take out and spend the night in bed. I nod again and reluctantly release her from my hold before moving towards our ensuite to shower and change.

Once I was showered and changed into an old college t shirt and basketball shorts. I walk into our room to see Alessia in an old jersey of mine from when I played softball in high school and a pair of underwear. She is sat leaning against the headboard, bags from my favorite takeout place in front of her, Law and Order SVU queued up on the TV in our room. I slowly move towards my side of the bed before flopping face down into the mattress.

"What happened today, baby? I've never seen you this bad after work," Alessia asks running her fingers through my hair. I take a minute before I turn onto my side, propping my head up on my arm to look up at her.

"Remember how a few weeks ago I told you that the team was told if we completed all the training before the other teams, they'd give us a pizza party?" She nods, "Well apparently we did that and were given the party, which is tomorrow but they sent the original invite two weeks ago. And now there was other meetings besides the one they sent me to today about the project that they have not included me on. I was lost the entire meeting on what they were talking about because it was a continuation of the previous meetings. I have been with this company for over a year, and they have been excluding me from the start! My supervisor is an ass and won't tell me anything, and he seems to be avoiding me at all costs. Anytime I ask anyone on the team a question they act as if talking to me or helping me is some big inconvenience for them. I just can't take it anymore." I proclaim, dropping onto my back. I lay my arms over my eyes and release a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry baby," I feel the shift in the bed as she moves closer before feeling her hand splay across my chest. "This job was only temporary until you had everything together to be able to open the café. It's all about done now, so tomorrow call them and tell them you quit. We have enough savings to work with until we have money coming in from the café. The girls and I will help in any way that we can. There is no sense in you staying somewhere you are miserable," I remove my arms from my face to look at Alessia. When we make eye contact, she offers me a reassuring smile before she leans down to capture my lips in a kiss. I place my hands on her waist and maneuver her to be straddling my hips.

"What would I ever do without you in my life?" I whisper into the air between us once we part. She chuckles and presses another kiss to my lips before answering.

"Probably live a miserable life," I chuckle and nod before wrapping my arms around her, holding her to me as she buries her head in my neck pressing light kisses there. I let out a sigh knowing that things are going to change for the better.

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Gentleman

Rafe Cameron x reader

College AU

Smut, 18+ only

Tw: hazing, prostitution if you squint, me being back from the dead after years

Whoever invented nylon underwear was on your personal hit list after today. You understood it was more for show than for go, but seriously, you’ve never been so uncomfortable in your life. Surrounded by the other pledges, you got yourselves dolled up like strippers to be auctioned off to the campus’ leading fraternity. What the fuck, right? It was “for charity,” but you knew that was just an extreme to cover up this ridiculous hazing process. The idea was that all the pledges had to prance around a basement in lingerie in front of a bunch of douchey frat boys and let them bid on a night with you. If you chickened out or didn’t get high enough bids, you’d be dropped. So here you were, applying a final coat of clear lip gloss before being lined up like horses at auction getting ready for slaughter.

“Alright ladies, look alive!” the sorority president yelled as she jaunted through the makeshift dressing room. “These boys have full pockets and hard cocks, let’s not keep them waiting.” Real classy. And the fact that some of these girls actually seemed excited was beyond you. If your whole future wasn’t relying on getting into this sorority, you’d have been gone a long time ago. But here you were, about to whore yourself out for a chance at your dream.

“Layci, you’re first,” you heard as you and the other livestock – I mean, ladies – lined up by the door in the order that you’d drawn earlier in the day. You were third from last. You assumed the boys would all throw their money on the first bunch of girls, meaning the end of the line would be left to fight over the scraps of what was left. And you knew this fraternity too– had heard their name mentioned on campus a lot. Known for using Daddy’s money to throw expensive parties with VIP lists and endless cocaine, their elite functions were held only at country clubs and private beaches, mansions and yachts. Hopefully that at least meant that whatever pig won your bid would be a two-pump-chump and you could be over and done with this whole thing before midnight.

“Push up those titties and pout those lips,” the president shouted with an evil enthusiasm, “the show is about to begin.” She took one last look at the desperate lineup of girls, adorned in the sluttiest garments they could muster. You shouldn’t think too little of them. After all, you were standing among them. You had your own reasons for being here, so you would give the others the benefit of the doubt too. The president skipped out of the room and to the basement, where the bidding would take place. This was all happening in the fraternity house, or mansion you should say. They had set up lights, speakers, and a runway for the annual event. You heard the president through the microphone from where you stood.

“Welcome, gentlemen, welcome! To the annual Kappa Delta Theta bid night for charity!” You heard a hoard of whooping and clinking of glasses. “Let me just say that tonight’s lineup of young ladies is sure to exceed all expectations. Please use your paddles to place your bids as the ladies walk out. Feel free to use those later tonight, too,” she suggested cheekily, and was met with comments dripping in testosterone and entitlement. “All proceeds will go to Kappa Delta Theta’s charity of choice, the Charlotte Food Pantry, which feeds over one thousand families per week.” Well, at least you could get behind that.

“We ask that you please let us know if your chosen lady does not meet your needs. After all, these girls are still proving themselves as honorary members of the Kappa house.” She went on to say, a subtle warning to the waiting girls. “Once you have won your bid, please make your way to the back room where you will meet your lady and be sent to one of the private rooms in the house. After that, the rest is up to you!” Cheers and hollering followed as the president brought out her list of girls.

“Let me introduce you to lady number one, Layci,” she announced as the lighting dimmed and a spotlight was shown on the curtained entryway. Layci breathed deep and plastered a smile on her face before exiting into the room– a gazelle marching into a hoard of lions. “Layci majors in marketing, and enjoys Sunday football and Bud Light Limes. Let’s start the bid at $100.” You struggled to hear the remainder of the bidding amongst the shouting and music until you heard a “Sold! To Trey Parker for $375.” Trey Parker, Jesus. You were glad he hadn’t bid on you, but felt extremely bad for Layci. He was an obnoxious drunk, known for snorting coke and punching walls when his football team lost. This was going to be a long night.

You attempted to dissociate and drown out the rest of the bidding as the girls filed out one by one, but before you knew it, you were face to face with that daunting curtain. The bidding had seemed to slow down a lot, and the room grew quieter as the boys won their bids and moved on to claim their prizes elsewhere in the house.

“Gentlemen, we only have a few ladies left, so let’s see those wallets! Next up, we have a Pre-Law major who enjoys pina coladas and getting caught in the rain, gentlemen give it up for Y/N!” you mustered up all the courage you had, pushed your bra strap up one final time, and walked into the blinding spotlight. You saw the glares of eyes watching your every step, analyzing your body, your face. Never in your life had you felt so vulnerable. Law school. Law school. You reminded yourself of your goal, and that gave you the courage to plaster on a smile and strut down the walkway. Whistles could be heard, but you ignored them and gave a spin before walking back up.

“Let’s start at $100,” she stated as you waited for the inevitable sting of a low bid. After all, you hadn’t put nearly as much thought into this as some of the girls had. Waxing, laser, facials, nails… all you had done was shaved and shown up. A paddle raised in your line of sight. Shit, was that Tanner Marshall? A cocky boy with a beer gut and entitled attitude, you’d heard rumors of his temper. Multiple women on campus had horror stories about him. Please, God, anyone else. Please not him.

Another paddle raised in the corner of your eye from a boy you hadn’t seen before. “$200,” he said quietly as his eyes raked your frame. He was cute, you wouldn’t lie, but you had no reason to believe he was any better than Tanner Marshall. His blue eyes met yours as he adjusted his backwards baseball hat and leaned forward.

“$350,” said Tanner with a smirk.

“$500,” the mystery boy countered without missing a beat.

“Woah, woah, let’s slow down, boys. There’s still a couple other girls after this,” the sorority president countered.

“$600,” Tanner Marshall forced, growing frustrated at the thought of taking a loss.

“$750,” Mystery Boy added, showing no signs of giving up. The highest bid you heard so far was $800. Did you stand a chance at topping that? If you did, they’d have to let you join for sure. To sweeten the pot, you threw a wink towards Tanner Marshall, as much as it sickened you.

“$900,” he said in a pained voice after seeing your flirtatious act.

A silence followed. Shit, you shouldn’t have done that. Mentally prepping for the most traumatic night of your life, you heard a solid “$1,000” from Mystery Boy. All heads turned to him at this extreme bid.

The sorority president seemed shocked at that, but gathered herself and announced, “One thousand dollars, going once,” please, please God please, “Going twice,” let him win and let him be an ounce kinder than Tanner Marshall, “Sold! To Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe Cameron, you’d heard his name mentioned before on campus but had few details to go off. You locked eyes with him once more before making your way back through the curtain and releasing a large sigh. It was over, but it wasn’t. Now came the tough part. Yes, you’d won the highest bid of the night, but now you had to fulfill it. Would he be aggressive? Would he listen to your pleas to be gentle? Would he fuck you and throw you into the hallway like trash after?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you were herded back to the entryway of the house by one of the sorority sisters. She handed you a strip of condoms and said “Good luck,” before leaving you to wait for Rafe Cameron to show up. The seconds felt like days as you paced in your stripper heels, attempting not to roll an ankle. Footsteps sounded in the distance and got closer. You held your breath as Rafe turned the corner and locked eyes with you once more. He let his gaze fall openly down your body once more and then gestured towards the stairs with a smirk. “Shall we?”

The trek to your private room didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. As you both entered, he turned to close and lock the door behind you. You stood in the center of the floor awkwardly, waiting for him to give you some cue as to what to do. Should you try to talk to him? Should you kiss? Should you drop your underwear and bend over and let him do what he pleased? This was an entirely new scenario to you, and you had absolutely no idea what to do. He waited as well, hands in his pockets, though not out of nerves. It was a test. He was trying to see if you were forward enough to take action, or if the awkwardness would be too much for you to stand. You held eye contact firm. He seemed pleased with this and broke the tension.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded in response.

“Face down on the bed, hands behind your back.” Your breathing stopped, and you couldn’t move. So this was the type of night this would turn out to be. You’d be meat. He watched your shocked expression and waited for movement, before cracking a smile and saying “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved and feeling slightly looser.

He kicked off his expensive shoes and hopped on the bed, hands behind his head as he leaned back against the pillows. He patted the seat next to him in a silent order to sit. You perched on the edge of the bed and leaned down to finally take off your excruciating shoes. You sighed in relief once they were off, and spun to sit next to him, still feeling unsure.

“I’m not sure what to do,” you finally admitted, hands picking at each other. His piercing blue eyes made contact with your own. He was extremely confident, and it was a little intimidating.

“Well, we’re supposed to have sex,” he stated plainly, hands still behind his head.

“Right,” you said nervously, “so should we just… start?”

“Why you doing this?” He questioned, the sudden change of topic giving you whiplash. “You don’t seem like you want to be here, so why are you?”

“Uhh,” you thought. Should you lie and act into it? Should you be honest only for him to treat you like a chew toy anyways? “Well, I uh, I just need to get into this sorority.”

“Other ones weren’t fancy enough for you?” he questioned, a joke laced in truth.

“Not exactly,” you started. “There’s a grad school I want to go to. Need to go to. And of girls in this sorority who apply, 90% get accepted. The Dean was a Kappa.”

He nodded in understanding. “That’s a better reason than most,” he finally responded, giving you some comfort. “I was right, though.”

At this, you gave him a questioning look. “Right about what?”

“You’re not Kappa material. That house is for sluts and party girls.” You were caught off guard by his bold language, and somewhat offended at his accusation, though you know deep down that he was right.

“Well then why did you pay $1,000 for me if I’m not a slut?” you countered, trying to throw something, anything, back at him.

“Because you’re smoking. And I know what Tanner Marshall does to girls, and you’re too innocent for that.”

“I am not innocent,” you huffed, glaring at him through a blush. He doesn’t know you. Who does he think he is labeling you like that?

“Oh yeah? How many guys have you slept with?” he argued. You paused. Should you lie? You didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle yourself in the bedroom. Then, he might tell Kappa that you weren’t satisfactory and you’d never get in. Something about his stare, though, demanded honesty. You could see him being a very cut-throat boss or CEO someday.

“...one.”

“One guy, or one time?” Damn him. Was he a mind reader or something?

“.... one time. There, happy now?”

“What did you think?”

“What did I think of what?” you countered.

“The sex. Did you like it?”

You paused. This conversation was taking a turn, but what did you expect from a night like tonight?

“It was… fine,” you admitted.

“Just fine?” he prodded, “did you finish?”

“Wha– that’s none of your business,” you argued. He must have some real ego, asking you a question like that.

“So, no,” he stated. Your intense blush only confirmed his remark.

He smirked to himself, contemplating his next words.

“So, Y/n, here’s my offer.” He was definitely a business bro in the making. “We can stay in here for 20 minutes, make some crazy noises, and you can tell everyone we had sex so you can get into your precious sorority. No hard feelings. Or, you can actually let me fuck you. You’ll learn what good sex is supposed to feel like, and walk out of here an honest woman.”

What an insane offer. He was giving you a free pass to get out of this after dropping $1k for a night with you. He would let you walk away and tell everyone you had gone through with it. What was the catch?

“What makes you think I’ll like it any better with you?” you countered, feeling defensive.

“Oh, trust me, you will,” he smirked again. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid cute face. Damn him. Why were you even considering this? You should take the free pass and run, you thought. But for some reason, you stopped. He was super hot, and you were in college. There was nothing wrong with wanting to get a little more experience, especially if you were going to spend your entire school career in the library doing test prep. You know what? Maybe you should do it. After all, he spent big money to save you from a worse fate, and was giving you options right now. You wondered how many of the other pledges were wishing they had that offer tonight.

“Okay,” you breathed, feeling emboldened by your choice.

“Okay, what?” he quipped.

“Okay, we can… do it,” you responded, again feeling shy but trying to power through it. His face lit up with a laugh at your phrasing.

“Well then, come here, sweetheart,” he muttered, pulling you closer to him by the hips as you gasped. You were fully lying down next to him now, and he was leaning over you with a hand on your inner thigh, your leg pushed up against his stomach. He leaned down and confidently took your lips with his own. You squeaked in surprise at his boldness before sinking further into the mattress and shutting your eyes. He kissed you slowly, yet dominantly, tongue peaking out to brush your lips before retreating so as not to scare you with too much, too fast. His one elbow remained propped by your head as his other hand rubbed soft patterns on your thigh. That felt nice, you thought, as your body grew hotter. If the rest of the night was going to be anything like this, you were in for it.

Breathing heavily, you pulled away for air as he brought his mouth to your neck. He licked a firm stripe up the side, pulling another gasp out of you, before sucking down on a patch of skin. He soothed with his tongue before lightly biting, being sure to leave a mark. You began to writhe underneath him at the sensation, which he definitely noticed.

“Feelin’ good?” he muttered, face still buried in your neck. You felt the urge to tease him as he had been teasing you all night.

“It’s… fine,” you giggled, attempting to knock his confidence. But he only sucked harder at this, drawing a yelp from you. He sat up on his knees before you and tore his t-shirt off in a fervor. He paused for a moment, giving you time to pump the brakes. However, you took that time to admire his defined torso, lined with lean muscle and veins trailing down below his waistband. You wanted to find out where they lead. He adjusted his backwards hat and lowered himself onto the bed between your legs, hooking your thighs over his shoulders. He began to kiss your inner thighs before you stopped him.

“We can skip this part,” you said breathlessly. He looked at you, confused.

“Why?”

“I just… I don’t really like it, is all,” you admitted. He looked at you like you just spoke Chinese.

“You’ve had one guy who had no idea what he was doing eat you out. I’m doing it, and you’re gonna like it. Besides, I’m not fucking you without getting you warmed up first.” He said it almost as an order, and you had no choice but to let him continue. Maybe it would be different this time. You doubted it, but it was possible. He used a hand to push you back down on the bed and began kissing your thighs once more. You were only in a bra and underwear, so he had easy access to you, but he didn’t go straight for it just yet. He kissed and sucked around your thighs and hips, careful not to touch your center. He was being a tease.

You lost yourself in the feeling and began to writhe once more. Noticing this, Rafe brought a hand down to pull your underwear to the side, and met your center with a soft kiss. Your nerves were all lit up at this point, so even the small motion felt great. Your hips bucked up for more friction, but he pulled away.

“What do you say?” he teased.

“Please,” you pleaded without any thought to it. He mumbled a ‘fuck’ at this, and commented, “What a good girl you are.” He brought his mouth back down and began to lick stripes up your center before suckling on your clit. This action caused a small moan to leave your mouth, which only encouraged him more. He continued these motions for God knows how long, licking, suckling, kissing, until you were a squirming mess underneath him. Then, he brought a single finger to your center, swirling it around your hole to collect your juices, before pushing it inside you to the second knuckle. He paused here so as not to hurt you, and waited for a reaction. When he found none, he pushed his digit all the way in, and studied your face as he brushed your inner wall in a “come here” motion. You gasped as your eyes shut closed and your head dropped back. Shit, that felt good.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as he kept up this motion, adding his mouth back into the mix once he was satisfied with your facial expressions. The combination of his mouth and finger was insane. You’d never felt anything like this before, even by yourself. This must have been what girls were talking about when they raved about oral.

“Oh my God, Rafe,” you sighed. He moaned in response, grinding his hips into the mattress. After several more minutes of this, he sat up and looked for the strip of condoms that had been forgotten on the floor. Standing from the bed and tearing one off, he dropped his pants and tore the packet open with his teeth. You admired him. He was straight out of a Greek myth, all corded rope muscles and a jawline that could cut a man. His tall frame overtook the room, and his dick… it was… big. Big enough to have you concerned. The last guy you had been with was half the size, and the pain was excruciating. Rafe saw your concerned face.

“Y’okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just, um… “ he waited patiently for a response. “Would you mind, maybe, like… starting kind of… slow?” you finally managed to drag out.

He looked at you again with a hint of laughter on his face.

“Honey… I’m not just gonna jam it in you,” he laughed. “We’ll take it easy. I’m not a monster.”

You giggled with him at this and relaxed into the bed once more. He kneeled before you on the bed looking like a Calvin Klein ad. Hands beside your head, he lowered himself on top of you and gave you a sweet kiss. He lined himself up and asked, “Ready?”

You nodded and felt him push his tip through your folds. He pressed carefully into you as you stiffened at the stretch. His face was buried in your neck once more, kissing up and down softly. Feeling your tense muscles, he whispered an order. “Breathe,” he soothed, the hand that wasn’t holding himself up petting your hair. You did as told and attempted to relax your body. He slid further in and paused to let you adjust.

You peeked down at your joined bodies and saw that the fullness you felt inside of you was only half of his length.

“Jesus,” you sighed.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, holding you steady. His words were the only thing keeping you grounded in that moment as you tried to manage the stretch of him. When he was most of the way seated, he pulled out a couple of inches and carefully pushed back in. You felt the drag of him on your walls, and let out a sigh. The sensation was bordering on painful, but the pressure of his tip inside you was a needed and pleasurable distraction. He did this once more, pushing deeper in this time, and continued this motion until he was fully seated inside of you.

“How’s it feel?” he questioned.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed, unsure how to describe it.

“I know baby, I know,” he comforted, hand still petting your head. “Let’s get you goin’, yeah?”

You nodded, though you would have agreed with anything he said in that moment. He dragged himself out halfway and pushed back in. He was still being gentle, but was definitely picking up the pace and made sure to watch you for any signs of discomfort. He sat up to a kneeling position between your legs and brought his hands to your waist, holding you steady for him. He worked into a quicker pace and brought a thumb to your clit, drawing small circles. This had you bucking your hips to meet his, soft moans beginning to leave your mouth. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back, falling into the moment.

Seeing you relax, he cooed, “There you go.”

“Oh my God,” you sighed, brows scrunching at his relentless rhythm. This was nothing like your last time, and you were so grateful for that. His thumb quickened on your clit, drawing higher and louder moans from you. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned loudly, only spurring him on further. His own moans joined yours, and you felt your stomach tighten. You tensed, and he noticed, not changing a thing about his actions until you were seeing stars. Your whole body tightened as you came, thighs trembling and mouth hanging open in a silent scream, and he watched every second of it, keeping pace until you peeled his hand off your center, the feeling becoming too much to handle. He dropped his hand, but remained constant with his hips until you saw his own face begin to scrunch. He moaned a “Fuck, Y/N” as he spilled into the condom, and paused for his own high to blow over before pulling out of you gently. You felt an emptiness in you then, wanting him back inside of you but knowing you both needed a break. After throwing away the condom, he came back to lay beside you on the bed, heavy breathing matching your own.

Your eyes remained closed, but you became conscious of how long you were lingering. Wasn’t that rule number one of hook-ups? You were supposed to leave right after?

“Sorry, just give me a second and I’ll go,” you huffed, still catching your breath.

He looked over at you and, after realizing what you said, spoke, “you’re not going anywhere.” You looked at him in slight confusion.

“We’re gonna snuggle and then go get some food. I’m fucking starving after that.”

“Okay,” you conceded. Again, you would have agreed to anything that man had said in that moment. You didn’t have the energy or will power to put up a fight. He pulled you onto his chest and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead and soothing your skin with his fingers. You sighed and shut your eyes, soaking in the moment.

“So?” he prodded, that same cocky tone as before lacing his voice.

“So, what?” you teased.

“I’m guessing by your volume that you liked it,” he retorted. You felt yourself blush at this, not realizing that you had been particularly loud. He felt your embarrassment and comforted with a laugh, “It’s okay, I like loud. It was hot.” All you could do was giggle and bury your face in his chest.

“Hungry?” he changed the subject. You nodded, and he sat up and said, “Get dressed, gorgeous.” You looked down at the wrinkled lingerie that still adorned your figure, realizing that you didn’t have anything else to wear. You certainly couldn’t wear this in public. This wasn’t Vegas. He saw where your gaze landed and seemed to understand. After putting on his joggers, he walked over to you with his shirt and put it over your head, pulling the sleeves over your arms. “Doordash it is, then.”

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; end up here

maybe a tad angsty (taesan is an overthinker), fluff at end!, campus crush (he's literally in love with you), college au, reader is a baddie mhm yep yep

word count: 2.2k wtf

warnings: cursing, implied insecurity (taesan), alcohol usage, alcohol + weed mention, party setting, i'm literally so cliche but idgaf

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: everyone rejoice... other members are mentioned >:D ok i lied. i tried to fit everyone in but it's mainly riwoo & leehan. and it felt wrong to find a way to include woonhak in a college party where there are Drugs and Alcohol buttttt hope u enjoy mwuwhuwhuh

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

taesan really didn’t want to go to this party, but riwoo and leehan had insisted it would be more fun than staying in his dorm room writing song lyrics the third weekend in a row. not that he doesn’t want to party, but he’d rather spend his time doing something he’s /actually/ interested in-- and right now, it doesn’t include making awkward small talk with strangers he will probably never see again in a sweaty led-lit room with mediocre music in the background. 

“taesan… come on! i understand that you love making music, but don’t you think it’s time to come out with us? just this once?” riwoo pleads with him, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. reluctantly, taesan spins around in his chair, turning to face his friend properly. 

“ah, i knew i shouldn’t have turned around. it’s so much easier to say no to you when i’m not looking at your face. put those puppy eyes away, i’ll go change.” he gives in a bit easier than he initially intended to, unable to hide his smile at the way riwoo does a dance of celebration at his successful convincing. 

leehan, currently leaning on the doorframe, chuckles at the sight. “i don’t think it’d be bad for you to go out with us from time to time,” he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before continuing his thought, “maybe you’ll find some more song inspiration while we're out.”

taesan rolls his eyes and ushers the two out of his room, quickly changing into one of his favorite shirts and fixing his hair in the mirror. after grabbing a couple of accessories and checking himself out in the mirror one last time, the trio make their way to the house in question. it’s only a party, it shouldn't be too bad... 

“wow, the weather’s perfect tonight.” leehan admires, hands in his pockets as they walk through campus, warmly lit by the streetlights scattered around. the crisp night air only seems to give taesan cold feet, as he feels the sudden urge to turn around and walk back to the laptop waiting for him in his dorm (despite being only a couple seconds away from their destination). almost expecting this to happen, riwoo stops in his tracks, causing taesan to bump into him.

riwoo crosses his arms, ready to give the best pep talk of his life. “i swear i can hear your thoughts. dude, don’t overthink this! it’s just another one of jaehyun’s parties, nothing crazy. we’re gonna have fun tonight!" riwoo frowns at taesan's doubtful expression. "leehan, help me out here.”

“i’m sure you’ll recognize at least half the people there. plus, you look cool.” leehan pats him on the back as a means of reassurance before putting his arm around taesan, practically dragging him through the door. 

upon entering, taesan is immediately reminded of the last time his two friends convinced him to go out with them-- it reeked of cheap weed, the music absolutely sucked, and to top it all off, someone spilled their mystery drink (?) all over his shirt. never again, he told himself that night.

but here he was, red solo cup in hand as he followed his two friends around while they greeted various people around the room. taesan actually could not recognize anyone else except his classmates, sungho and jaehyun, who were sitting on the couch against the wall. the concoction in his cup was barely touched, disgustingly sweet because of the various juices in it, and alcohol too strong to enjoy it in the slightest. maybe he should’ve stayed home.

“you walked in, everyone was asking for your name / you just smiled and told them trouble” 

“no way…is that y/n? y’know, i was convinced you’d never show up to one of my parties, but here you are!” jaehyun nearly jumps up from his place on the couch, hugging you at the entrance before shoving a cup full of who-knows-what into your hand. no way, indeed.

never did taesan think he would end up seeing his campus crush as close as he is now. this is crazy. he finds himself straightening his posture suddenly, even going as far as taking a big gulp of the drink in his hand, despite its unappealing taste. he'd noticed you early into the semester, finding you sitting with your friends out in one of the common areas outside his classes. he didn’t think much of it-- that is, until he kept seeing you. like, everywhere. he'd never admit it to himself, but he soon found himself looking forward to seeing you around. eventually, it got to the point where he started dressing a little nicer on the days he knew you’d be there, in hopes that you might notice him too. 

“i think some of your friends are here already, y/n. oh, a few of my friends from class came too, you'll love them!” jaehyun encourages you to introduce yourself on the spot. while slightly flustered, you look around the room with a smile as you wave to the various people.

“shit, how many friends do you have?” you joke, taking a sip from your cup before properly introducing yourself to a room full of, well, strangers. “nice to meet you everyone, i’m y/n!” you do a little twirl, which earns a couple whistles from around the room. taesan swore he felt the room brighten up with your arrival. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room full of people. he moves to take another gulp of his drink as the two of you lock eyes briefly, making him cough before he could properly swallow. 

“y/n…who’s that? you know them?” leehan questions from next to him, pointing his cup in the direction of the front door. taesan only hums and shakes his head ‘no’ in response, his eyes glued to you as you dance along with the friends you’d just greeted. 

“my head spins / i’m pressed against the wall just watching your every move / you’re way too cool / now you’re coming this way” 

despite his sudden reluctance to drink when he first got there, taesan found himself with a freshly replenished cup planted in his hand as he leaned against the wall. the alcohol was starting to get to him; he could definitely feel the buzz with the way the room felt like it got a couple degrees hotter. or maybe it was just you being there that was making him warmer than he was ten minutes ago. he was vaguely listening to the conversation his classmates were having next to him, but his eyes always found their way back to you. he’s seeing you in a completely different light. normally, he’d be one to briefly admire from afar as he walked out of his lecture hall; now, you’re here. 

and all of a sudden it’s a little too real, because what do you mean he gets to see you laugh and dance around with your friends…? you’re just supposed to be the campus crush he never gets the chance to make a move on. wait. this is his chance to make a move, isn’t it? oh god, what if he doesn’t get another opportunity like this to talk to you without looking like some weird dude who’s been looking at you across campus-

“how did we end up talking in the first place? / you said you liked my cobain shirt”

“cool shirt. kurt cobain, yeah?” oh shit. and now you’re in front of him. riwoo elbows taesan, which was his way of telling him ‘good luck.’ the action snaps him out of his thoughts, eyes widening ever so slightly before he clears his throat.

“yeah, it is. you know nirvana then?” he scratches the back of his head, noticing his friends moving their conversation away from the two of you out of his peripheral vision. he mentally curses them out, because now this conversation feels like he needs to make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, and now there’s no one there to butt in and save him. 

“obviously! you can’t say you know kurt cobain if you don’t know who nirvana is.” you beam at him as you finish the drink you were holding in your hand. his campus crush listens to one of his favorite artists, surely this isn’t real.

“taesan,” he blurts out, “i’m taesan, by the way. and you are..?” he waits for your response, as if your name wasn’t the only thing floating in his mind the second jaehyun welcomed you inside. (this is his attempt of being nonchalant btw)

“i’m y/n!” you look down at your empty cup briefly before looking around the room aimlessly. “do you want to get out of here?”

“what? you want to… leave?” with him? like this? now he’s almost sure this is some sort of prank or something. he’s taken aback at the bold request, clearly confused at what the hell is going on.

“it’s hot in here. and loud. you don’t want to step outside for a minute?” you placed your cup down on a random table, already making your way towards the door. you look at taesan, extending out your hand for him to grab so you can drag him through the crowd. 

oh, you just want to get some fresh air. okay. that makes a lot more sense. he’s glad the lighting is so bad in there, as he’s almost certain his ears are red as he looks at your waiting hand. he mimics your actions, putting his cup down on the counter before finally placing his hand in yours and letting you lead the way. 

“now we’re walking back to your place / you’re telling me how you love that song about living on a prayer” 

the two of you sit side by side on the curb outside the house, slowly getting more used to each other as you go on about random topics-- first, it was music... then clothes... eventually turning into a never-ending stream of conversation topics neither of you wanted to put an end to. he’s in awe of the situation he’s currently in: you look so beautiful under the streetlights, and you keep laughing at his jokes, and maybe the weather really is perfect tonight, just as leehan said earlier.

...taesan doesn’t exactly know how he finds himself sitting on your living room floor, but he vaguely remembers you complaining about how your outfit was too uncomfortable and you desperately needed to change. he instinctively offers to walk you back to your apartment to get some comfier clothes on; you even offer him one of your bigger hoodies for him to change into. it was still a little small for his liking, but he accepts your kind gesture happily.

much to his satisfaction, the conversation never dies. hours pass as you two continue talking about anything and everything. the things you miss from your hometowns, embarrassing childhood stories, outrageous things you've witnessed at past parties you've been to-- and it all flows so naturally. taesan swears he is in love, because even though he was lucky enough to find a great group of friends at uni, he’d never clicked with someone like this so fast, let alone the person he's been crushing on for weeks now. 

“my friends say i should lock you down / before you figure me out and you run away / but you don’t and you won’t / as you kiss me and you tell me that you’re here to stay” 

taesan is disappointed when he wakes up. damn it, he knew it was a dream. he blinks a couple times before reaching for his phone on his nightstand, only to be met with… carpet? and you, his campus crush, the person he spent the entire night talking to until you both eventually fell asleep on the apartment floor next to each other, laying on the carpet two feet away from him. sitting up almost immediately, he covers his mouth in disbelief as he takes in the situation, desperately looking for where his phone is without making too much noise.

→ 6 missed texts from The Boyz groupchat! riwoo: taesanieeee did u go back to the dorm without telling us :(  leehan: Wasn’t he talking to y/n? leehan: Check outside sungho: yeah, he’s still out there talking to them sungho: leave him be lmao jaehyun: actually? this isn’t really y/n’s type of crowd jaehyun: i’m surprised they haven’t gone home yet LOL keep up the good work taesan ;)

he puts his phone down on the floor, letting out a sigh as he places his head in his hands. oh god, and they’re already on him about this. he can’t help but let the last message jaehyun sent get to his head. not your crowd, huh? yeah, makes sense. after all, you shone so bright last night, it’s only reasonable for them to think that you probably wouldn’t get along with a guy who practically hugged the wall the whole time.

“he’s just trying to psych you out, you know.” you ran your hands through your hair as you stretch, taesan’s phone in hand. he shoots up immediately, in shock at the realization that you were awake and that you read the texts on his phone. “sorry for taking a peek at your groupchat, was just curious about what had you sulking so early in the morning.” you pass it back to him, his cheeks visibly flushed in embarrassment; the sunlight shining through the blinds only illuminating his current flustered state further. 

“i wasn’t planning on coming to the party last night, by the way. i only showed up because he told me you’d be there. you think i haven’t noticed you around campus too?” you smile at him from your place on the floor, moving over to give him a peck on the cheek. he thinks it’s insane how charming you can get, even if you just woke up. “stop worrying so much-- i’m here to stay, taesan. only if you treat me to breakfast though.” 

taesan doesn’t exactly know how he ended up here, but he was almost certain he'd found his new muse.

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hi I'd like to make a request please for William, nozel and Fuego where their s/o visits them at work and gives them a kiss on the cheek and it leaves a lipstick mark but the men don't notice and go about their day until someone points it out? Wholesome adorable fics are what keeps me going

Hiya~! ^^

I was in the mood for some fun and fluff today too! So, I hope you get a giggle out of this! (I did slightly divert in Nozel's prompt; he gets the kiss on his way to work instead, I hope it's okay)

Pairings: William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader (I think it's only implied f!reader, otherwise pretty gn) Fanfic type: Oneshots Genre: Fun and fluff Total length: ~1,1k Contains: Lipstick markings, people giving the guys some odd looks, if you squint I guess you could say that a third party member flirts with Will??? but it's just to let him know that he does have a lipstick stain on his cheek, the guys are very much in love with reader though, Nozel is the grumpiest, but he's not missing out on kisses in the future (he's just being himself okay), just fluff fluff fluff

William

You followed your husband to his office after breakfast, seeing him just having sat down by the desk, judging from the steaming cup of tea next to him, and smirked ever so slightly at the sight of him. Just because he was so handsome, serious, and overall just wonderful.

But... you also wanted to make him blush, because he could be perfectly adorable when he did.

Which was why you strolled to him, leaned down, and pressed a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a distinct mark of your favourite day-time lipstick, along with a prominent blush on his cheeks.

“What for?” He managed to ask, while looking at you with wide eyes.

“Just for being you,” you winked before heading out of the door, leaving him to wonder, expecting him to wipe of the lipstick stain.

However... he didn’t because he was unaware that it was there.

And throughout the day, he felt that people gave him strange looks. That they were intently looking at his face, or looking away from him, with a few exceptions. At least at the base.

But when he ventured into the city, he was sure that he could see some women whispering and giggling behind his back; a couple of guys pointing at him. Which made him wonder what was going on. He was known to the public. It wasn’t like he was a strange sight.

Until...

“Love the lipstick,” a girl winked with a laugh before running away.

“Lip...stick?” He uttered in confusion, and strolled to the nearest reflective surface, which happened to be a shop window.

And that was when he realized it.

The mark on his cheek.

But... in a strange way, he didn’t mind it. He didn’t mind others knowing that he had someone in his life.

Which was why a tender smile rose to his lips.

Nozel

Nozel was making his way to his office, deep in thought as he walked through the hallways of the Silva estate, which was why he nearly missed you walking up to him from behind, and linking your arm with his.

“Hm?” He hummed while turning his head ever so slightly towards you, which allowed you to quite easily press a kiss onto his cheek.

“Have a good day at work,” you wished with a proud smile, seeing the stain on his marble skin, practically beaming from him.

“Thank you,” he said before placing a kiss onto your temple, and going about his day.

He’ll notice the stain soon enough, you thought with amusement.

Little did you know that he was on his way to a meeting with influential Clover nobility. And throughout it, he felt them to be staring at him. Which was why he glared back. Quite simply, he wouldn’t let himself be ridiculed or looked down upon by people.

And they didn’t voice anything.

But it did leave a sore taste in his mouth. What could have cause them to give him such looks? What was going on? A rumour spreading perhaps? It’d be idle gossip in any case, but it could be less than beneficial, so he should try to do something about it in some point. When he found out what it had to do with.

But that was a lesser worry. Which is why he shrugged it off on his way to his office.

“Good day Sir,” Nils greeted.

He hummed as a reply, but then... Even Nils gave him a look. Which ticked him off.

“What is it?” He narrowed his eyes, while looking at his Vice-Captain.

And Nils... he hesitated for a moment. Before replying: “It seems that you have been marked, Sir. With lipstick. On your cheek. By the Mrs.”

And Nozel...

Nozel stared at Nils.

Marched to the nearest mirror, and stared at his reflection. Which was followed by him pinching the bridge of his nose.

This was sure to become a gossip for some time. And he could already imagine the laughter he’d hear at the next captains’ meeting.

But. That was something he’d have to face, when it came around. And maybe check if you were wearing lipstick before giving him a kiss in the future. At least before work. Or ask you to only get the kinds that don’t leave stain.

Fuegoleon

You popped by the Crimson Lion Kings’ headquarters, just to see how people were doing. And catch a glimpse of your husband. Quite simply because you wanted to see him. Of course you did.

And yet he seemed surprised when you popped your head through the doorway into his office. But in a pleasant way.

“What? I can’t visit my handsome husband?” You teased while strolling over and giving him a kiss on his cheek.

“Of course you may,” he replied with a smile. “How’s your day going?”

“Better now that I saw you,” you teased. “But I can’t keep distracting you from your work. I’ll turn the distraction on after working hours.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “You’re a welcomed distraction,” he teased back as you were already on your way out of the door, giving him a grin, as the lipstick imprint framed his eyes.

It suits his eyeliner, you thought with amusement, shaking your head. He’ll notice it in a bit.

Only that he didn’t.

But he found that his knights seemed to be on a good mood during the day. They told him that he and you were clearly in a good place in the relationship, and he was happy to hear that it showed. Even if he tried to maintain his composure and stay as professional as possible, which included not talking about personal relations.

Still, he was happy that they saw how happy you two were together.

Even Randall seemed amused.

Which... was explained after a few chuckles.

“She has left an impression on you. Rather clear one. Never realized that her lipstick matches your markings, Sir,” he stated with an amused grin, and tapped his cheek.

And as Fuegoleon made it to the washroom, and caught a glimpse of the mark on his cheek, he shook his head with a faint, amused, chuckle. It might have been unprofessional, but no real harm came from it. And... he didn’t mind people knowing, and thinking, that you were in a good place.

However, he might need to playfully sweep you off your feet in the evening.

[orcinus-veterinarius]

So... it seems I accidentally deleted an ask rather than answering it. To whoever asked "is it okay to visit SeaWorld? Does the money go to giving the orcas good care?"... here is your answer!

The SeaWorld parks, as well as Busch Gardens, Discovery Cove, and a few others, are operated by the recently renamed United Parks and Entertainment, a for-profit theme park company. Like any other corporation, their first goal is to remain profitable. Obviously, a large portion of that goes to corporate leadership and shareholders. But that's far from unique to United, or theme parks in general. It's a byproduct of the greedy world we live in. If you're willing to buy a ticket to Disney or Six Flags, then buying a ticket to a SeaWorld or Busch Gardens is no more immoral.

According to the AZA, approximately 46% of their members are for-profit. And while AZA zoos certainly vary in quality (anywhere from "acceptable" to "exceptional" in my opinion), for-profit status does not cheapen or detract from the work they do. In fact, for-profit institutions often have more financial freedom for animal care and conservation efforts than their non-profit counterparts. Non-profit zoos and aquariums are wonderful places, but believe me when I say there's a startling amount of politics in every aspect of their management. Non-profit status does not automatically make a zoo better, and for-profit status does not automatically make a zoo worse.

Now... do SeaWorld ticket sales go toward giving their orcas (and other animals) good care? Yes.

While it's certainly simplistic for parks to claim, as they do, "just by buying a ticket today you're helping save animals in the wild!"... it's not exactly a lie. Being for-profit, SeaWorld doesn't ask for donations to fund park operations or outreach endeavours. That revenue is generated by selling tickets, merchandise, food, etc. The same goes for their wildlife rescue and rehab program, Rising Tide conservation program, Coral Rescue Center, and the SeaWorld-Busch Gardens Conservation Fund, as well as partner organizations like OCEARCH and the Hubbs-SeaWorld Research Institute.

Take ticket sales away, and they can't care for their animals, or continue to fund conservation projects. While I don't know the whole story of what exactly is going on with Marineland Antibes, it appears that the park is in a dire financial situation due to plummeting attendance, to the point that they can no longer maintain their killer whale habitat and are trying to offload their animals onto an Asian aquarium or, potentially, an as-of-yet non-existent third party sea pen. While certainly well-meaning, years of boycotts against Marineland ultimately put their animals in a position where they are not being properly cared for. And it would be horrifying if the same thing happened to SeaWorld. I don't think many people, in their fervor to punish the parks for their perceived misdeeds and save the animals, thought about what the reality of driving a zoological facility into financial ruin would look like.

Don't get me wrong, SeaWorld's shift toward promoting itself as a thrill park that also does conservation rather than a marine facility that happens to have roller coasters annoys me. I would have rather they built a separate, neighboring park for the rides, or at least integrated them into the existing park less obtrusively (Disney's Animal Kingdom, for example, seemlessly integrates the theme park and zoo elements, although they have the benefit of the incredibly talented Imagineering team behind them). But as tiresome as the constant roller coaster announcements are, they are what kept the company afloat financially in the years immediately following Blackfish, drawing in a crowd that previously had no interest in the parks, and for that I'm grateful. Thankfully, SeaWorld is in a better spot nowadays. But the only way to convince them that their animals, not their roller coasters, are what people want to see... is to visit and see the animals.

In short, yes, part of your SeaWorld ticket funds care for their orcas and their many admirable projects. Now if only more of it went to giving their staff better salaries.

[cieloclercs]

grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it

hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?

congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶

call me cupid — ollie bearman

pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader

word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)

warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭

author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one &lt;3

read below the cut

He’s staring again.

It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.

Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.

“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”

The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”

This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.

“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.

“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.

Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.

In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.

In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.

“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.

“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.

“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.

“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.

"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."

Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.

"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."

You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.

"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."

Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.

"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.

"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.

"I promise." Ollie croaks.

Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.

But then he steps away.

You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?

"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.

"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.

"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.

"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.

"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.

"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."

And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.

At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.

“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”

You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.

“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.

“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.

“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.

“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.

“He said the exact same thing to me.”

And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.

“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.

Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.

“Just call me Cupid.”

[the-doomed-witch]

Hey can you write a natasha romanoff or wanda maximoff with fem reader with taylor swift's gorgeous? I think that song is perfect for them and it's my fav. Taylor song. Thanks in advance

YOU’RE GORGEOUS

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the journalist, and she’s a celebrity. You’re drunk, and she’s gorgeous. You know how it goes. // based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS + MEN DNI. a really thick tension, almost competing w e/o, jealousy?, everyone’s like reaaally getting drunk, publicly making out, nothing but pining, situationship but it actually works out 💀

SEND ME REQUESTS BASED ON TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Author’s Note: hi anon! i hope you enjoy this 🫶 if you noticed the “hey stephen” no you didn’t 😭 also sorry this became kind of long but overall i loved writing this

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION

— ✦ —

Her flashing green eyes meet your glare as soon as she enters the room, hands tied with her stupid boyfriend. He’s not even just some guy, he’s a fucking microwave.

It was yet another Avengers party, and you were there as a member of the press, again. It was the third one this month, and you were tired of coming up with questions to interview them with. You showed up, asked them updates about their upcoming plans in hopes of a new cover story, ignored Wanda in every way that you could, got drunk, and left. It was a routine for you. But at least you got to drink expensive wine.

Your body tenses up at her sharp death stare, as if she was ready to burn you down. Wherever she went, you moved to the opposite direction, joining a circle of people or excusing them to click a picture of them. Of course, Stephen Strange was a fellow who’d love to get a picture taken, so you follow him.

Wanda sways her hips while walking up to you, her black dress gliding with the movement of her hips. “Hey Stephen, could you excuse us for a minute? Thanks.” Having no opportunity to answer, he nods with a formal smile and leaves you in Wanda’s privacy, all alone.

Placing her glass of whiskey aside, she hugs you. Albeit lightly, but you lose your breath for the second. “Y/N, what a delight to meet you. I feel like we need a lot of catching up to do.” she speaks with a smirk on her face, adorned by curls of her red hair falling down gracefully

You politely agree and grab yourself a drink; it was what you had to do in your professional capacity. Journalists cannot be rude to anyone.

She takes you to a quieter corner of the deafening party, that God knows how even exists. It was dark, but you had a couch to yourselves, just enough space to fit the two of you at a safe distance.

She speaks something, but you don’t hear it, you’re too busy staring at her cleavage. Wanda understands the direction of your pupils right away, and stretches her back, rotating her neck to release the tension.

“I’ve been really tired today. But since we are old friends, I think I should know a little bit about your life these days. How’s everything going on? Have you got a girlfriend?”

Old friends? That’s how you define a homoerotic ass situationship? Really, Wanda? You decide to join her game, and take off your coat, folding it and resting it on your lap.

“Mm, I’d love to say yes, but I’m afraid not. It’s kinda on and off you know.” You adjust your tie, it was harder to breathe with Wanda so close to you. “How are things with Vision?” you counter question her. It isn’t a competition, but you fear giving in against her.

She takes a deep breath, and replies, “I hope none of this goes out into the press.”

“You can trust me, Wans.” You add the nickname as a sign of confidentiality and a personal effect.

“Things haven’t been good with him. I don’t even know what he’s doing out there right now. I’m not even sure where he even is, if he has left the party to go to a club or something. Not that I care anymore…”

“I’m sorry for that, I wish he wasn’t a moron.”

She laughs and slightly hits your arm, “Hey! I’m still his plus one for the night.”

“I guess you should try to find him around here somewhere, then.” you give her the evil smirk. She reflects the same expression and says, “It hurts to know you don’t have a girlfriend yet. You deserve one, for the stunning woman you are.”

It suddenly turns into a game of who can hold back longer and who can roast better. You excuse yourself from the coversation after a little while, and proceed to ask people some questions.

With the glances you steal, you observe that Wanda doesn’t smile for the rest of the evening, not even the perilous grin of hers. The time passes for hours till you are inebriated again, spending your time with the even more drunk host of the evening; Tony Stark.

You stand in a group with him, Valkyrie and Thor around you, all high from unhealthy amounts of drinking. You still hold yet another glass of wine in your hands, sipping between quips and laughter.

“She called me her ‘old friend’… The fuck does that even mean? A friend who’s older than you?” The group laughs with every sentence you narrate to them.

“Girl, we’ve had our fair share of situationships… none of them have ever called me an ‘old friend’… it’s just the weirdest thing to say…”

Thor holds his guffaws back and asks you, “But Y/N, who is this lady that you’re talking of?”

“Well you wouldn’t believe.”

Tony joins in the conversation, “Oh come on Y/N, tell us!”

You notice Wanda entering the little crowd of four of you. She’s just as drunk, but seems to be in little control of herself, unlike you.

You throw your arm around her shoulders, and watch her change the subject of discussion. Maybe she heard what you said, maybe it was involuntary, but she is here to the rescue of you and herself.

In between drinks and limericks by Thor, Wanda’s hand extends to your waist, your arm still around her shoulders.

You both turn towards each other to laugh, but the smiles falter away with the vicinity of your bodies. You freeze for a moment, watching her eyes give you a soft look for the first time in months. Suddenly, she’s the only one in the enormous room, filled with thousands of people. She’s the only one emanating light, in the crowdful of darkness.

Her eyebrows stretch up, with her uncertain expression. For a response, you move your hand to her nape, scratching it softly as you tug her closer to you. She wraps your tie around her wrist, in an attempt to pull you more quickly than your pace.

Her lips feel warm, and delicate. With repeated scratches at the back of her neck, she sighs and pulls your tie even closer, consequently her tongue meeting yours. Your stomach tingles with butterflies till she gives you space to take a breath.

It’s infuriating to feel this way. Out of all the alcohol that made you drunk, only the feeling of her lips brushing against yours managed to intoxicate you.

The lustre of her black dress remains lingering in your eyes when you push Wanda against the bar counter, careful not to hurt her exposed and freckled back. “You’re so fucking gorgeous Wanda,” you speak before capturing her into another kiss, “I hate it so much. God, I hate it so much.”

“Hate me enough to take me home tonight?”

“Oh I could be alone all I want. Unless you wanna come along?”

[yuriisclumsy]

𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾, 𝙰𝚌𝚝 𝙸: Start Anew

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𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒. 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,083

Authors note: Hope everyone's day is good. I have been working on the story for a while -- it takes time to write a chapter -- getting inspirations and tidying up the plot a bit. I really love were this is going! Side Note: If you want to ask more about the story, or want to clarify somethings, my ASK! is always opened! I think I will also be accepting request from this fandom as well. So, don't be shy. PS. This is the longest chapter so far.

It’s been a while since I arrived here; a place filled with unknowns and mysteries.

Not knowing where I was…frightening to say the least. Being far away from my home, into a land of magic. 

If I hadn’t tried pinching myself every time I encountered a creature right out of a fantasy anime, I would believe I was in a dream, crazy even.

When I awoke, I found myself inside a big hole with cecilia flowers blooming in the dark. It was deep in measure, as I couldn’t see the surrounding area. As confused as I was, I decided climbing was my best option to take.

A few hours went by as I tried getting out the ditch.

Out of all the places to spawn in another world, a hole isn’t on the list.

If not for the fortunate encounter of a blonde haired boy, I would have still been there as I speak. He rescued me, helping me reach the top of the pit. Afterwards, when I thanked him, he understood nothing. He spoke to me, and I understood nothing.

And so, my second problem since coming to this strange place began: language barrier.

With the limit of communication between the two of us, we attempted to introduce ourselves. The boy pointed at himself and said Sirius… It meant the brightest star in the night sky in Greek.

I followed suit and copied him, pointing at myself, and said my name. It’s nothing special so I won’t waste my time saying it–mother would have said otherwise giving me a frown in disapproval.

We smiled. We solved the problem of how we could get each other's attention. The happiness didn’t last long hearing rustling in the bushes. In defense, Sirius took out his sword. The sight of it made me freeze, though not much the sword, but the way it appeared out of thin air.

My mind twisted, frustratedly trying to grasp logic to reason the sudden appearance of the sword. There’s just no way a sword can just materialize out of nothing. Was I going insane? I would've believed myself to be if not for the thing that came out the bushes belonging to imagination.

I think I passed out after seeing it because when I woke up again I saw Sirius' worried face. What I saw was a smile. A cute, yet very dangerous, slime. If this place could give me more to think about how stupid this all was, it would be the weird fashion of these clothes.

At that point I noticed that I wasn't wearing my school uniform. I wore a cloak. It’s not all I had–I think anyone would notice if they were buck naked, but that is the only noteworthy item I wore; the rest is plain and simple, except for the hair piece on the left side of my hair; It’s a crystal, surrounded by gold with engravings on it.

My thoughts at the moment reflected my confusion. Perhaps, I had miraculously found myself on the other side of the globe! …but that’s just hopeful thinking. I knew monsters weren’t meant to be real, nor these gravity-defiant clothes we wore existed.

Reality Dawned on me a few days later being graced with the same routine: Waking up thinking it was all a dream, greeting Sirius, eating, moving on in the plains to who-knows-where, encountering monsters, repeat.

That’s how it was, up until we fished out our third party member.

She is…something. At first, I worried the poor thing had drowned in the pond, but after making sure she was alright I discovered she could float. That killed my sense of urgency. 

How could a fairy, who literally floats, drown?

The fairy, who later gave us her name–Paimon, teached Sirius the language of this planet. Apparently, I was speaking a different language than the one I’m using right now. Sirius pointed it out after he learned to formulate sentences, albeit broken, but understandable nonetheless. 

Two months passed since then. 

We were sitting on a beach enjoying its offerings. Sirius and Paimon–the fairy we helped–were closer to the shore drawing images in the sand. I relaxed under the protection of a palm’s shade, not wanting to get a heat stroke from the scorching sun.

But this peacefulness did not last long.

A loud sound played, akin to that of a classic German symphony, short but loud enough to make my eardrums ring. It made me dizzy when I heard it. 

Some sort of vision, screen-like, projection, showed up in front of me when I heard the sound.

“So…what you're trying to say is that you fell here…from another world?” I heard Paimon speak.

Two shining stars, traveling from an unknown place onwards to the sky itself.

“But when you wanted to leave and go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”

A space between the clouds and stars was shown to me; there was Sirius, and someone that looked exactly like him in the opposite gender.

Then I saw her.

The god that Paimon mentioned; she was tall; her clothing were fit for the divinity she is; with her beauty, she’d be capable of killing the careers of hundreds of models if she were to join the modeling business.

“Outlanders, your journey ends here!” I shivered. Her voice was colder than any ice-cream that could give me a brain freeze on a winter’s day.

“Who are you?!” Sirius’ look-alike questioned.

“The sustainer of heavenly principles. The arrogation of mankind ends now,” the god summoned a red cube expanding its domain in the ground. It almost captured the outsiders, almost.

Jumping away from her attack, they each manifested a pair of glorious crystalized wings and swords; the sun shone through its glass making the wings seem like they were glowing; their swords–matching in style–live for the protection of their masters, and ready for battle; launching forward, they meet tentacles made of the same cube which tried to take them down. Every slash made by their opponent was evaded by them. They looked like butterflies dancing a duet; so serine and gorgeous.

But just like a game of chess, the enemy’s turn is finished, it is their turn to make a move. Readying their attack with all the power they can muster; they do a combined strike. Unfortunately for them, the god shielded their attack, rendering them hopeless to her.

The Queen eats a pawn.

With only a glare at the boy made him recoil. But to his dismay, his counterpart wasn't so fast. She was swallowed by the god’s swarm of red-and-black cube.

In a desperate attempt to free her, Sirius charged an attack with some power that is unknown to me. As fast as lighting, he was behind the god. The force of the power collided with the god making a big explosion.

Pawn moves.

Smoke was everywhere; Sirius catches his breath thinking the god was defeated.

His eyes widened, the fumes of the aftermath scurried off to reveal the god intact. Not even her clothes were affected. Intinctly, Sirius backed up, but found himself unable to move: the god had trapped him as well.

Queen moved, blocking the pawn from advancing. The game paused momentarily.

“Wait, don’t go!” His eyes looked desperately at the god, “give my sister back!”

In that instant, I could feel his emotions radiating through his voice. They barreled onto each other, it made me want to crawl into a ball and cry; anger, worry, sadness…the worst one of them was the feeling of separation–loss.

The scene continued, ignorant of my feelings.

“And just like that, the god took away my sister.”

I discovered Sirius had a sister; a twin intertwined in the stars.

“Some kind of seal was cast upon me, and I lost my power. So while we used to travel from world to world, we are now trapped here.”

“How many years ago was it? I don’t know… But I intend to find out,” the scene changed back to the sunny beach and the call of the ocean.

“I was completely alone from the time I woke — Right until I met you and [Name] two months ago.”

“Yeah, Paimon owes you guys for that. Otherwise Paimon likely would have drowned… So, Paimon would do her best to be a great guide for you two!” She vowed to be our travel guide across this unknown world.

Sirius looked out into the horizon with hopeful eyes for the future.

“We should head off.”

When the scene ended, Paimon and Sirius came to me to continue our journey.

“[Name] stop relaxing, and let’s go!” Paimon took me by the hand and lifted me up, dragging me to wherever we were going.

 I didn’t share what happened, or what I saw. It's a secret for now.

Currently, we are on our way to our next destination: Mondstadt City.

The city belongs to the nation of Mondstadt–funnily having the same name. According to Paimon, it is the closest civilization from our location. Before going further we stop atop a hill looking out into the plains and what awaits us in the future.

And that is where we found ourselves. Standing idly at the edge of a mountain looking out into the wilderness….

Wait…. Did—did I just have an internal dialogue? I stopped enjoying the view questioning my sanity, before being rudely interrupted by a certain gluttonous-fairy.

“Woaww! This is certainly something Paimon could get used to waking up to see each morning!” She said happily. “What do you think, Sirius?”

Oh, so we’re just going to ignore me, are we?

“I also like the view…” I glanced at her. She looked at me with a sorry-d face.

“We like it, Paimon. Thank you for ask,” Sirius responded calmly.

“See, Paimon? It wasn’t so difficult to include me.”

“Oh look!” she pointed at a lake in the middle of the valley, trying to divert the conversation. “That’s a Statue of The Seven!”

I was unimpressed, but Sirius followed her enthusiasm.

“What is it?” He asked, looking at what looked like a pillar in the middle of a pond.

“They are statues showing The Seven’s protection over the world,” she said proudly, “you can find them scattered all over the place. Among the seven gods, this one belongs to the god who controls the wind.”

“And that is important to know, because…?” I found the information useless. The gods in my world are practically non-existent, or hard to contact unless you're a devoted follower they’ve shown favoritism to. The gods in this world are no different.

“Because! It can help Sirius find information on his sister and clear up if that’s the god he’s looking for, and help you remember who you are!”

I nearly forgot. I made an excuse of losing my memories when Sirius became suspicious for knowing the language but not the places a while back. I need to keep that in mind. 

Darn you Sirius and your keen senses.

“...you’re right.”

“Of course Paimon is right!” So presumptuous she is. I’ll play along for now.

“Oh, what would come of me if not for the number-one-in-the-whole-world’s travel guide not being here with me?” I sounded overdramatic, yes, but she bought it and became even prouder.

“You would be a lost little Seelie, that’s for sure!”

Sirius giggled at our shenanigans. “Okay, Paimon is best travel guide. But, we need go. Will be late when arrive in city.”

“Oh no! We can’t have that. If we’re late, all the restaurants will be closed, and Paimon won’t be able to eat!” She was more worried about her empty stomach than monsters attacking us.

“*sight…* I guess the only thing inside that head of hers is food," I commented.

“Haha. Don’t let Paimon hear, she will eat you at night,” Sirius said with a jokingly-creepy voice.

“Ha-ha-ha… Getting eaten by a flying child is not on my experience list,” I said with sarcasm. “Anyway, we should follow her. We don’t want her drowning in another pond…”

The only response I got was him giggling. We ran after Paimon. She is not to be left alone for a second, lest you want your rations to go poof.

But nothing would have prepared us for what we would see in the sky that day.

“Are you confident we’ll be able to meet this god?” I said.

We managed to catch up to Paimon before she ran into any trouble. Now, we were closer to the statue we saw on the hill. 

“Paimon’s not sure… Paimon has never meet any of The Seven in person, so Paimon doesn't know if they’ll answer. But, it's worth a try!”

“Better than nothing,” Sirius looked at me for confirmation.

“It’s progress,” saying that earned me a smile from him.

I looked away from him admiring the species of animal I’ve never seen before. Even the fruits were different. Reminds me that I need to try all the food I can. When in a new world, try all you can, especially food.

I’m thinking like Paimon now…

Approaching the statue, I stopped and looked at it from a distance. My mouth was left agape at the stone’s craftsmanship; from far it looked rather plain, but on closer inspection it was as complex as understanding chess; it was large, having angel wings in the back; the silhouette was that of a person, with braids and a good figure.

Was this the god of wind?

Paimon went in front of us before I could marvel at it any longer. I’ll have time to gaze at it later.

“As we all know, poetry and language flow like the wind…” she began.

“Wowww, Paimon. Didn’t realize we had a poet in our group,” I clapped.

“Oh, for goodness sake! Leave Paimon alone!” her tiny legs stumped the air, showing our companions annoyance.

I raise my hands to shield myself from her wrath. “Fine, fine. I'll leave you alone for now.”

“What do you mean ‘for now’?!”

Before Paimon’s anger flowed out, Sirius decided it was the best time to take a dip in the pond, splashing Paimon and I.

“Ah!” Paimon tried to take cover. But a little too late, she was as wet as I was.

“Was that really necessary?” I asked, looking at myself.

He smiled at us. “You two stopped,” He swam to the minuscule island in the pond where the statue was.

Paimon shook like a wet puppy, splashing even more water on me.

“OI.” I was ignored.

She flew right above the pond joining Sirius, leaving me behind. Thanks Paimon.

Do I really have to go there? I’m already wet, so I might as well.

I took my shoe and socks off, I didn’t want them smelling bad later after they dried. My right foot was the first to make contact with the water. Nope. It was iced cold. Not going. No, with a little spice of Nuh-huh. Sirius could get all the attention from the statue all he wanted because, I. Ain't. Going.

“[Name]! You coming?” Sirius got my attention.

“No, I’m good! I’ll just…look around the area!” I told him, quickly putting my socks and shoes on.

“Okay, don’t go far!” He told me before focusing on Paimon and the statue.

Now. what to do, what to do?

I walked around the pond finding nothing of my interest. Then, a sound came into earshot. It was the same one I heard when the vision appeared back on the beach! Was I going to get another one?

I see as Sirius touches the statue, and a ball of…air? Leaps into his body. The star in his chest and his wrist that were previously black, are now filled and glowing with teal.

My perspective comes back to the spot I was formerly.

What was the thing that went into Sirius’s body? I wondered.

Suddenly, a zephyr flowed in my direction. It was playful, messing with my hair. Then it became strong and lifted my cloak. I was amazed at first, right before the little demon made it fall, slamming it against my face. I yelped in surprise. I could hear soft giggles in the breeze.

The wind was mocking me.

I won’t forget this, you little…

“[Name]! There you are!” Paimon shouted as she got closer to me.

“You don’t have to yell for me to hear Paimon, I’m not deaf,” I winced.

“Oops, sorry.”

“It’s fine. So, did you two discover something interesting?” I asked, pretending I didn’t just see an orb go into Sirius’s body.

They both nodded with big smiles.

“Yup! Sirius resonated with the statue, and is now able to control the power of Anemo!”

“Excuse me?” I said dumbfounded.

“Uhmm, Sirius resonated with the statue?” Paimon tilted her head in confusion.

“No yeah, I heard that part. What do you mean he can use the power of Anemo?”

Sirius put his hand out and concentrated. Then a small ball of air was formed.

I was gone for two seconds, and Sirius is already getting powers??? How is that fair? I want powers too!

To say I was mad would be an understatement. I was furious.

Couldn't it have been me instead? All those times where I dreamed of having cool magic and powers have been shattered. They’re so close, yet so far away. Darn you Sirius!

“Now I’m the only one without powers… Great.”

“In his defense, he didn’t know he would get them,” Paimon defended. “Maybe the gods didn’t give you any powers because you are mean, [Name],” Was she trying to provoke me? She is reminding me of someone annoying I know.

I gave her a nasty glare before letting it go. “Now, can you please show us the way to Mondstadt city. I’m getting hungry and tired of this day.”

“Oh, Paimon is too! Paimon can’t wait to taste the sweet delicacies of the nation of freedom…” her mouth watered at the thought of her stomach being full, “Let’s move then!”

Paimon took the lead down a path to a forest. If there was a way to avoid forests I would tell Paimon to make a detour, but it seems this is the only way to the city, so I stayed shut. 

From what I saw on the hill, the city is built on an island in the middle of a gigantic lake. It’s a good idea. It keeps enemies and monsters at bay. With only one entrance to the city, regulating who comes in and who goes out is as easy as pie!

Guess I was daydreaming about the city for a while, because before I knew it, we were approaching the forest. I could see a few signs from here.

 I always get fascinated by old methods of engineering cities.

“Wow! What is that!?” I heard Paimon ask, “There’s something huge, in the sky!”

“Woww…” Sirius let out in amazement. 

I turned to see what all the commotion was. Honestly, what was so amazing that both Paimon and Sirius were amazed.

“Huh?”

My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

It was a dragon….

 A damn dragon.

“HUHHHHH???????????”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @udretlnea, @taurus-caeli, @humongousoperatorhairdoopera. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for The Divine City: Story. Back to The Divine City: Story Master-List.

Go to Arcs, a related series.

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Authors note: Found any mistakes? Leave it down on the comments and I'll change it! If you have not been tag, please leave another comment about it, I can forget from time to time!

[pathetickuroo]

nekoma hcs i've been dreaming up since before the movie came out

- shibayama keeps a quote book

- there are some absolutely foul, heinous statements in there.

- he ends up passing it down to a first year before he graduates and has to explain uhh. quite a lot!

- "um. why does yaku call kai babygirl" "how about we stop talking for a while!"

- "'it tastes so good i would stick—' shibayama-san what IS this" "I'M JUST THE MESSENGER IT'S NOT MY FAULT"

- kuroo made a sliding scale diagram of every nekoma member from most to least catlike and refuses to accept any criticism

- in order (as far as more relevant characters go) it went kenma, fukunaga, kuroo himself, tora, yaku, kai, shibayama, lev, inuoka

- yaku in particular was deeply offended about his placement

- "you're like if a dog could be a cat" "FUCK you how is tora higher than me" "well that's because he's like if a cat could be a dog."

- inuoka has a special handshake with everyone

- the one with tora is the longest because they keep thinking of stuff to add and its really cool and not a distraction at all kuroo they promise

- it's 40+ steps at this point

- they keep having to restart because one of them forgets something

- kuroo just wants to do serving drills and he's getting tired of asking nicely

- fukunaga can will and does fall asleep anywhere

- like. anywhere. in a plane on a train on his desk at school on the floor in the library you name a location and i'd bet good money he's snoozed there. he fell asleep on the bench during a timeout once in the middle of a practice match. yaku found him in a cabinet one time

- some under the counter door closed curled up shit. made it look like sleeping on a cloud too i'm sure

- speaking of fukunaga. he carries around one of those little party noisemaker things around with him so he can use it when something makes him happy

- like those ones where you blow in them and the paper unrolls and it honks or whatever. you know the sound idk how to describe it

- he's exploring creative methods of communication so he doesn't have to force himself to talk all the time :)

- every time kuroo sees a cat he HAS to meow at it, it isn't a question of if he will or not, he Has To. it's like a compulsion

- it's the alternative to baby-talking them (which he also does sometimes)

- when ppl send cat pics in the gc he types meow and hits send

- he wants to be POLITE and say HELLO and since cats can't speak japanese, kuroo will speak cat

- he gets down to their eye level too or at LEAST crouches. he doesn't wanna frighten them

- lev tried to keep the blood speech alive after the third years graduated

- "ok we're blood--" "you're doing it WRONG" "WHATT WHATTTTT"

- he tries to come up with something new but gives up bc he can't stop thinking of vital organs

- "ok ok kenma i got it this time. so we're like the liver--" "tora i'm gonna kill this guy"

- touchiest volleyball team known to man

- hugs, heads on shoulders or in laps, holding hands, shoulder touches, patting each other on the back or the head, arms around shoulders, cuddling at sleepovers they're doing it ALL

- totally indiscriminate too. if you attend nekoma high school and join the boys' volleyball club you will not be touch starved i can tell you that

- you know how when you have a litter of kittens they all kind of sleep in a pile

- this is a maneuver nekoma hits often, i think

- it turns into a catch-all solution for like. anything

- didn't get enough sleep? cat pile. finals are coming up? cat pile. forgot your phone at home? cat pile. it rained during the school day and you got the bottom hem of your pants wet on the way to afternoon practice? cat pile. bored as hell? guess what! cat pile

- it sort of happens in the gym before/after practice just because it's the most convenient option, but it definitely happened in the bleachers after the dumpster battle too

[felassan]

Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕

Rogue Rook, Harding, Neve and Varric in Minrathous. A party of four temporarily, though the third non-Rook person is automatic and quest-related. Do you think this is Docktown (in Minrathous. the cranes or wooden pulleys give it that kind of impression) from another angle, or is Docktown in this image across the water from this point? Either way it's cool to see the same general location, in this case a city, both at night and during the day. It's raining and that makes me excited to experience different weather and environmental effects in different locations. :> Also the contrast of Minrathous in the rain here vs Minrathous when it's dry in the Docktown image. :> Maybe there is day/night cycles...?

Are the NPCs on the ground members of Tevinter society who live on the streets (there was an interactable NPC at the start of the gameplay reveal video whom it looked like Rook had the option of speaking to and giving a coin), or were they impacted during the attack of demons recently on this part of Minrathous and that's why they are on the ground? this scene looks to be from the same segment of gameplay as was shown in the gameplay reveal video, around the 10 minute mark. they have just 'recruited' Neve and are about to go and check out Solas' hideout beneath the statue on the right, Our Lady of Victory. the statue is of Andraste; one of her titles in the Chant of Light is Lady of Perpetual Victory. she has her arm outstretched as if hearing or beseeching the Maker. I'm interested to see more of Imperial/Tevene Andrastian belief and how it compares to the southern form of Andrastianism.

the magical 'neon' street lights and signs, rain, night-time, streets, etc remind me of this DA4 concept art, which we also know shows Minrathous. It's cool to see concept art realized as in-game art like this. in the center is a large tear in the Veil, like a gaping wound, which we know is caused as a result of Solas' ritual and which demons are coming through at this point. overhead is the floating building with its spotlights. I hope we can visit the floating building in the game. :D

is the long bridge a magic monorail or something, or just a bridge?

In this image we see a bar or tavern-type place. from the filename where this was originally posted, we know this to be situated in Docktown, Minrathous. Could this be the bar where the game starts off in Minrathous (where Rook has the choice of intimidating a bartender or not), the bar in which Varric and Harding are taking part in a bar fight in in the character trailer? or maybe this is the Swan, the tavern Corinne mentioned as being in Minrathous which has good tavern music? an article also mentioned a pub in the streets of Minrathous which has a dozen NPCs in it and which is reached via a wide, winding pathway. probably at least two of these various bar/pubs are actually the same one being described/shown in a different way hh. :D the screenshot has Tevene-y touches in places, like the vases with snakes and snakey patterns on them and the pointy chairs.

now that we know that every NPC in the world apart from main characters like party members was made using the same CC as we will use to create Rook, I'm looking extra-hard with interest at NPCs in images of the game like these to try and see e.g. some of the hairstyles that there are. in this image for example it looks like multiple different hairstyles can be seen. there are human and elven NPCs present, and a bouncer or guard at the steps. a cat sits by the fire. near the middle on the table it looks like a hookah, which we've seen before in northern Thedas, like in Antiva. only, this one has snakes in its design. which, yeah, we're in Tevinter. ^^ (this also makes me think of the Viper and the Shadow Dragon faction snake symbol, and wonder where their base of operations is.. Docktown is Neve's home, and she's affiliated with the Shadow Dragons.)

Necropolis Halls [known from a file name], Nevarra. a flock of bats or birds flies overhead. Is the ceiling here a ginormous rib-cage in design or am I just seeing things? :D I'm amazed by the scale, grandiosity, and verticality in the design here. in the foreground, the party is made up of mage qunari Rook holding a really cool staff, Lucanis and Emmrich. I feel like, of course taking Emmrich with you when you explore the Necropolis is a good idea!! from behind, Lucanis' cape getup look like folded corvid wings. qunari Rook has a cool robe or cape, and is that his kneeguard/boot or does Lucanis has a knife or dagger strapped to his lower leg? btw, how many knives does this guy have. :D he already fights with two swords/daggers, and it looks like he has a knife strapped to his chest in this image too. I wonder also if this is the same qunari Rook as here? their staff and horns look similar, but the hair color isn't right.

on the right, we can see urns which look like they have the top halves of skulls as their lids. the bottom row of teeth are present on the non-lid part of the urn. the same asset can be seen on the right and left of the foreground here, which going by that and the tall skeletons in the background like we can see in this image, is also a picture in the Necropolis. the giant skeleton/undead statues (not unlike here), dressed in tatters (maybe they are designed to evoke bandages, like the Nevarran mummification death practises?) look like they are maybe holding torches or lights at their chests, as they are lit from around there in sickly-green 'undead vibes' light. the way their arms and hands are placed look like a person who is resting in a coffin. and if you look at the texture of their chest/ribcages, it's the same as the texture on the pillars they are fixed to, as if the pillars are rows of bones/ribcage shapes from the ground to the ceiling.

especially after Down Among The Dead Men in TN, I've been itching to explore the Necropolis!! lets goo.

Necropolis Halls again [known from a file name], Nevarra. the lighting here is different - it's darker, and the green necromancy-vibe lighting has increased. perhaps the previous Necropolis Halls image is from closer to the entrance of the place, and this one is deeper inside? the Necropolis has public open-air gardens and then lower crypts, to which access is restricted, deeper inside. it's eerie, like the vibe here, like that dragon dissection could be taking place just out of view through the green-lit doorway in this image. even the trees look dead and grasping.

maybe the green fire-torches here are Veilfire? and there are all kinds of vases and stuff - it gives the sense of canopic jars, like ancient Egyptians used to store viscera in during the mummification process, and of urns (Nevarrans prefer mummification to cremation ofc, but yea irl in the 'aesthetic vibes sense of a crypt full of undead', way, it reminds me of urns filled with peoples' ashes). when they said we would go to "to grim and gothic areas", one of the gothic-type ones was surely the Necropolis, right? ^^

this time the party looks to be human Rook, Harding and Neve. again the skeleton statues have the coffin-resting type pose, and the sense of bandages hanging from them and wound round their arms. and again the scale, verticality etc is amazing! the designs on the giant skull in the center interest me - is this just aesthetic design/Nevarran art, or is there an arcane aspect/function to it? lastly, from these two images it seems like maybe hexagons are an aspect of Nevarran art/design?

[nana-ur]

Corruption: Intro.

Pairings: Yandere!Taehyung x Reader || Jimin x Reader

Genre: Yandere, Romance (?), Psychological, Angst, Smut

Disclaimer: I do not condone, nor support or encourage anything I write in this fanfiction. It is purely fiction, means of entertainment, and should be treated as such. I do not think any of the BTS members would act remotely anything like what is represented here, which is why it’s called fiction. Other than that, please enjoy, and read at your own discretion. 

Trigger warnings and Tags; +18, Yandere elements, Possessive and Obsessive behaviors, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy idealization, Drug and Substance Abuse, Mommy/Daddy Issues, Slow Burn, Smut (in future chapters), Artist!Tae, Rich!Tae, Lowkey SugarDaddy!Tae, BDSM, Power Dynamics, Manipulation, Slight age difference, Naive!Reader, Easy to Manipulate!Reader, Virgin!Reader, Virginity Kink, Corruption kink.. (There’s gonna be a LOT of kinks in here for further chapters, so I’ll save the wall of text LOL.) 

Intro  Part. 1   Part. 2   Part. 3   Part. 4  Part. 5  

Boring, he thought.

Everything about this stupid fucking event was excruciatingly boring.

First off, he didn't even want to be here. His mother forced him to come, practically dragging him outside by his own ear. 

"If you still want me to sponsor your pathetic little project, it'd be smart of you to come along with me this evening." Ah yes, the typical threats of estranging him financially in hopes of him spending time with her. Typical Mrs. Kim. 

The outing was a simple event where selected students who had won his fathers Academic Scholarship were rewarded a ‘party’ for their hard work and efforts. The scholarship was offered to college students who managed to make the highest ranking grades throughout their entire university. Impressive, to say the least, which is why each student present was granted $45,000 USD straight towards their college funds.

That sort of funding was simply pocket change for a man like his father.

His father was the CEO of Kim’s Legal Law Firm. It happens to be the third largest law firm in the country. Taehyung’s father has a tender soft spot for college students, especially ones who attend the same school he graduated from. Which is why he did events like this yearly, specifically for them.

But Taehyung? He could give two shits about a "Scholarly Party". He wasn't in school, nor did he want to be tied down by the ropes of education ever again. High School was more than enough, and that was years ago. He barely graduated. Though, after having his parents ``talk" to the principal of his private school, he suddenly went from having a D grade point average, to being at the top of his class in under an hour. He remembers clearly how Kim Namjoon glared daggers in his skull when he walked up the stairs leading to the stage at their highschool graduation, accepting his honors award that rightfully belonged to him instead. Taehyung couldn't really blame him, either. He'd be pissed off too if someone's rich parents paid off a school to make their irresponsible child graduate, whilst stealing his honors award that would've surely benefited him if he tried to enroll in college. 

Taehyung wasn't stupid by all means, no. He was actually pretty fucking smart. It's just he hates doing work, and he hates being told what to do. So instead of attending classes, doing homework, and going to exam days; he skipped classes to smoke weed, do things he wasn't supposed to do, and fuck around. What was stopping him? Surely not his parents. They barely bat an eye when he stayed away from home for days on end when he was only 15 years old. He remembers walking in after being away for 5 days straight to his dad barely sparing him a glance, and his mother wrapping herself up in a scarf so she could go out for the night. She walked right past him, not saying a word. 

Easy to say that his parents had their priorities straightened out already, and Taehyung wasn't one of them. But he doesn't care. 

Or that's what he tries to tell himself when he has emotional outbursts, or when he gets arrested for DUIs, or when he gets questioned for being under the influence, and more outlandish things his parents had authorities shove under a rug. 

His parents had money and generational wealth. Taehyung could do anything, say anything, and be whatever he wanted. So who cares if his parents were a little emotionally unavailable? He didn't care. Nope. Not at all. Not one bit.

But sometimes, just, sometimes, he finds himself yearning for motherly love. He finds himself wishing he had a father to look up to, instead of the stone cold businessman his own father was.

He desperately wanted to be loved by someone.

And he hated that feeling. It made him feel weak.

The feeling that gnawed at the emptiness inside of his own chest. The empty void that hurts and caves into himself whenever he sees someone receive the unconditional love he could only wish for. 

Oh, how he wanted someone to love.

To hold, to cherish, to smother with affection, to be loyal to and never let go. 

Never let go. 

Taehyung has had his fair share of relationships, of course. He was pretty, tantalizing, rich, and he likes to think of himself as quite the charmer. 

Those relationships weren’t too serious or noteworthy, honestly. Most of the women he dated were trophy girlfriends his friends set him up with. Most just dated him for status, sex, and money. Surprisingly, he had no problem with this. 

It's just how the world works, isn't it?

No matter how pretty or sweet, though, he's never fallen in love with any of those women.

He's never been in love at all.

He’s felt the intense feelings of infatuation and lust, but none of those feelings lasted for more than 2 weeks. He often finds himself getting bored of the same repetitive types of women that came into his life. 

There were two categories of women that Kim Taehyung seems to attract. 

One being the typical spoiled woman with daddy’s black card. This type didn’t need him at all for financial reasons, they were set for life, and possibly even the afterlife. They always had a certain aura to them, that look in their eyes, that pep in the way they walk. All of which seems to remind him of his own mother. Yeah, he knows it’s weird. It’s weird to date women that remind you of your mother, but Taehyung was the farthest thing from normal. 

What did Sigmund Freud say? Taehyung would think about the little bit of psychology knowledge he gained when he used to half pay attention in class often. Something about how mommy issues can lead down an unhealthy path of romantic relationships if not addressed in therapy, and so on. He thought it was quite interesting how he felt called out at that moment, which is why psychology became one of his favorite subjects while he was still in school. He may have skipped a lot, but when he was there, he tried to pay attention to the lectures.

The second category of women who Taehyung attracts were models. Not the runway, nepo baby models everyone sees on social media. No, not those. 

The models who were oh so pretty, but also had that vacant lost look in their eyes. They were signed to agencies who barely let them on the runway. Not because of their looks, but because of their raging reliance on drugs and substances. The walking stereotype of a ‘The Weeknd’ song is how he would describe these women. 

These women were with him for a completely different reason than the others. 

Taehyung was a bit guilty when it came to having a “hero complex”. He isn’t a saint by any means; he’s done his fair share of substances. He was peer pressured to do a lot of things when he was younger. 

Though, whenever he gets with these women, his goal is to “fix” them by giving them endless attention, affection, and care. He was always there when they went through withdrawals, when they were puking into plastic bags because they failed to eat prior to drowning themselves in narcotics and powder. He would rub their backs, help them take a cold shower, fix them soup, and hold them until they fell asleep. 

Taehyung had a soft spot for these women. Because he understands.

He understood the pain. The desperation to feel nothing. 

To fill that empty void with something. Something. 

These women were crying for help, so why not help them?

It filled him with a sense of importance after helping these women get clean. It was like he was healing his inner child in a sick, twisted way. Though, like most things, those relationships came to an end.

Although it was never really his fault these relationships would end. 

He was too “demanding”, “controlling”, “possessive”, he’s been told by most, if not all, of the women he’s been involved with.

They never truly accepted him for who he was. They were the foolish ones, not him. 

If they just understood him, if they would just understand.

Which is why he’s never fallen in love before. 

That was the ‘love’ life of Kim Taehyung. It was sad and depressing, but it’s something he had to get used to. It was all he was ever exposed to growing up. It was all he knew.

Maybe one day, things would be different. Happen differently.

Perhaps, authentically, unlike his past.

Perhaps he could fall in love.

He dreamed about such things. It would keep him up at night with a beating heart.

He was a disgusting hopeless romantic. 

“Are you paying attention?” Taehyung quickly blinked out of his short-lived daze and cocked his head down towards the voice. It was his mother, looking at him with those judgemental eyes he once used to hide from. Now, it doesn’t scare him anymore. 

But it made him feel significantly small nonetheless. 

God, he hated being here. It was so tacky.

Everyone was instructed to wear white. Though Taehyung, obviously, chose to be a little shit to piss off his mom and wore a black turtleneck, with a black blazer and even blacker slacks. His black hair was styled to where his fringe was covering most of his forehead, and slightly his eyes which were a light gray today, due to his contacts. Black on black.

He nodded his head towards his mother, ushering her to continue on with what she was saying even though he dissociated for most of it. 

Something he learned how to do at a very young age with ease.

“As I was saying,” she snapped, “your father wants you to greet some of the students. It would be beneficial for you to ask questions about college life, possibly even make some new friends tonight," Taehyung groaned internally, rolling his eyes in a way that his mother wouldn’t catch on. Here comes the “you need to go to school and study” talk. He would always shut it down. He’s 27 years old, too old to even be considered a senior at this point. 

To please his mother and to make her stop talking, he walked away from the railing he was leaning on and looked down into his wine glass, swirling it around to watch the red liquid create ripples. 

Looking up, he immediately spots his father speaking to what he presumes to be a student. The student was dressed in a plain, silky short back-out white gown with spaghetti straps. 

With her rear side facing his direction, it was hard to make out what the conversation was about. Maybe his father was being the creep he always was when it came to hanging around girls decades younger than him.

He can usually tell by the look in his fathers eyes, which seemed innocent to others, but Taehyung knew better than that. He knew his father well, even if he had no desire to. 

But all he could think about was how enticing she looked, even from behind where her face was hidden. The curve of her torso allowed the silky dress to hug her body perfectly, creating a silhouette that would give any Greek sculpture a run for its money. Dragging his eyes up and down her figure, he finds himself absentmindedly outlining the perimeter of her body with his irises, imprinting it into his own memory. 

Taehyung had an excellent photographic memory. 

It was strange, really. He was never someone to be enticed by “energy”, and he was never one to approach women. Not that he didn’t want to, it’s just that he didn’t have to. Any woman he was interested in came to him first without fail. But something was pulling him forward, beckoning him to approach the mysterious girl.

Which is exactly what he did.

His steps were calculated, precise. Making good first impressions was a piece of cake for Kim Taehyung, something he was often praised for from time to time. Which is probably the reason why his parents forced him to come to this tedious event. They used him as the token golden boy, utilizing his charms and making him talk to perverted, older guests that came to their events, hoping that he’d win their favor in exchange that his father gets to strengthen his connections. They started doing this when he turned 18, making use of his good looks and people skills.

Earning his parents' respect as their son isn’t easy. Especially a son who belonged to the Kim family. He had to attend the same university as his father, and to not make a mockery out of the family name. In which, he failed to do both. Saying he has their respect now is a stretch, but they found him to be useful when it came to winning over disgusting old CEOs and Chaebols. 

His brother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He graduated from university with high honors, even went ahead and attended graduate school as well, then he went to law school. He completed all of this by the time he turned 30. 

Taehyung appreciates that his brother took up all the responsibility, and the burden of expectations off of his shoulders.

However,

Deep inside, real deep inside, he could only dream of being the center of his parents' life the way Seokjin was. They loved him. Doted on him. Spoiled him. Gave him all the extra love and affection that should’ve gone to Taehyung instead. 

As a teenager, he was resentful towards his brother for the obvious showcase of favoritism his parents did. They didn’t even try to hide it. They would compare the two any chance they got; rubbing in the accomplishments of his elder brother in his face, reminding him that he will amount to nothing in life. 

Nothing but a burnt out artist, is what his father says. 

But whatever, Taehyung didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Hello, son,” His father greeted him once he noticed Taehyung's formidable figure saunter over, the tone of his voice evidently curt and strict in contrast to the lighthearted conversation he was having with the young lady. 

Ah, great. It was just as he guessed. His father was being a creep, and was actively flirting with this poor girl. Good thing Taehyung was here to save her from his fathers inappropriate stares and invasive questions.

Sparing his father a tight lipped smile, he walks past the young lady to align himself right next to his father, finally.

Finally, he could see her face.

And wow.

Everything around him became blurred, every sound that tried to meet his ears became all jumbled together, like indecipherable radio signals.

All he could focus on was you.

You.

You.

With his unexpected appearance, you instinctively looked up at him, his gray eyes meeting your own. He tilted his head to the side and gave you a cheeky grin, in which you reciprocated with your own, skittish smile.

That smile. 

He’ll never forget a smile like that, that’s for sure. 

The apples of your cheeks were rosy with dew and the afterglow of being in such a warm venue. Taehyung thought the sight of it was absolutely breathtaking. 

His gray eyes stayed on yours, unwavering. He intensely scanned your face, jotting down each little detail into his mind. 

Noticing the fervor of his gaze, you tore your eyes away from the fervent unwarranted stare-off and looked down at your feet, your face flushing with heat.

Aw.

He wanted to look into your eyes for a little bit longer. 

But that’s okay, he’ll get your attention one way or another.

After all, he just couldn’t help himself. 

Your face was just his type.

Would it be a stretch for him to say everything about the way you look was just his type? Perhaps, but Taehyung was known for moving extremely fast.

In more ways than one. 

“I’d like for you to meet Ms.____,” his father uttered out your first name. It sounded like a symphony to Taehyung's ears. A pretty face and a pretty name, huh.

How unfair. 

Your name began to replay like a broken record inside of his head. Sounding out each syllable internally, his tongue dragged across the side of his cheek before testing the name out loud in a hushed whisper.

The way your name began to reiterate persistently in his head – It would drive any sane person crazy.

Good thing Taehyung was the latter. 

“Well, Ms.___,” Taehyung scooped up your hand into his own, hoping the abrupt swift action will bless him with your soft gaze once again.

And it did.

With wide eyes, your neck nearly snapped as you rose your head from its previous position of looking down. You stared at him with big doe eyes, confusion swirling in your irises. 

That expression on your face was dangerous.

Especially for a man like him.

He brought your delicate hand up towards his red tinted lips, all while maintaining eye contact. He could feel you trembling in the palm of his hand.

What were you doing to him?

He felt slightly bewitched by you. He’s met his fair share of gorgeous women. Hell, he’s even met some of the world's most infamous models. 

But none of them compared to you. 

None of them had this effect on him. 

None of them took his breath away like this.

None of them at all.

He placed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, a mellow smile spreading across his face when his lips met your soft, warm skin. 

“It’s a pleasure, pretty girl,” He whispered loud enough for you to hear, his breath fanning onto the skin of your hand. 

He slowly backed away, not letting your hand go just yet, leading it downwards but still holding it firm in his grip. He had to savor your reaction before he retracts completely.

He could tell you were wary with the sudden public display of affection, especially right in front of his own father. But truly, Taehyung didn’t give a fuck. He was someone who didn’t care if anyone was watching, especially his own father. Social anxiety or upholding social status wasn’t something for him to worry about.

And you’ll come to find that out very soon. 

Sooner than you think. 

Your eyes glossy, blown out, and your mouth was slightly gaped open from shock; it sent a concealed chill down his spine. Was a pretty girl like you not used to such things? The thought alone baffled him. 

Impossible, he thought. 

“U-uh–,” you stammered out incohesive words, your eyes darting between him and his father, worry, confusion, and conflicting attraction clear in your eyes. It was cute, how worried you got over something as small as a hand kiss. 

“Nice… to meet you too? Mister…” you were dodging every attempt at eye contact Taehyung was throwing your way, but he wasn’t having it. Wherever you looked, his head would follow with a tilt and a smirk, teasing you in a playful way you weren’t used to. 

“Taehyung, but for you? My name can be whatever your heart desires.” 

He’s used that cringy pick-up line many times. Most of the time it was just to please the other person, give them something they want to hear. Usually never what he wanted.

But he meant it when he said it to you. 

That same, irresistible nervous smile crept back onto your face at his words. Your neck once again flushing hot. This time, though, your eyes were focused on how his hand was still grasping yours. 

Taehyung took this as an opportunity to grab another reaction out of you, he began rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

At this, you jumped softly, clearly not used to someone touching you like this.

Or touching you at all.

And for some reason, that thought alone excited him like nothing else. 

Suddenly, Taehyung felt his fathers hand creep onto his shoulder.

Unexpectedly this annoyed him.

More than it usually does. 

“It seems like you are already acquainting yourself with Miss.___,” his father spoke in a way that seemed placate to others, but Taehyung knew better. He was being a passive aggressive shithead. 

“Oh you know, just doing what you wanted me to, Father,” Taehyung quickly retorted back, a tight smile forming on his lips. 

His father had the nerve to get pissy as if he didn’t force him to attend this mundane event in the first place? Yeah, sure, Taehyung was grabbing the attention of the girl his father was openly flirting with, but didn’t he see how uncomfortable you were? 

He could tell how tense the mood was when he got closer to the two of you earlier. The way you were holding your left arm with your right hand, folding into yourself as his father got closer and closer to your personal bubble. 

You clearly weren’t interested.

At Taehyung’s smart aleck comment, his father shot him a look that only he caught, and walked away slowly after retracting his hand from his shoulder. 

It was better to not make a scene where people were watching. His father was extremely anal on how he was perceived; he wanted others to see him in a specific type of light. He was probably on his way to bother some other college student, anyway. Either way, Taehyung was glad he left.

Finally, old fuck. 

It’s about damn time he developed erectile dysfunction or something, how old is he again?

Regrouping himself, he finally let it sink in that you two were finally alone. 

Finally,

“Oh god, did I,” you stammered, “did I just make it really awkward? Oh my god.”

How peculiar. It was obvious that his father was the one who ruined the mood to begin with, but you resorted to blaming yourself instead. 

How peculiar. 

“Sorry I’m just not, you know… used to this,” you gestured your free hand around the venue you two were currently in the middle of. Everything was glistening with marble, glitter, blinding shades of white, and overly priced furniture. To anyone not used to such a lifestyle, it would of course be overwhelming. 

But to Taehyung, it just seemed tacky. 

Tacky and distasteful. 

If it were up to him, the whole idea of everything being white would be thrown out the window.

What’s up with rich people and their odd obsession with things white and marbley?

“Not used to try-hard rich people and their shitty interior designing?” Taehyung quipped, a smirk present on his lips as he raised his wine glass for a sip.

“What?! No! No. I, well… no!” the screws in your head were visibly malfunctioning, fighting with each other, trying to decide whether or not you should directly insult the interior of the venue right in front of him. Given the fact that he was the son of the man who invited you to such an event, and granted you a scholarship.

And possibly the son of the man who came up with the interior design of everything you’re looking at.

A chuckle rumbled in Taehyung's chest as he watched your internal and outward struggle. He could tell by the quick glint in your eyes that you agreed with him, but were too afraid to say something that would cause conflict. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his wine glass once again to his lips, taking a swig of it while he looked you up and down over the rim.

To his surprise, you still haven’t retracted your hand from his.

Lowering his drink, his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek once again out of habit. 

You still weren’t looking at him. 

“You know, it’s rude to refuse eye contact, pretty girl,” he said matter-of- factly in a teasing tone, fauxing disappointment.

“Oh,” you breathed out, clearly flustered at the recurring pet name and with the fact that he just called out your inability to maintain eye contact. 

With hesitancy, you looked up at him, your eyes shifting left and right a few times before settling on his intense gray orbs. 

It seemed to have surprised you that he was staring at you intensely this whole time because the moment your eyes connected with his, your body shifted. To his disappointment, you slowly retracted your hand from his, putting it back to your side. 

With his now free hand, Taehyung lifted it towards your face. And like any normal person, you flinched and moved backwards a bit. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

Cute.

But, he couldn’t hold himself back.

He had to do something. 

He tested the waters first, nudging his fingers against your jaw, caressing the outline of the bone before cupping your right cheek. His hand gently melts onto your warm, soft skin. He looks at you intently, deep in thought.

You were so beautiful.

Dangerously so. Taehyung wasn’t the type to be bewitched like this. 

His fingers caressed your warm face, your wide eyes trembling at him with uncertainty, confusion. He dragged his thumb from your cheek down to the supple lumps of your lips. He began gliding the digit left and right on your bottom lip before slowly pulling down on the muscle, revealing just a peak of your bottom teeth and the soft wet flesh on the inside, your gums a pretty pink. 

Even with all of this going on, he still maintained eye contact with you. His gaze never wavering. 

And his mind began to wander. 

It began to wander to menacing thoughts. 

Taehyung was known for having… an acquired taste, when it came to certain things. He’s been told so by many women in his life. It’s not like he wanted to like those things, it just happened by default. Things that excite him, that shouldn’t excite him. Things that he likes to do to others, to the people he’s interested in. Things such as bending and twisting them at his will, pulling a leg here, doing a thing there, just to pull a reaction out of them. He knew such things were red flags, concerning even. But if it was between two consenting adults, what was the problem?

Which is why he began to envision this woman he just met a few minutes ago sucking on his thumb. He imagined the look you would have in your eyes; innocent, glossy, excited, scared, unsure. He imagined the soft, spongy texture of your tongue, slick on his finger, how you’d open up for him like a good girl. And those eyes. They were dangerous, Taehyung decided. Looking at them for too long already had him spiraling with these thoughts.

You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?

Like a twig, he snapped out of his daze. His eyes finally focusing on you quickly taking a step back, wiping away the inkling of spit that dripped out of your mouth as a result of your bottom lip being pried open. With a red face, you looked at him, completely disoriented and confused.

Taehyung didn’t even notice the wetness on his thumb, or the spittle that trickled down the digit onto his knuckle.

Ah, oops.

“W-what was that-,” you stuttered out, your hand clasping against your mouth in shock, eyes frantically looking around, relief sagging on your shoulders when you noticed no one was looking. But there was a cloud hanging over your head, weighing down on you. 

A cloud you didn’t quite understand.

Just yet.

“Become my muse.”

“What-,” You blinked at him, completely caught off guard.

“Let me paint you. Be my muse.” He cut you off before you could question him any further. 

Taehyung had already made up his mind the moment he set eyes on you. Even when your back was facing him; he already knew what he wanted.

And Taehyung was a man known for getting exactly what he wanted. 

[its-isover]

Li Zhao Yu had zero doubt in his mind that he was, indeed, one of the best. After all, not just anybody could hit radiant in Valorant. He leaned back in his chair lazily, stretching with a yawn. His gaze flickered to his webcam and then back to his screen. His career was a crisp green carpet, with him fragging well enough to be the top or at least second highest fragger each match.

“I think that’s about enough for today, chat,” he muttered into his mic as he rubbed his eyes. It had been…five hours? He swore it did not feel like he had been playing for that long. Unfortunately, right as he was about to log off, he heard a little ping from his phone. Picking it up, his expression turned to one of mild annoyance. With a little “tsk”, he put his headphones back on.

“Change of plans, chat, seems like a few friends want to grind comp for a bit. We’re in for some…five-stack shenanigans.”

With a few final stretches for his shoulders and neck, he joined his friend’s party, the four already present members waiting for him. His eyes narrowed at their lack of rank.

“Weh, what gives?”

“I needed help carrying some new friends,” his friend responded dryly. Li only sighed, “Whatever, man, just don’t make me derank.”

As it would turn out, lower elo was absolutely god awful atrocious to him. Li had half a mind to cut the stream, almost certain he would get into trouble of some kind for the level of toxicity he was displaying. Granted, he only said about a third of what he really thought in team chat, but given the words circulating through his head, he had little doubt what he was saying was awful enough.

“Bai chi ya…zhen me wu yong…” Frankly, he was way too tilted to be playing. Did that stop him though? Of course not. Because Li Zhao Yu was not a quitter. The night was off to a horrible end, and three matches in, Li was throwing in the towel. “I’m done with this,” he had declared, leaving the party and slumping back in his chair. He ran his hand through his hair, eyes shut and brows furrowed, pulling his hair back and ruffling it, leaning forward, sighing, and ruffling his hair again. “I’m done,” he repeated. Done with what, exactly, he did not bother to elaborate. He got up to stretch a bit, finally feeling the dull ache in his neck. The pain absolutely was not worth it. Playing with those idiots? Deranking this much? Disgusting. He had never seen this much red in his career since he…he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done this badly. Except it wasn’t even his fault. How could it be, when he was the match MVP in almost all of them? He should stop. He should get some rest, some time away from the blasted game. But no.

Against his better judgement, he hopped back into solo queue. There were various reactions to his decision in chat, ranging from “You sure about this?” to “I really think you ought to rest” to “Hell yeah! We don’t end on a loss!” Not that any of that mattered to him. Li felt like shit, and since it was caused by numerous losses, his only logical solution was to garner just as many, if not more, victories to compensate himself emotionally.

What a stupid decision. These random guys he ended up with on his teams weren’t much better. Left to his own devices, he very well might have played through the night to recover all his lost rr. It took his roommate, Ryo, pulling the plug on his PC for him to go to bed. With that abrupt end to his stream, Li hauled himself under the covers, passing out as his frustrations turned to exhaustion and overcame him.

Maybe Ryo was right, all he needed was a little rest. Li thought, until he had breakfast and Ryo said he was going out with Kirra. “You’re not gonna duo with me?” had been Li’s first reaction, breadcrumbs dropping as he dropped his bao onto the table. Ryo only shook his head. “Maybe tonight,” Ryo offered. “Maybe you should come along, the fresh air might make you less insufferable.”

His suggestion was met with a sharp glare, lavender eyes piercing through dark onyx ones. Li looked nothing short of scandalised at the notion of his grind being interrupted. Was he expected to agree? Hell no. There was nothing Ryo could say to convince him to go out just to be a third wheel on his roommate’s date. Li was sure Ryo knew him well enough to know that, so he wasn’t really sure why he had bothered asking. However, that clarified itself when Kirra showed up, an unfamiliar face in tow as she declared they would all be going on a double date.

It was awkward, to say the least. Ryo and Kirra walked on ahead, hand in hand, leaving you behind with Li. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if Li wasn’t already bothered, but there was no way of knowing that as you walked beside him, trying to gauge what would be an appropriate distance to put between the two of you. It didn’t help that Ryo and Kirra took the dog, which left you and Li with even less of a buffer.

How does one start a conversation with a stranger your friend set you up with when they look completely disinterested? One option is always to just…not. For better or worse, you weren’t a quitter (though not to Li’s extent). Just your luck that you managed to hit the topic of Valorant. By the way he perked up subtly, you had to assume it was of interest to him. Progress was progress, and you were quite satisfied with how you’d managed to chip the ice. That is, until the dreaded question arose.

“What’s your rank?” Li asked, seemingly nonchalantly, but the sideward glances he shot you told you otherwise. Subtle as it was, his gaze wasn’t one so easily ignored, and you happened to notice the pale lilac of his irises rather acutely. You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck in hopes he’d catch onto your awkwardness and change the topic. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was socially inept or just insensitive, because rather than act according to your hopes, he’d turned his head to look at you properly, tilting his head slightly as though prompting you to get on with your answer.

“I don’t have a rank, I don’t play comp,” you replied sheepishly. You swore you saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face, but by the time you’d blinked, his features had returned to their usual bored expression. “We can hit an internet cafe after lunch, I’ll duo with you and we’ll find your rank.”

His offer was more of a statement - no, an instruction. You felt a smidge of betrayal, not quite sure you like Kirra’s boyfriend’s roommate very much in spite of her insistence that he’d be a good match for you. Then again, you didn’t think it was her fault since you don’t exactly love Ryo very much either when she thinks he’s brilliant. Perhaps this was just another clash of opinions, since you’re sure she meant well.

Li seemed to have little interest in much else, to your mild dismay. While he would respond to any conversation topic you decided to jump into, he never quite seemed nearly as interested as he did when you brought up Valorant. Until music, that is. At which he promptly asked to see your playlist, his brows furrowing as he found little common ground. With a murmured promise to send you a few of his playlists and then some he'd try curate more towards your taste, he returned your phone.

If only your awkward date ended with a walk in the park. Lunch was an equally tense affair, with Li mostly feigning disgust at the couple with you, and you trying your best to avoid his gaze. As lovely as his eyes were, there was something cold and piercing about them that made you feel like he'd see right through you, and you weren't yet sure if you enjoyed it very much. Worse still was the way his hand found its way to your waist immediately after dropping enough money to cover both your meals in Ryo’s hands as he steered you away after lunch, bidding Ryo and Kirra farewell as he led you to an internet cafe. To his credit, he did keep his word…

“Um, look, Zhao Yu, I'm really not good at the game, I just play casually,” you began, trying to excuse yourself.

“I'll play casually with you then,” he insisted with a shrug, not at all bothered by the change in plans. Without waiting for any further protests on your part, he ushered you into the cafe. He strode up to the front desk with a comfortable familiarity, and you wouldn't be surprised if he'd told you he was a regular there. As you pondered his screentime, he had already paid for the time, once again returning to your side to usher you in. It was, in part, a sweet gesture, but a part of you felt the firmness of his hand was also partly to keep you from running off. Left with little other choice, you obliged and sat at the computer beside him.

You grinned sheepishly as your final game ended in borderline disaster.

“You weren't joking when you said you're bad,” Li quipped. For a moment, you half expected him to curse at you the way you'd heard him swear at the enemies and some teammates, but the barrage of insults never came. Instead, you felt a cold hand reach up to brush the hair from your face, his fingers gently twirling a lock of it before dropping his hand. His expression had softened, seemingly placated by the contact. “It's fine, it's not competitive…and you're cute.”

His last few words were mumbled, too mashed together for you to catch, but if the tips of his ears turning red was anything to go by, you'd guess he'd complimented you.

“Did you say something?” you pressed, hoping he'd repeat himself, but he only shook his head. “Mei shi ba, zhi shuo ni ke ai.”

Once again his words were quick, melding together like a fluid melody in his native tongue. It felt like you were hearing him properly now that he wasn't whisper-shouting at a screen, and it was…charming. You smiled to yourself. Cuteness privileges, huh? You could probably make use of that.

“Right, so how much do I owe you? For both the meal and this?”

Your questions were halted by a shake of his head and cold purple eyes enrapturing your own. “Another date, probably, I don't take cash.”

“Ah, then I guess I'll see you some other time?” So maybe he was a little pushy.

“We can plan while I walk you home. Zou ba.” Scratch that, he was a lot pushy. But it was part of his charm, you'd suppose, from the way he'd kept you on the inner side of the sidewalk to the protective hand on your waist as he insisted on escorting you to your door, Li Zhao Yu was a very straightforward individual, especially when it came to his interests.

“Zai jian le…unless you've anything else to say before I go?” The slight bit of hope in his voice was apparent.

“Thanks.”

“I don't need thanks from you, I want to do things for you.”

It was hard not to giggle at his bluntness. “I know, you make that quite clear,” you point out, kissing his cheek as a goodbye.

Perhaps for the first time on your date, Li was speechless. You'd tease him for it if you weren't into him too. Well, there's always more opportunities on future dates.

[0daylighthours0]

(part 2) A Deep Dive into Milkvan and Byler's Development: If Milkvan's Destined Endgame, Why's it Written Like This???

The decision to confirm Will to be in love with MIKE is wild, and I'll tell you why.

When you add a third party to a t.v show relationship, if the first relationship isn't perfect, people gunna start rooting for the third party. Take Stancy for instance.

Throughout s2, we got the vibes that Jonathan held feelings for Nancy. This was clear. But Nancy was still with Steve. This means, in order for us not to sympathize more for Jonathan, Nancy and Steve gotta be ✧ tight ✧. I mean, their issues must be kept at a low, and at the end of the day it's gotta be clearer to us that Nancy does in fact love Steve. Welp, that wasn’t the case. Stancy's relationship ✧ struggled ✧, justifying intimate moments between Nancy and Jonathan - making us feel as if he'd be better for her after all. A smart writing choice, as Duffers intended Jancy as season 2's endgame pairing.

Now, I'd like to point out the foreshadowing of this development.

Come the wrapping up of s1, and it seemed Nancy had retreated back to Steve.

They'd clearly reconciled and - to an outsider - all would appear to be going smoothly. But us as the audience know that not to be the case.

One reason? Well, she'd just shared a suggesting moment with Jonathan.

So our minds weren't on Steve and this show of his with Nancy. Rather, we read into Nancy's slight discomfort, and wondered if perhaps she'd prefer being with Jonathan instead.

This was of course intentional. I'd like to briefly bring to attention the similarities in these moments to ones at the end of s3 - between Mike and Will, and then Mike and El.

Here a conclusion to milkvan's seasonal drama is made, them seemingly staying together, parting on good terms. Hm. And milkvan's moment is.. kinda like stancy's. They got back together because, well, El said she loves Mike. And Steve loves Nancy. And Mike loves El right? The way Nancy loved Steve- But just, coincidentally, we have byler's reconciliation too.

This came before the guy's makeup with El, because, why? This was quite the interesting decision mates. It means that whilst he spends that moment with his girlfriend, our minds are fresh off of Will. People might read into the way he's acting in contrast, just maybe, the way they did during stancy. And people did. That's a bit of a fumble on the writers' part, if you ask me. I know you're trying to let us know that Mike's now on good terms with both members, and his and El's goodbye needs to be the dramatic finishing of the season, but, man, did byler even have to make up at all here you guys? I mean this miscommunication of theirs lasts through to s4 (just like janc-). Why not sort their good terms out later or earlier on, so that we have more mindspace here to focus solely on milkvan, our main main? Or at least, why not just have Mike apologize to Will and be done with it? He could even apologize alongside Lucas, making the moment less personal. And Will could simply forgive him, give a dudely pat it out, and that's it. We wash our hands.

But nah. There's this electricity in the air. The swelling music, the prolonged looks, this doesn't.. seem like a simple make up. It's startlingly short, making us feel as if there have been things left unsaid. And that line,

".. Not possible."

It's so... implying. What do you mean? Why are you looking at eachother like that? What am I meant to get from this scene?

And it isn't a closing reconciliation either, they haven't properly ended their season's drama. I mean no one even apologized for the argument, we're just sort of left with this. Left with the hint of a story that might be further explored - their moment coming off more as anticipation for what's to come than a conclusion. Maybe just a bit like Jonathan and Nancy s1.

But so what? That does not have to mean anything romantic between them is to be told. After all, El just expressed to Mike that she loves him. This means that these sweethearts are practically fortold as endgame, right?

Alright I'll stop stalling.

Season 4.

So. Will is in love with Mike now. Huh. Well, I don't recommend this. As I said, you risk people rooting for Will beyond their hopes for Mike and El as a couple. If this is a plotline you desire, it has to be navigated with precision. So this means that milkvan must be on their A game. Struggle between them has got to be handled delicately. As we see in stancy, and as we saw in s3, just making up at the end of it all isn't good enough. You can risk this mistake once, but we must like these guys together throughout season 4, more than we sorrow for Will. Infact, Will's feelings must not be made too big of a deal. Mike and El are going to stay together, so we should feel a bit sorry for him, but not gather any hope that things will actually work out to his favour.

Like Dustin in s2. He sprouted small feelings for Max, and so did Lucas. Lumax were the endgame, so Dustin's feelings were craftly navigated and not made more important than Max and Lucas' bond. We don't really feel that Dustin is in love with Max, moreso that he likes her and has some moments of jealousy aimed at Lucas. Noone really wanted him with her more than they rooted for Lumax, though we did sympathize for him and feel bad for him regardless.

So yeah, this can easily be written out for Will too. If his story's purpose is meant for the exploration of a gay kid navigating a still homoph#bic time, then there's a lot that can be done without even having to spare much screen time between him and Mike. Focus on his fear of judgement from Jonathan moreso maybe, or have Argyle say something - it can be whatever, mention something homoph#bic, mention something not homoph#bic and give Will hope, whatever - which sets off a thought or idea for Will that prepares his arc for the season.

Back to Mike and El - so we want a 'scared to say "I love you"' subplot. That's good, that good. Fleshes out Mike, plays into El's fears. Shouldn't be too hard.

There's already a mild problem though. This plot is playing out twice at once. We have our boy Will hosting this same fear of rejection by Mike - at least that's how things have been shot. His dread is portrayed through his restraint and timidity in revealing his painting to Mike. Will's painting is basically his version of a confession - the guy too selfless, shy and afraid to express his love outright.

So playing out this storyline at the double is.. a choice. I mean, Mike telling El he loves her is a big deal for the milkvans, shouldn't this romance dominate as much screen time as possible in order to be fully pumped up without any sidetracks to other insignificant in comparison feelings? S3 was already quite clumsy, why not have Mike and El's activities soak in all viewers' engrossment without any departures? Maybe spend a bit of time demonstrating how likeable and wholesome they actually are together. Now that we have Will's affection ontop it all, what's important is that Mike and El's camera time spent matters. They can be angsty, they can withhold some misunderstandings, but they still have to be a good. couple.

Oh yeah, also, Mike should blatantly display feelings for El and El only - duh.

.

..

huh ?

huh ? ? ?

[rafeandonlyrafe]

a place we could escape sometime

words: 2k

you can’t help but stare. rafe cameron is so gorgeous. it’s his fault, really, if you think about it. his fault for wearing such a tight fitting button down. his fault for wearing dress pants that sculpt his legs. his fault for having that sandy blonde hair falling on either side of his forehead. his fault for having eyes that you could fall into like the ocean… that are staring right back at you.

you quickly turn your head away, but not before seeing rafe’s smirk. you curse yourself and that stupid little pull inside of you that has you unable to look away from him, even during things like this.

you see rafe moving towards you out of the corner of your eye. you go to turn away, looking for any sort of refuge, but his hand is on your forearm, pulling you back into him. “pretty dress.”

you look down, as if you don’t know what you’re wearing. it’s the same dress worn by the other bridesmaids. “thanks.” you shrug. it’s not like you picked it out, or that it’s particularly flattering. in fact, you think the color is a little hideous, too dull of a lilac, turning it gray in most lighting. but you wouldn’t dare tell your aunt that. it’s her third wedding, and the second one you’ve been a bridesmaid in. you swear that every time the celebrations get more elaborate, bigger attendance and longer parties. you’re on hour six in the dress and heels, and you’ve lost all filter (and a bit of your sanity, which is probably why you were just unashamedly staring at rafe.)

“third times the charm?” it takes you a second to realize that rafe is talking about your aunt. his family is close to yours, probably only because yours is equally as powerful and influential in kildare. in fact, you can’t think of any of your family members who actually like the camerons, but despite that, you were close to rafe when you were kids, being close in age. you just haven’t actually spoken to him in years.

“hopefully.” you shrug again, hoping that your disinterest in the situation will make rafe think that you were just staring into space, not at him specifically. “i don’t know how many of these parties i can endure.”

rafe’s lip quirks up again. “what do you mean?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm, “you don’t like the fake niceness?” rafe circles you like a shark. your eyes flicker around the party, noticing all the planted on smiles, the forced laughter. “you don’t like the repetitive music, or the bland food? the fact that everyone knows we will be here in another five years after a third divorce?”

you give rafe an incredulous glare. it’s not that you disagree with his statement, but she is your aunt after all.

“apologies.” rafe chuckles, stopping his circling to stand at your front again. you can tell his apology isn’t sincere, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything except how close he is to you, and how your feet are killing you. five years from now you’ll have to put up a bigger fight to convince your aunt to let you wear flats, at least for the reception.

“what are you doing here still rafe?” you quirk your head to the side. he always makes the mandatory appearance for his dad, but he’s usually gone by now. “i can’t enjoy the party?” rafe grabs a champagne flute off a passing waiter. “i can’t like the repetitive music and bland food?” he takes a sip of the champagne, before passing it to you.

you roll your eyes but accept, downing the rest of the drink, not that the thin glass contained that much alcohol anyways. 

“come outside with me?” rafe asks, taking the champagne flute out of your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against each other. you nod, watching as rafe discards the glass on a random table, heading towards the balcony. the sun has long since fallen, and the gentle bite of the cold night air has you breathing out a sigh of relief, not even realizing how stuffy the ballroom behind you had begun to feel.

it’s so reminiscent of your childhood, when rafe would pull you away from the main gathering, none of the adults even caring that either of you had gone missing. it was before rafe started to get himself into major trouble. you’d do anything from build sandcastles on the beach to playing make believe, usually based on whatever movie you’d recently watched.

he was your little respite from the world, a place for you to escape to when the adult conversations became too boring. 

you walk all the way to the edge of the balcony, placing your hands on the stone railing. “i think it’s cute.” rafe says, coming up to your side.

“what is?” you ask, staring out at the ocean, you can barely see it through the dress, but it’s salty scent is in the air, the breeze carrying it like it was meant for you specifically. you’d prefer to be at the ocean right now, either walking along the sandy beaches or taking your board out to catch the waves.

“you checking me out.” you turn suddenly to rafe, eyes wide. he chuckles at your expression, “come on, y/n, you didn’t think i’d miss that?” “i wasn’t.” you deny, with a shake of your head. you go to say something about his ego, but you can’t find the words, the way his head is tipped forward, eyes tracking your every little movement.

“it’s okay.” he says with a shrug, breaking eye contact to also look towards the sea. “like i said, it’s cute.”

“great.” you mumble, mostly to yourself, “now i’m cute.” you suppose it’s better for rafe to think that you’re cute than to not think of you at all. but you don’t want to be just cute. it’s insulting. you want to be beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, you want to be one of the women he’s so often seen with. you’re sure the poof of the dress isn’t helping. you curse your aunt silently again.

“why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” rafe asks, his voice sounding genuinely curious for once, not like he’s trying to sneak in some witty comment or tease you.

“isn’t it?” you want to throw your hands up in frustration. “cute is demeaning. cute is… childish.”

rafe turns to you, brows furrowed together. “it is not.” he says, voice firm. “cute is enderating. cute is lovable.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “you are only calling me cute because we were friends when we were kids. you don’t see me like that.”

“really?” rafe says, turning and facing back towards the building, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms, giving you the perfect time to admire his side profile. “because i think you’re cute because you are cute. i can use other words too. do you want to know what else i find you?” your breath catches. you give the slightest nod, not sure if you truly want to hear this.

“well, i also find you beautiful. interesting. smart. intimidating. charm-”

“intimidating?” you interrupt rafe, letting out a genuine bark of laughter. “me? intimidating to you? scary kook prince?”

“okay.” rafe holds his hands up. “maybe not physically.” he gives you once over, “actually, definitely not physically. but you know all my secrets. that i was so scared during our music recital in third grade that i pissed my pants. you’ve got too much information, i gotta be careful to not piss you off.”

“you don’t talk to me enough to piss me off.” you mumble. it hurt, when rafe started to distance himself from you. he became not just cool and popular, but untouchable. you lost a lot of interest in him through that anyways, but that doesn’t mean the sting of the abandonment hurt any less.

“can i make it up to you?” rafe asks. the words i’m sorry not leaving his mouth, but the implication is there. regret. 

“how would you do that?” you ask.

“well, i can start by getting you out of this party. not for sandcastles on the beach, though, i fear you had a bit too much to drink and i,-” he places a hand on his chest, “being the gentleman that i am, will drive you home and make sure you get to bed safely. nothing more.”

you roll your eyes, but smile. you know that just like when you were kids, no one will even notice if you simply leave, but you’re glad rafe would help you put on a whole little performance just to flee the party. you slide your arm through his extended one, waiting for you to accept his invitation, “let’s go then.”

--

rafe ends up taking you out for ice cream, lucky to find a place still open. you almost ask him to take you home first so you can change out of your bridesmaid dress, but you’ve been in it so long it almost feels like a second skin at this point. you don’t even mind the strap digging into your shoulder. afterall, rafe did call it pretty.

“i’ll order for you.” rafe offers. “do you still get cookie dough?” 

you can’t help the smile that spreads over your face. “yeah.” you nod, surprised that rafe remembers your favorite flavor from when you were kids. rafe steps up to the counter, ordering a scoop of superman in a waffle cone for himself, and cookie dough in a cup for you. a warm feeling spreads over your chest that he even remembers that you prefer a cup.

“can we sit on your tailgate?” you ask rafe as the worker moves away to start making your ice cream. you got there right on time, they close in only ten minutes. 

“yeah, that sounds good.” rafe nods, smiling down gently at you, admiring the glittery eyeshadow patted over your lids, accenting your eye color.

“thank you.” you smile at the teenage girl working behind the counter as she sets your cup of ice cream down. she gives you a grunt in response, before moving to get rafes. you give a little giggle, not minding her attitude, knowing that you could get just as bad as a teenager.

“come on.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders as he gets his cone, heading out the door. rafe drops the tailgate of his truck, giving you a hand up so you can sit on it, turning towards the residential street. it isn’t much of a view, but a few of the houses have fairy lights hanging, giving it a pretty glow.

“so.” you say as rafe hops up next to you.

“so…” rafe parrots you.

“what caused this? this sudden… change?” you take a bite of your ice cream.

rafe licks his ice cream as he thinks over his answer. you have to force your head away as his tongue swipes over it, feeling something stir inside of you.

“just seeing you again.” rafe confesses. “it made me realize that i hated how much we drifted apart.”

“i wouldn’t say drift.” you say honestly. “it seemed pretty intentional on your part.”

“i suppose it was, but i never wanted you to feel that way. i started having… feelings, and so i just completely separated myself from them, from you.” “feelings? for me?” you question.

rafe nods. 

“it’s not going to be five years until i see you again, right?” you ask rafe, hopeful that this night has changed things.

“not at all.” rafe laughs, scratching the back of his neck, knowing he’s been far too distant lately. “in fact, i was thinking i could take you out to dinner sometime soon.”

you perk up at this despite your exhaustion. “yeah.” you nod. “that sounds nice.”

“y/n wait.” rafe says, making you catch his eyes. he’s staring so intensely you want to turn away, but you don’t, can’t, trapped in his gaze. “as a date. i want to take you on a date.”

you let a small smile loose. “that sounds even better.”

rafe nods, glad that you understand that he doesn’t just want dinner. he leans forward, pecking your cheek quickly. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, rafe.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears you. he nods, backing down off your porch, waiting for you to slowly close the door before turning around.