#but still pretty nervous since I had never written someone like him before

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pussy Liquor (Eric Draven x Stripper!Reader)

Summary: It’s a slow, boring night at the club until he walks through the door.

Warnings: Eric is implied to have a lot of money(he’s in the music industry), unprotected public sex, lust at first sight, choking 18+MDNI

✰ I think this one has been a long time coming for me. I’ve never written stripper!reader but I was a stripper for several years so this is v personal to me. The songs reader dances to used to be my favorite set. thank u for always encouraging me pookie @babygorewhore ✰

It was a dreary, slow night. There were bodies in the club but no money to go along with them. A few dudes you can tell just turned 21 and are here for the experience, they’ll definitely spend the entire evening at the same table drinking cheap beer while they whistle at the dancers with their wallets closed. A few of the girls regulars are here, either in the back or cozied up at a table. If you were lucky they’d ask you to come sit with them and at the very least buy you drinks but you didn’t feel like entertaining someone for nothing more than a few ones and some shots. There was a couple in the corner arguing and a few older men with their eyes practically glued to the slot machines. Classic.

But there was one individual that caught your eye. He wasn’t someone you would usually see in a place like this. He was more like a pretty face you saw on the street and thought about for the rest of the week. He’s tucked away in a back corner booth drinking what looks like shots of crown royal, the whole bottle, always a good sign. He’s approached the stage and tipped each girl generously but hasn’t stayed for a set. You’ve noticed a few girls go offer him dances but he declines, offering them a tip anyway. You couldn’t blame them for trying. He was gorgeous. He’s extremely tall, still towering over even the tallest dancers in their heels. His toned arms are covered in tattoos and the white tee he’s wearing sits taunt against his chest. His distressed black jeans are tucked into beat up leather boots and his face is otherworldly. Those bright green eyes shine in the flashing lights of the club, the way they dance around his face accentuating different parts of his statuesque bone structure. He has full lips and a perfect pointed nose and you’ve never wanted to ride a customer right in the middle of the club until right now. You haven’t felt nervous to go on stage since you were just starting out dancing but the way his viridescent eyes raked over your body as you climbed the stairs to the stage had your heart pounding.

Your first song starts to play and you grab onto the pole lightly as you prance around it to the beat. You press the tip of your healed boot against the bottom of the pole and spin your body around it with your other leg pointed before pressing your back against it. You nearly trip when you see the man you’ve been fantasizing about all night sitting at your stage with a $20 bill sitting on the bar. You regain your composure, smiling at him sweetly as you slide down the pole onto your knees so you can crawl to him. The sound of Rob Zombie’s “Pussy Liquor” thrums through your body, making you feel like a succubus. You stop on your knees in front of the top bar, never breaking eye contact with him as you pluck it with your manicured fingers and stuff it into the band of your black bikini top.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you.” You press your tits together as you lean over and stick your ass out behind you. “I’m Bunny, what’s your name?”

“Well, that’s kind of forward, isn’t it?” His voice is much softer than you expected as he returns your smile with one of his own, it’s not condescending though, it’s almost playful. “I’m Eric.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You can just watch me dance.” You wink at him before leaning back on your knees and pulling the string on your top so it falls down your body, your tits spilling free. Eric’s eyes sparkle and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks up at you like he hasn’t seen multiple pairs of boobs just within the last hour.

You pull the bottom string free and then toss it to the side as you push yourself up on your 8 inch heels. You sway toward the pole, running your fingers through your hair as you purposefully wiggle the fat of your ass. You grab onto the metal and roll your body before swinging your foot around it so you can climb up. You lock your legs together and lean backward, suspending yourself in the air. You watch as Eric pulls out a roll of cash and throws a huge stack of ones followed by several twenty’s. You grab onto your tits and jiggle them for him before titling yourself back up to grab onto the pole. You timed it perfectly so when the beat dropped so did you, right from the top onto the ground in the splits. Eric claps, which you find absolutely adorable because who the fuck claps in a strip club? And then he throws a literal hundred dollar bill onto your stage right as your first song ends. You tease him all through the next song, “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and when you’re leaning over to press your tits into his face he gives you this dopey smile and tells you that he loves the songs you choose. After your set is done you offer him a dance, and he insists on a private room.

You pull the thick red curtain back so you can lead him into the sectioned off area of the club. There’s walls on all three sides and an open face that’s completely blocked by curtains. You can’t help but giggle at the way he stands there awkwardly surveying the room. You can tell he’s never done this before.

“This your first time?” You grab onto a piece of your hair and twirl it, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s even taller than you thought he was and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs when how easily he could toss you around crosses your mind. You have no idea how you’re going to get through the next thirty minutes without getting turned on. You already are.

“Yeah. I’m just not sure how it works.” He chuckles lightly as he rubs the back of his neck but there’s this glint in his eye that tells you he isn’t going to make this any easier on you or your tiny thong.

“Well, why don’t you just sit down on the couch and I can dance for you?” You grab his hand and guide him to the couch, encouraging him to sit down. He obliges you and you lower yourself into his lap with your legs hanging over his. You’re back in your top now, but it leaves little to be desired and you feel your body heat as his eyes rake over you. One of his large hands lands on your thigh and he gives you a questioning look, instead of answering him verbally you swing your leg over his to straddle him and grab onto both of his hands, resting them on your hips. You throw your arms over his shoulders and grind down on him lightly and it has his grip on you tightening.

“I don’t know the rules and you’re making it really hard for me to control myself already.” Eric’s voice is a deep rumble that runs straight to your core and god you don’t usually let customers touch you like this but you’re starting to wonder if you can stop yourself from fucking him right here.

“Wanna know a little secret, Eric?” You ghost your lips across his pierced ear and you can feel his skin break out into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He groans when you grind down on him harder this time, his grip on you turning almost bruising.

“I don’t usually let guys touch me, even for money, but you? You can touch me as much as you want.” You run your nose down his jaw before pulling away from him, flipping around on his lap and pushing yourself onto your feet. You roll your body and shake your ass for him while pulling your top off again. You shimmy back onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest and grind against his now hard bulge. You can’t help the little whine that escapes you. His large tattooed hands grip onto your tits and that’s when you lose all sense of reality.

“I really liked your songs, ya know?” Eric’s breath tingles against your neck, his lips just barely brushing your skin. “You’re the only girl here I wanted to talk to.”

“Yeah? You’re the only guy I’ve ever seen in here that I actually wanted to dance for.” You throw your hands behind your back so you can lace them behind his head as you continue to wind on his lap. “And it’s so fucking against the rules but I’d let you fuck me right here.” You lean your head back so you can look up into his eyes and his expression has changed drastically, it was like your words flipped a switch inside of him and he wants nothing more to eat you alive.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, bunny.” He chuckles and brings a finger up to your cheek. He runs it down your face to your jaw before ghosting it over your lips and you can’t help but dart your tongue out to lick the pad of his finger. “Let me take you home with me.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do that either. But I really feel like breaking some fucking rules tonight.” You wind your hips in a circle and his cock slides perfectly between your thong covered ass.

“They can’t be too mad if I pay them off, right?” He squeezes your boob, rolling your nipple between his fingertips.

“That would cost a lot. You’re hot enough to lose my job over. There’s other clubs. I want you to fuck me.” You whine and pull the strings of your bottoms so they fall down your hips. You never thought you’d be here, sitting on a customers lap begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat. But something about this man was making you lose all rationality.

“Money isn’t an issue for me baby. Hell, I’ll get you out of here permanently if you want.” He runs that perfect nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the expensive perfume one of your regulars bought you a few months back. “And you don’t need to beg, the minute I saw you I knew I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“Fuck, Those are some big promises, honey.” You giggle, sugary sweet, and it makes him melt. He grabs onto your hips and pushes you to stand, your tiny thong falling at your feet, leaving you exposed to him. Eric grabs onto the globes of your ass and spreads them open, your pussy lips coming apart with a click from how wet you are.

“Would you look at that? So fucking perfect.” He grips onto your hips to turn you around, making sure to steady you when you stumble in your heels. You watch with wide eyes as he reaches for his playboy bunny belt buckle and your jaw practically drops to the floor when he pulls his cock out. It’s fucking huge and pierced. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, bunny. Come sit on it.”

Eric pulls you forward and you straddle him, your knees sinking into the leather of the couch. He grips onto his shaft and runs it through your wetness, the balls of his piercing bumping against your clit. He taps the head against your sensitive bud before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside your wet walls. But it’s not enough, you want to feel the burn of the stretch while he splits you open so you slam your hips down onto his, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. It nearly knocks the wind out of you and a moan so loud that the music barely drowns it out.

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Eric grips onto your ass and bounces you up and down on his cock as he stares into your eyes deeply. “You sure nobody is gonna come in here?”

“Nobody will, they’re definitely watching on the cameras and I’m definitely fucked as soon as we walk out of here but they’ll let it play out.” It’s like you gave him the green light because he plants his feet firmly on the ground and starts to fuck up into you. He grips onto your throat so he can pull your lips to his in a filthy kiss, not wasting any time intertwining your tongues together. The metal bar in his cock caresses your walls as his thick head bullies your g-spot and your toes curl in your boots. “Choke me harder.”

“Yeah? You like it rough, bunny? I’m going to have so much fun with you.” Eric squeezes your throat tighter and his free hand comes to run circles on your clit with his thumb. The way he’s talking about you like he already owns you combined with the pleasure he’s giving you has you already teetering towards the edge. “I’m gonna keep you, make you my pretty little fuck doll. You want that?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” You whine, drool starting to drip down your chin as your eyes roll back. Your manicured fingers scratch at his back through his shirt and you wouldn’t be surprised if it has tiny rips in it by the end of this.

“Look at me when you fall apart on my cock.” Eric grunts as he shifts his hips so he’s fucking into you even deeper and it has euphoria washing over your entire body the minute your eyes lock with his. Your pussy clenches around his cock like a vise grip and you moan so loudly there’s no way it can’t be heard outside of this room. But you’re way past giving a fuck. “Oh, that’s a good bunny, come for me.”

“Oh my f-fucking god! Fuckkkk me!” Eric’s thrusts don’t let up as he chases his own high, his hands grip onto your ass again and he’s practically folded in half on the couch as he bounces you like a fuck toy on his dick.

“I’m gonna fucking come.” Eric grunts before he’s pressing your hips flush against yours with his cock twitching inside you. You watch as he throws his head back, exposing his tattooed neck and you can’t help but lean forward and bite down on it. “Fuck yes, fucking bite me.”

You suck and bite on his skin until he goes limp underneath you, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes himself up with his cock still nestled inside of you before pulling you close so he can kiss you with a passion no man ever has before. Who was this guy? And why did you never want to leave him?

“Alright, we should get out of here so I can go lose my job.” You chuckle as you stand up and grab your bikini, tying it back on while Eric tucks himself back into his pants. He comes to stand in front of you, taking your face into his hands.

“I meant that shit I said. I know we don’t know each other, hell, I don’t even know your real name. But come home with me, I’ll pay off these assholes and buy you whatever you want.” Eric smiles at you so sweetly you feel like you’re going to melt into the beer soaked carpet and how can you say no?

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” You giggle and push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling him out to face the music.

You definitely lost your job that night. But Eric fucked you so good you couldn’t even bring it in yourself to care. And he kept his promise. He kept you as his little doll and gave you everything your heart could ever desire.

Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @nailbatanddungeon @myspacebrat @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent

Divider is by @cafekitsune

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | pt. ii

You take a sip of your morning coffee and almost spit it out on your dashboard.

This could not be your order. It was so… unusually sugary. Too sugary. Like someone liquified a whole candy store and shoved it into a venti cup.

Still reeling a little from the overly sweet aftertaste that lingers on your tongue, your eyes trail down to read:

Vt Crml Crnch Frap

5 Banana

Ex Caramel Drizzle

Extra Whip

Extra Ice

Ex Cinnamon

7 pumps Add Dk Crml Sauce

Ex Caramel Crunch

1 pump Honey Blend

Heavy Cream

Double Blended

What kind of pretentious asshole orders this garbage? Were their taste buds dead?

You mentally sent your condolences to the poor person that had to make this disgusting monstrosity of a drink. Please, you would’ve taken one look at the order and thrown it in the trash.

Your eyes searched the paper cup for who your local coffee shop transgressor was– catching sight of a scribble in blue marker reading “H-A.” You moved your hand a bit to reveal a “W-K-S.” A sense of dread creeps in as you numbly stare at the squiggly heart next to it.

It was like someone slipped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.

You had mistakenly picked up the wildly famous winged pro hero’s order and to make things even worse, put your mouth on where his was supposed to be.

Okay that sounded kind of dirty. But it’s not like you could drive back and return it now, what with your lip gloss already staining the lid.

Hey, um, I think I accidentally took a sip of the Hawks’s coffee? Oopsies? You guess you could pay for his order to be remade, but who’s to say he’ll even come back for it, much less accept it from some random stranger?

You were already running late to your desk job as is, and your coworkers were probably scratching their heads, wondering where you were since you always arrived at least half an hour before them. Should you just throw it away and pretend it never happened?

Oh god, would some person dig through the trash the moment you turned your back and extract your DNA from your lip gloss on the lid, thinking you were a deranged fan who stole his drink on purpose?

Or worse—that you were his secret girlfriend picking up his drink who had just wanted a little taste first before delivering it to him?

Your brain starts to wring itself dry of all the possibilities that could happen, shuddering despite each one being as unlikely as the next. An impressive mental workout for an un-caffeinated person at barely eight in the morning.

You wish you never even went to get your usual little treat today. That barista definitely looked right at you when you went to pick up your order, you swear they did.

But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe they were looking at the person standing behind you that you didn’t see as you rushed out of the shop? How do you even miss a man with wings that big?

Something gently knocks on the driver side window and you almost jump out of your seat.

As you roll it down with caution, your brain momentarily stops functioning as you’re met with a pair of striking golden eyes. Another inch of tinted glass down, a strong Grecian nose.

Forget work, the hell. You didn’t even know noses could be that pretty, and as your last bit of window disappears into the car so does your self-respect as you realize he’s abandoned his usual tan-colored jacket, standing before you in his black compression shirt with gold embossment.

Forget everything, actually.

You don't realize you’re holding your breath until he laughs at you, and you sheepishly close your slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know coffee thieves came this cute.” Drinking in your appearance his keen eyes stray from yours, slowly trailing down to your trembling lips, a stark contrast to the growing smirk on his. “Or this nervous.”

His fingers drum absentmindedly on the side of your car door, clear amusement written across his handsome face as he waits for you to say something. You collect yourself and snap out of your thoughts, taking a deep breath.

“I’msososorryIdrankyourcoffee!” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as your words come out in a jumble. “I totally grabbed the wrong order and I can’t believe I didn’t see you waiting behind me, I swear I’m not a creep–”

“Hey, hey,” Hawks gently interrupts you, reassurance laced in his voice. “It’s all good, no harm done.” He taps the paper cup that somehow miraculously hasn’t slipped out of your fingers yet.

“Sooo was it good?”

You choke on air, not expecting that. “Your drink?”

“Yeah, my drink.” He shoots you a cheeky grin. That bastard. “Good or nah?” You pause, contemplating if you should lie–no. No, today you chose honesty.

“...Genuinely, I have no idea how you drink this shit.”

Hawks laughs at your bold answer. “Thanks for being my little taste tester anyways. Too sweet, huh?” The tip of his finger traces around the remnants of your lip gloss on the lid, the cup still in your now slightly shaky hand as you nod.

His touch seared against your skin, as his pretty fingers closed around yours to raise the drink up to his lips to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving your own.

With a gaze that was infuriatingly sultry as it was sweet, like a bird of prey beckoning a field mouse to be their next meal, he murmurs, “Just how I like it.”

You’re not really sure he was talking about the coffee anymore.

He hums, and your thighs involuntarily clench a bit as his soft-looking mouth closes around the opening of the lid to take another sip.

“I’d say you’re a villain that deserves their own special category.” He grins, eyes sparkling conspiratorially. “One that involves letting me take her out to dinner.”

If you weren’t sitting down you know your legs would have given out. “Like… like on a date?” You gape at him incredulously. Because there was no way. Hawks. Just asked you out.

“Now sweetheart, what else would it be?” Hawks smirks at your dazed expression, like you’re sure you misheard him. So cute. “I mean, unless you don’t want to–”

“No!” He blinks, and your hand flies to cover your mouth at your sudden outburst.

“I-I mean, I want to…” You shyly say at a much quieter volume, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. He leans closer to you with a grin, languidly resting his folded arms over the open frame of your car door.

“It’s a date then. I know this really good sushi and ramen place down the block near my agency, my treat of course.”

“If I’m a villain is this your idea of rehabilitation?” You joke dryly. “Because it’s working.”

He tips your chin up. “Oh don’t worry pretty, I’m just getting started with turning you into a good girl.” A hot flush creeps up your neck to your cheeks, and you almost melt into a puddle right then and there at your steering wheel.

“I’d love to stay but I’m actually so late for work right now.” You utter weakly, chin still resting against his finger. Hawks tilts his head at that, unfolding his vibrant crimson wings as he wordlessly opens the front door of your car.

With little effort and an impressive flex of his biceps, plus a sharp intake of breath from you, one of his arms slips under your thighs and another firmly hugs you just under your shoulder blades as he lifts you up to his firm chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels your flustered arms hastily reach up to wrap around his neck. Honeyed eyes like molten gold meet yours as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh through your pencil skirt, and once again you find yourself needing a reminder to breathe.

“So, where to?”

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“IS THAT FUCKING HAWKS OUTSIDE OUR COMPANY’S BUILDING?!”

say you can’t sleep, baby i know, that’s that me expresso~ ♪

[coffee-and-tea-time]

Yandere shop! Choose your yandere!

I was thinking, did you ever listen to yandere asmr videos? If so, you will catch on quickly that this is based on the yandere shop, which was so popular in asmr videos during the pandemia. - coffee

If you didn’t, quick summary Coffee gave me: imagine if there is a place where you can enter and you can ‘buy’ (they pay you since you are going to take care of a serial killer so he don’t kill people while you two got your twisted love) a yandere of your choosing. - tea

Word count: 1.2k but this will be edited to correct misspellings or weird sentence structure later, sorry in advance.

tw: yandere behavior, willing reader, delulu, written in you/yours, reader is a little nervous but really interested, you can choose humans yanderes and non-human (although humanoid) yanderes!

You fix your clothing and take a deep breath, your mind filled with ‘what if..’ yet, you were here, in a place that you didn’t trust was real

A creak takes you out of your thoughts, a smiling man dressed rather formally, greets you cheerfully.

“Sorry to interrupt when you are so absorb in your pretty mind My dear, but you know, a little push may help you”

He said as he extended his hand to you, well, you already made your way here hoping to get a yandere so you gather all your corague as you take the man's hand. He led inside the shop, you can hear the click of the door closing behind you as you follow him.

“Oh, I hope you weren’t thinking of backing up so quickly Dear, want something to drink?”

You gently shake your shake as you sit down in one of the couches, on the inside it looks pretty much like a coffee shop.

“Smart choice but you still seem rather nervous, want to say something before I go ahead and show you the catalog?”

“Well, I wanted to know, what can you do for the yandere you like to like you back? What if the one I choose doesn't like me back?”

Your worries were met with a not-so-subtly laugh from the man which make you kind of annoyed and embarrassed.

“Sorry Dear, I just never thought I ever meet somebody that feel insecure about the love of a yandere”

Now you wanted to punch him, is a normal question to ask! The yandere have their own way to fall in love!

“Let me give you a quick explanation, if they had a darling, both of us know they would be busy stalking them. The yanderes we have don’t have a darling, but are eager for the sense of love on their own way which may not suit everyone so to avoid problems, this shop was put in place as a matchmaker between differents kinds of yanderes and people who enjoy them"

You sight in relief as you nod.

“alright, who is more likely to go even more insane if they don't get a darling soon.."

"Sorry, what did you just say? I couldn't hear you well"

"Oh, nothing Dear, I was just searching for the ones that been waiting the most, is how the list work, I will show you a few options first so you have an idea, you can ask for another kind if you had something else in mind, I'm sure we got something that will suit your taste; Although, do remember that is just one yandere, we had problems with that before"

"How is it that someone got the permission to have more than one? I thought you guys will keep in track that since well, it's dangerous for anyone"

"She didn't have permission but she manage because she stubbornly wanted a yandere harem, the result are expected, averyone in that house died except for one yandere, he is again on the list, and as you can guess, he end up more being more... intense. He is totally your perfect option if you like a very possessive yandere, he's a more serious yandere for that experience"

“That will be dangerous for me too?”

"Dont worry Dear, he is truly desperate for love like the rest, his name is Dizie. But if you rather a more gentle treat, Gabriel is your guy, I don't know much about him since he said that only his darling will get to know everything about him. As far as I know, he's kind of yandere that will kiss the ground were his darling walk, a worshiper you can say, if you like someone looks at you like you are a deity, he's definitely your perfect match"

“Isn’t every yandere a worshiper in their own ways?”

"Well, I guess? Is true that others have another específic ways to worship, look, he's the baker, relishes in your enjoyment of their pastries, a very skilled baker that knows how to include the most unique of ingredients to make the sweetest of treats, dreams of putting his heart and soul in every treat he bakes for his darling, his name is Oliver”

"What kind of ingredients tho?"

“The next one you may like is actually a popular singer, he chooses to keep anonymous unless chosen, but if you want to be a celebrity or date one, he is someone you can guess that will love to spoil their darling, he’s on the talkative side, if you like art or stuff like that, you will enjoy his house. although he babbles a lot of how he wish to hear the voice of his darling obsessively for hours”

The seller seems to dodge your question.

“Ah, of course, we also have some special yanderes if humans are boring or less attractive for you, look, he’s Myotis, the classic vampire, he even has wings! Isn’t it perfect to see the sky closer while you enjoy the company of a yandere that looks like he just came out of a book? If you are also into short kings, you gonna love him without a doubt”

"He's not going to drain me out of blood, is he?"

“Dear, why would a yandere who waits so long for their darling, kill them? But if vampires aren't your type, you could go for a mothman! You will be the light of his life, literally. He’s a big softie and kind of clumsy; he just eagerly waits for the arrival of his daylight. A good choose if you like special clingy yanderes, he is not around humans too much, but he said he wanted to be called Lior if he got chosen. Oh, if you are on the stronger side, you may want to keep your eye on Tarak, he said something about his name meaning something like star and protector I think, I guess he chose the name by himself, he’s a prideful dragon and really loves to talk, honestly, I’m not that intelligent to understand some things that he say, but if you like to know new things by listening, asking or reading, he's your man, you can try trying to teach him something new, I don't think is impossible to archive”

“You know what ag…”

You stopped talking when you catch a security camera in a corner moving around frantically yet appear like not seeing anything?

“Don’t mind him, is just Grier, even though I don’t know if that's his real name, I do know he loves trying to spy here using the security cameras so we end up having to put tape on them when a darling is coming to the shop; as you can guess, he’s a hacker, if you choose him, you will be very well protected and taken cared of since you gonna be being watched even if you think you are alone, if that what you wish for, please do choose him.”

The seller looks at you, waiting for an answer, to choose what kind of yandere you want or ask for a specific type now.

“You don’t really go outside too much, so I don’t think you gonna have problems with any of them”

You act like you didn’t hear his murmur as you look at the papers in your hand of every yandere he just talked about.

If your favorite options lose or you want something specific, just send an ask! We love comments and interactions in general so don't be shy.

seller post

Sneak peek of the first encounters

Grier post

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest ⚘

[lexirosewrites]

as much as I enjoy “instant love,” I also think that maybe omega Steve would be a little freaked out by finding out his alpha friend, Eddie, wants to court him

Steve’s only ever dated women before (of all designations— but still) and he doesn’t know how he feels about this

but Eddie’s his friend

and if there’s one thing Steve does know, it’s that he can’t afford to lose any more of those in his life

so maybe he’s not super excited when he hears Eddie’s courting offer…

maybe he’s hiding his shaking hands in his pockets and choking back a lot of panic and anxiety when he’s asked

Steve’s ready to puke and run away without answering in order to escape the conversation, completely, but Eddie’s expression alone keeps him planted

because it’s the first time anyone has looked at him with so much open happiness, like Steve could be the best thing in the world

sure, he looks nervous too, but that’s a given for this sort of thing

and there’s no denying it

for whatever reason, Eddie is in love with him. he even says as much

“I know we had a bumpy start, Stevie. you never would’ve given a guy like me the time of day back in school—”

Steve interjects

“you don’t know that”

Eddie smiling, but his eyes look sad

the alpha shakes his head slightly. not condescending per se, but a little amused

“trust me. I wouldn’t have even made it this close before one of your lackeys would’ve been threatening to shove me into a locker”

his heart aches at that. it’s a little more true than he wants to admit

“well then… I guess it’s a good thing we’re not in high school anymore,” Steve concedes

Eddie nods, exhaling with a shaky laugh

god he looks so nervous

“guess so”

Steve still hasn’t answered him. they’re both acutely aware of that

his tongue feels too big for his mouth

“so you want to court me”

it’s less of a question, more of a stated summary of the confession Eddie had opened this conversation with

still Eddie nods once more, confirming

“yeah. I- I really do, Steve. more than anything I’ve ever wanted and I know how crazy that makes me sound”

“not crazy,” Steve squeaks out, “I just didn’t know you felt that way about… me”

Eddie takes a moment to process that, looking up at the sky as if his next words might be written up there

“of course i do. you’re the most beautiful omega I’ve ever met”

he’s sure that his surprise is all over his face

“beautiful?” Steve questions

he’s been called a lot of things in his life, but that’s not a word he’s ever associated with himself. maybe handsome, rugged, strong? but beautiful is reserved for omegas who don’t look like him

the pretty ones

the dainty, feminine, demure ones

Eddie looks so earnest when he states, “you’re drop dead gorgeous, sweetheart. inside and out. I mean, your face is perfect, but you have the biggest heart too. how could I not fall for you?”

Steve lets out his own nervous laugh. the air feels thin. maybe he cares about this more than he thought

“I’m really nothing special,” he protests

Eddie must be mistaken. there are so many other omegas that fit the mold much better than him

the alpha frowns, looking more than a little displeased at his response

“you’re wrong about that. in fact, I think I’d be the luckiest guy alive if— well, if…”

if Steve accepts Eddie’s courting offer

if Steve accepts that someone might actually want him for more than what he can give or do for them

…if Steve accepts the fact that Eddie’s been in the back of his mind since the boathouse and never quite left afterwards

his hands are still shaking

“you really want to court me?” Steve asks, his voice small. smaller than it should be

Eddie takes a step forward, hand extended towards Steve. he pauses before making contact, seeming to realize he should ask first

Steve nods, holding his breath

the gentle hand that touches his cheek, feather light and shaking as much as Steve’s own, grounds him to the earth and the moment

this is actually happening

“I realize you have no reason to believe me right now because I’ve not always been straightforward, but I love you, sweetheart”

his stomach is full of butterflies

Eddie’s telling the truth. it’s written all over his face and all over his alluring scent that has Steve wanting to lean in a little more every second that they’re this close

“you love me?”

he realizes he sounds like a broken record, just repeating Eddie

Eddie’s chuckles, seeming to notice the same thing

instead of affirming once more that Steve’s hearing is intact, Eddie just asks “can I kiss you?”

he’s nodding before he has a chance to doubt himself— to doubt this or doubt Eddie’s intentions

it’s soft

it’s light

it’s sweet

the kiss leaves him floating

the entire world could be split open again and Steve wouldn’t notice because he’s in Eddie’s arms and they might be courting now

he’s not head-over-heels in love quite yet, but it won’t take long to fall

now he knows Eddie will catch him when he does

[ashwhowrites]

An idea that popped in my head before bed. I hope you guys enjoy it! Been a bit since I've written my own Robin idea so I hope it's worth the read 🫶🏻🩷

Robin writes a love note for Vickie but accidentally puts it in Readers locker

Wrong locker

Robin has been trying to figure out the best way to confess her feelings to Vickie. Robin figured since she couldn't even speak a word to the pretty redhead in general, writing down her feelings would be best. But Robin didn't want to sound like a crazy stalker so she settled for a simple love note.

Robin took a deep breath as she walked to Vickie's locker, she slipped the pink paper in the small cracks. She held her breath as the note dropped in. The sound of the bell had her racing to the other side of the hallway. She tried to look busy but kept her eye on the locker.

She smiled as Vickie walked up, but her stomach dropped when she noticed Vickie was opening the locker next to the one with the note. Robin panicked, whose locker was the note in?

Fear filled Robin's bones as Y/N walked up. The girl's atmosphere was terrifying. Her leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and perfume. Her healed black boots echoed down the halls. Her tight jeans framed her body along with her tight band T-shirt. She was intimating, and she liked to be. Her sharp eyes glared at anyone who looked at her. A snarl on her lips if anyone bothered to talk near her.

Robin felt like she wanted to die when Y/N opened her locker, the pink note falling to Y/N's feet. Robin prayed she wouldn't pick it up, maybe stomp on it and move on.

But no, Y/N picked up the note. Robin was stuck in her spot, she needed to run but she couldn't move.

Y/N tried to keep the smile off her face. No one has seen her smile and that wasn't going to change. But she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter at the sweet note. She knew she was intimidating and scared people off. But she's never had someone see her in such a romantic way.

She knew of Robin Buckley, the cute bandgirl. Y/N played on the volleyball team and the band always played at their games. Was Robin watching her the whole time?

Y/N put the note in her pocket, closing her locker. She turned around to walk to class when she spotted Robin staring. Once they made eye contact, Robin looked down at her shoes.

Please don't walk up to me

Please please please

"Hey Buckley," Y/N's voice ran shivers up Robin's spine. She gulped and looked up. Y/N stood in front of her, her confident frame stood tall.

"I'm sorry! The note was-" Robin went to explain what happened but Y/N cut her off.

"The note was very sweet. Thank you, it made my day. I'll call you." Y/N said, a smirk on her face as she took in Robin's nervous frame.

Robin didn't dare to breath until Y/N strutted off.

~~~

"And turns out it was the wrong locker!" Robin explained, her voice wavering between pitches. Her nervous hands were shaking as she told the story to Steve.

Steve nodded along with his arms crossed. Robin tended to talk throughout their shifts and not do any work. So Steve picked up the slack. But the place was dead so gossip time took full attention.

"Whose did it end up in?" Steve asked, he uncrossed his arms as he reached to grab his drink.

"Y/N."

Steve's eyes went wide and his water flew out of his mouth. Steve was a grade above Y/N throughout high school, and even he was terrified of her. He prayed he'd never run into her after graduation. Her sneer and hard eyes kept him up at night. He still has nightmares about the day he ran into her, his hot coffee staining her shirt. Steve could almost feel the bruises on his cheek forming again.

"You're fucked!" Steve said.

"Dingus! Don't you think I know that? She said she was going to call me! What the hell do I do?" Robin panicked.

"Maybe she won't call you! Let's not stress about anything yet." Steve said

~~~

Robin sighed in relief when she crawled into bed, not a single phone call from Y/N. Maybe Y/N just wanted to make Robin nervous and never planned to do anything about the note.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Robin gulped as she picked up the phone, she hoped more than anything that Steve was calling about his lame date.

"Sorry, gorgeous. Volleyball went very late." Y/N's voice traveled through the phone, and it still made Robin nervous.

"It's okay." Robin gulped, her fingers playing with the telephone cord.

"I know this place downtown, maybe Friday night after the game, we can go?"

Robin tried to say no, all she had to do was explain the mix-up. But she was scared of Y/N's reaction. One date couldn't hurt, maybe Y/N would realize how boring Robin was and wouldn't be interested.

~~~

Robin packed up her instrument, talking with Vickie about the game. Robin tried her best to keep the conversation going.

"Ready gorgeous?" Y/N asked. Robin couldn't help but blush at the nickname being said to her face. Y/N was sweaty and panting from the game, and Robin couldn't help but find it hot.

"Yeah just gotta pack up." Robin rushed out, her eyes meeting Y/N's for one quick second.

"Okay. I'm going to change then I'll meet you in the parking lot?" Y/N suggested. Robin nodded and felt the air return to her lungs when she walked away.

"What's going on?" Vickie asked, she didn't bother to hide how shocked she was.

"She kinda asked me out." Robin shrugged.

"Oh, cool," Vickie said, but Robin couldn't help but notice how displeased Vickie looked about the news. Was she jealous?

~~~

Robin tried not to stare at Y/N as they walked into the bar, but Y/N looked hot in her tight black jeans, tank top, and signature leather jacket. Robin tried to ignore how sweaty her palms were.

Robin was confused about why they'd go to a bar when they weren't of age, but Y/N knew the bartender it seemed. Y/N walked to the back booth, near a pool table.

Y/N had a beer and Robin had an iced tea. Y/N made good conversation and Robin was surprised by the things they had in common. Robin found herself enjoying Y/N's presence.

A few hours passed and Robin swung her feet as Y/N played pool. Robin didn't know how to play and she did not want to look like an idiot in front of Y/N.

"Come here and just try!" Y/N encouraged, she's been trying to get Robin to play for the last hour. But Robin kept shaking her head.

Y/N gave up on convincing Robin, instead, she'd make Robin do it.

Robin gulped as Y/N grabbed her hand and lifted her off the stool.

"No, I'm not any good!" Robin tried but Y/N shushed her. Y/N placed the stick in Robin's hand, stood behind her, and corrected her form. Robin couldn't help but feel slightly turned on as Y/N's body was pressed against her back. The feeling of Y/N's breath against her ear, and Y/N's arms wrapped around her, made Robin feel fuzzy.

Robin took a deep breath, letting Y/N guide her to hit the small white ball. Robin watched as the stick hit the ball, it rolled and rolled until it smacked into a red ball, disappearing into the corner.

"You did it!" Y/N cheered, Robin couldn't help but get lost in her dazzling smile. At that moment Y/N didn't seem so scary and intimidating. She looked beautiful and happy.

~~~

A few weeks passed and Robin cursed herself for leading Y/N on. Robin couldn't help but be swept up in all the dates and how special Y/N made her feel. It made Robin wonder why she never looked at Y/N in the first place.

But Robin was tugged between Vickie as well. The girl the note was made for. It seemed Vickie was jealous of all the dates between Robin and Y/N. Robin remembered the hard look in Vickie's eyes when she showed up in Y/N's jacket.

"Are you cold?" Y/N asked, her hand laced with Robin's as they walked through the carnival. Robin wore a thin long sleeve, not expecting the wind to be chilly.

"No, I'm fine!" Robin argued, but the shivering of her teeth and tight shoulders gave her up.

Y/N smiled and took off her jacket, placing the warm leather over Robin's shoulders. Immediately lacing their hands together again.

A jacket Robin still hasn't given back. She wore it every day to school. To make Vickie jealous? Or to have pride she got Y/N to go soft? She wasn't sure.

She felt torn between both girls.

~~~

"Do you like her?" Steve asked, he felt bad for the situation Robin got herself in.

"I think so? But I don't know if I like her because she makes Vickie jealous." Robin explained. She was stuck in her personal hell.

"Well if Vickie's jealous, it means she has feelings for you. So you have your answer. Vickie is interested and single. Do you want to go after her? Or stay with Y/N?"

"I think I want Vickie. I mean the note was meant for her but I'm afraid if Y/N finds out the note was for Vickie, she'll snap me in half " Or maybe she was worried it would snap Y/N in half.

~~~

Robin sat across Y/N as she sipped on a milkshake. Robin's stomach hurt too much to enjoy the sweetness.

"Are you okay? You look like you might be sick." Y/N said, her milkshake pushed to the side as she reached across for Robin's hand. Robin gulped as Y/N's soft thumb rubbed her skin.

Just say it, Robin repeated in her head. She needed to tell the truth before Y/N truly fell for Robin.

"I need to tell you something," Robin said, her free hand gripping the leather jacket by her lap. Y/N encouraged her with a small smile.

"Remember the note?"

"Of course I do." Y/N smiled

"I put it in the wrong locker," Robin said quickly, wincing as the words finally were put into the air.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, her head turned as she tried to understand.

"I wrote the note for Vickie and I was scared to tell you. " Robin looked up to catch Y/N's reaction. The smile turned upside down as a frown covered its place. Robin has never seen so much emotion on Y/N's face. And just like she feared, the terrifying hard mask appeared on Y/N's face.

Robin tried not to flinch as Y/N removed her hand and moved it quickly into her lap. Robin's palm smacked the table. As always, Robin ran her mouth until she made it worse.

"And I just didn't want to hurt you! And I was a little scared you'd break me in half. So I went along with the date, not expecting you'd like me! Because like I'm me and I'm so boring compared to you. I figured you'd see dating me was blah and wouldn't be interested. But then you asked for more dates and I was-"

"Scared to say no, yeah got it." Y/N barked. She was an idiot to believe someone saw her as something else than a scary monster that lurked in the halls. All this time, she thought Robin saw something in her, something worth liking and learning to love. But no, Robin was scared just like everyone else.

Y/N refused to let how upset she was shown on her face. She shook it off and grabbed her wallet. She slammed down some bills on the table, the harsh air hitting Robin's hand, she flinched again.

Robin was scared to look up as Y/N stood up. She was too scared to see the look on Y/N's face.

"Look at me," Y/N growled, Robin swallowed nervously and looked up. But there was a softness in Y/N's eyes.

"You're not boring, and you're not blah. You're funny, fun, and beautiful. Don't think so low of yourself. Next time, make sure the note goes in the right locker. I'll see you around Buckley."

Robin didn't know what to say. Y/N walked off, leaving her jacket with Robin.

~~~

Robin barely slept that night. She felt so guilty, and not all relieved. She thought telling Y/N would take the weight off her shoulders, but it was the opposite. The weight on her shoulders now crushed down on her chest.

Y/N's jacket thrown over Robin's desk chair was a painful reminder she had to see Y/N again.

The next morning, Robin held the jacket in her arms as she walked up to Y/N's locker.

"Um hey," Robin said quietly, Y/N and Vickie looked up at the sound of her voice. Robin shrunk under the gaze of both girls.

Y/N figured she was talking to Vickie so she turned back around to her locker.

Robin couldn't help but feel like she was slapped in the face as Y/N ignored her completely.

"I have your jacket." She said, tapping Y/N's shoulder. Y/N turned around, grabbed the jacket, and slipped it back on her body. In a way Robin felt a weird feeling of pride. She knew it was Y/N's jacket in the first place, but Robin wore it for weeks to where it almost felt like hers. It felt like Y/N was wearing Robin's jacket.

"Thanks," Y/N muttered the locker behind her slammed shut as she quickly walked off. Y/N couldn't watch Robin and Vickie talk about their feelings.

"Yikes, she's back to cold." Vickie observed.

"Yeah I kinda broke things off," Robin explained, a feeling in her stomach as Vickie tried to fight off a smile.

"Oh that's too bad!" Vickie said, but Robin could hear the excitement in her voice. "What happened?"

"I wrote this note to ask you out and I accidentally put it in her locker. I've been too scared to tell her but I finally did. And I think she hates me." Robin said, looking over her shoulder but Y/N was long gone.

"Ask me out?" Vickie asked, a smile on her face.

"Yeah," Robin said with a smile. Her face warmed when Vickie reached forward to lace their hands together. Robin couldn't help but notice Vickie's grip wasn't as tight and safe as Y/N's. Robin didn't feel like she was protected like the way she did in Y/N's hands.

"I'd love to!" Vickie cheered, both girls sharing a bright smile.

But Robin couldn't help but feel an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

~~~

It didn't take long for Robin and Vickie to officially be together. Steve was proud of Robin for finally making a choice, but even he couldn't help but feel like it was the wrong one.

Robin spent every minute with Vickie, searching for the fluttering in her stomach that she had with Y/N. Robin thought it was fear but maybe it was excitement.

Robin tried to fight off the frown on her face when Y/N passed her in the halls. No more warm smile sent her way. Just a hard look, the same look she gave everyone else.

Was Vickie the right choice?

[cheolhub]

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.” 

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?” 

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you. 

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!” 

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him. 

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan. 

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures. 

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry. 

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true. 

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock. 

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can. 

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

 it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend. 

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day. 

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did. 

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic. 

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least. 

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it. 

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much. 

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants. 

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you. 

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core. 

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle. 

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic. 

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve. 

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction. 

you want him. you… want him. 

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars. 

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time. 

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt. 

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately. 

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other. 

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought. 

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist. 

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him. 

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above. 

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything. 

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily. 

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth. 

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds. 

“you’re so wet.” he hisses. 

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.” 

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering. 

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’” 

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks. 

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock. 

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there. 

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died. 

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow. 

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’ 

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you. 

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him. 

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him. 

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.” 

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again. 

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest. 

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into. 

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers. 

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him. 

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it. 

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.” 

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly. 

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised. 

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”  

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight. 

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you. 

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them. 

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him. 

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?” 

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. 

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing. 

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out. 

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum. 

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release. 

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs. 

“hey,” he whispers. 

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.” 

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?” 

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.” 

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?” 

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[snghnlvr]

6:28 pm. / yang jungwon

yang jungwon x fem!reader

synopsis: jungwon can’t stop kissing you!

includes: 1.5k words | FLUFFY FLUFF | jungwon is a simp | so is the reader so who’s at fault? | tooth rotting scenario that makes me cry about my single life | lots of kissing but i hope you can tell lol | jungwon in a tuxedo? plz sign me up!!

extra: this was supposed to be a short drabble but i think i got carried away .. | jungwon is bias wrecking me help me | i can imagine jungwon doing this to his partner and it dreads me | thank you taylor swift for motivating me to do this instead of my homework rn <3 | someone pls agree that jungwon is taylor swift coded - he’s written by a woman!!!

likes, comments and reposts are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

i want to wear his initials on a chain ‘round my neck not because he owns me cuz he really knows me, which is more than they can say.

“jungwon!” you called out to him, holding a necklace that had his initials in it.

after jungwon fixed his tie, his figure approached to you immediately when you called out to him.

you’ve been trying to put your favorite necklace for the past five minutes and you realized it’s been almost time for prom in your high school.so you were rushing.

jungwon actually decided to match with you, sending you pinterest inspo when texting you, “us?🥰”. he never failed to make you blush in public. you had to immediately hide your phone from your teacher, putting your hand on your mouth to prevent a smile from being noticed.

jungwon picked a dark, emerald green dress on you since green is his favorite color on you, especially his green sweater. you chose a regular suit on him, but his tie would have the same emerald color. he thought it was the best choice, yet you were happy with the results.

when jungwon picked you up from your house with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, you were in awe. he looked really good in a tuxedo that you can’t believe that he’s your boyfriend.

you’re were so mesmerized.

he looked godly charismatic because it emphasized his body well, his golden skin radiating under your door light and his perfect middle part presented to you. you can still see his natural curly hair at the ends but it made you fall in love. jungwon looked so mature that you wonder if this is how he will look like in a couple of years.

after staring at jungwon, you felt your legs getting jelly.

you were starstruck at his appreciation that you felt like crying but before you do so, you hugged him tightly with your arms around his neck.

you heard jungwon chuckling, imagining his whisker dimples appearing as he stumbled at your sudden action. his hands immediately flew to your waist incase you would trip.

when jungwon arrived to your house, he was really nervous. he thought he will be a stuttering mess when he sees you, imagining your beauty in front of him, him only. his heart was beating so fast, that he thought he will get a heart attack. he took a deep breath and rubbed his chest to ease his anxiety. you opened the door and he felt like a mess. you were shining - glowing - twinkling like a jewel.

you greeted him with a smile as usual and he almost fell down like those cartoons when the male lead faints, but thank the heavens you grabbed him before he could do so.

your parents behind you captured the moment with their phones behind the wall of the door entrance. jungwon waved to your parents, shooting them a small smile as they gladly did the same. their hearts were warmed at the sight they were witnessing.

jungwon pressed his head to the crook of your neck, taking a whiff of your body wash; a combination of cherry blossoms and blueberries. he closed his eyes for a moment before pecking your neck. it slightly tickled you.

he removed himself, still holding you by the waist. he looked down at you with a smile, “hi my pretty girlfriend.” his dimple couldn’t help themselves from showing.

you couldn’t stop smiling at his cuteness. “hi my boyfriend.” you replied back with a cheeky grin. jungwon thought you were too gorgeous. he leaned down to steal a peck, maybe three pecks. making you frozen and hoping that your parents didn’t witness that.

now here you are in the hallways, where both of you didn’t show yourself in front of others yet. you can hear the faded music but you weren’t close to the entrance where people could easily spot you; more like both of you were at the exit.

you stood in front of a circular mirror. you wanted to present yourself, jungwon didn’t mind how long you were gonna take. as long as he’s with you, he couldn’t ask for more.

your frustration didn’t help you in putting on your necklace and you felt getting sweaty from the stress, so you called your lovely boyfriend who has been inspecting the decorations all over the halls with his hands in his pockets and his boba-like eyes wandering around. you find the situation very adorable.

jungwon noticed it what you were asking for even if you verbally didn’t say it. he took your necklace, realizing that it had his initials and he smirked at your wise choice.

you looked in the mirror, seeing your boyfriend easily towering behind you and it made your heart shake. you moved your hair to one side so he can easily put it on.

jungwon slowly opened the chain as you eye his every action. you kept getting distracted by him that it was making you insane.

jungwon took a step closer to you, putting the necklace in front of you. you held your breath when the gold touched your skin.

jungwon was so attentive in making sure that the adjustment was making you comfortable. “is that alright?” he suddenly whispered, making your neck get goosebumps not from his breath but his deep voice.

you nodded and whispered, “yeah that’s fine.” you smiled at him. he couldn’t see you across the mirror but he felt it in your tone.

“done.” jungwon smiled proudly with his dimples. you exhaled as you were touching his initials on your neck, proudly displaying.

jungwon swore that you looked extra attractive.

“you’re so beautiful y/n.” jungwon suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly as he kept his head in your neck just like earlier. it felt perfect like a puzzle piece.

you chuckled at his sudden touchiness. “and you are handsome too, jungwon.” you put your hands on where his hands were on your waist, slowly rocking side to side.

“jungwon that tickles!” you pulled away slightly when you felt his kisses on the side of your neck. jungwon pouted when you pulled away.

“awe i can’t kiss my princess anymore?” you rolled your eyes at his childness. “you know what i meant.” you eyed him at the mirror.

jungwon shook his head, making his hair do a little bounce. he pulled you back in which you easily obliged. he continued planting little pecks, sometimes longer on your neck. your stomach was tingling at his lips touching your skin and the noises made your heart flutter.

you love his kisses.

you looked at the mirror at what was happening. you bit your lip at the attractive scene like it’s a manhwa. your breath was getting heavier each second has passed.

“alright you’re having too much fun now.” you removed his hands from your waist and turned around, your back pressed against your mirror. you fiddled with jungwon’s fingers.

you were about to say something, along the lines of, “let’s go” but jungwon kept staring at you with an affectionate face with his head tilted to the side, not caring about what you were saying. he was gonna to continue.

his lips were pressed into yours once again, making your legs feel like jelly. jungwon held your waist to keep you still as your arms slowly made way towards his neck to make the kiss deeper.

kissing before prom wasn’t apart of your bucket list but you didn’t mind it.

jungwon let go, leaning his forehead against you as he stared at you.

you giggled at his lips, it’s now stained in your lipstick. “now your lips are stained.” you tried wiping your lipstick from his lips with your fingers but jungwon didn’t care. he didn’t care how filthy or disgusting comments he would get from getting lipstick stains from you. as long as it was from you, he couldn’t careless. maybe that’s why you love your boyfriend a little too much heh

“you’re so touchy today, i wonder why..” you asked, eyes focused on his lips. you were making sure the lipstick was fully removed but you can’t tell if that’s his natural lip color; being swollen from your kiss or your lipstick.

jungwon tapped his fingers on your hips, slightly gripping them. “because i have the most beautiful girl in front of me.” he smile with a smug that made you laugh lightly. “mhm couldn’t help myself.” he looked proud acting like a prince.

“stop it jungwon, you gonna make me a mess before we take a step inside.” you jokingly pressed your hands against your cheeks, lightly tapping them to indicate your blushing.

jungwon smiled, staring at you with shining eyes as he grabbed your hand from your cheek, intertwining with his and pressed them against his cheek.

your lips were slightly open as it caught you off guard but you smiled from ear to ear when he pecked your hand, staring at you. his eyes were smiling.

“i love you y/n.” jungwon whispered against your lips. “i love you too.” you didn’t hesitant to reply, pecking him one more time before finally fixing yourselves to go inside of your school’s auditorium.

“hey what took so long!?” your classmate heeseung noticed the both of you at the entrance, his voice slightly irritated because both of you said 7:00pm. it was currently 7:30pm.

both of you blushed and looked away.

[leona-hawthorne]

heyyy, i’d like to browse for a book? i’m looking for something… blaise zabini. maybe a mix of fluff and smut?like “if you fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally, i think you’d do a pretty damn good job at it.” and/or him taking your hand and placing it on his chest. “feel this heartbeat? this is the effect you have on me." luv luv luv ur writing and take all the time u need ✌️✌️

YAYYY i've never written for blaise before so thank u sm for requesting this!!! also I got your other request about you wanting opposites attract so don't worry bb 💝

1k celebration navigation

18+ warnings ; smut , unprotected piv , virgin!reader

DEAL?... book browsing

ミ★ BLAISE ZABINI

You could already feel the bass thudding in your ribcage as you stepped into the dark, crowded club, the flashing lights casting a haze over the room. Blaise’s arm stayed protectively around you, his touch warm and steady as he guided you through the jostling crowd. As much as you wanted to blend in, to just enjoy this night with him and his friends, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Blaise, with his effortless calm and air of fun, looked completely in his element, but every minute you spent here made you feel like you were intruding on a world you didn’t belong to.

For a while, you tried to focus on him, on his low chuckle when one of his friends cracked a joke, or the way he seemed so relaxed, his fingers holding yours reassuringly, the scent of his cologne. But the longer you were there, the more the crowded room started to close in around you, the crush of people pressing in on all sides. You tried to shake it off, telling yourself to be cool, to just enjoy the night for Blaise’s sake. But your hand started to clench around the drink he’d handed you, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, longing for the fresh air.

He caught you looking around, noticing the slight way you stiffened whenever someone bumped into you. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning close so you could hear him. “You alright?” Blaise’s voice was low in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the pounding music. He glanced down at you, his eyes soft but with a hint of amusement, as if he could already tell you were nervous.

“Yeah, of course,” you lied, forcing a smile as you took in the crowd of people pressed together, the smell of drinks and smoke hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t want to spoil his night by letting on how out of place you felt, especially since he seemed to be enjoying himself. “Just a bit loud.”

Still, your shoulders tensed every time someone brushed by too close, and you caught yourself clutching his arm a little tighter than you’d intended.

He noticed immediately. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning down a bit so you could hear him better, “we can go if you want.”

Your stomach dropped. “No, really, I’m fine!” you insisted, hating the idea of being a burden. “Your friends are here, and you don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he cut in, his gaze softening as he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to anything. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. If this isn’t your thing, it’s not a big deal.”

You hesitated, trying to shake off the pang of guilt. “I just… I know you have fun here, and I don’t want to be the one who drags you away.”

His expression shifted, something almost unreadable flickering across his face, and he tilted his head with that soft smile that made your heart stutter. “If you’re not having fun,” he said gently, “then I’m not either. Come on, let’s go.”

That was all the assurance you needed. Within minutes, the two of you had slipped out of the club and into the cool night air. As you drove in silence back to his flat, you tried to organize your thoughts, the guilt from earlier bubbling up again as you replayed the night in your mind.

Once you reached the quiet comfort of his living room, the words tumbled out of you in a rush. “I’m so sorry, Blaise,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, not meeting his gaze. “I feel like such a buzzkill. That whole scene… it’s just not really my thing. You must get so frustrated with me sometimes.”

Blaise sighed, moving closer until you couldn’t avoid his eyes anymore. “Frustrated?” he repeated, as if the idea was completely foreign. “If you’re not enjoying yourself, then neither am I. It’s that simple.”

You shook your head, laughing softly despite yourself. “I don’t know, you just… you fit there, you know? You’re so relaxed, like nothing ever phases you. Meanwhile, I’m… just standing in the corner like an idiot,” you sighed. “I didn’t mean to be a killjoy, I just–”

“Hey.” He took your hand, drawing it to his chest, pressing it firmly over his heartbeat. “Feel that?” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Feel this heartbeat? That’s the effect you have on me. You ground me, even in the middle of all that noise. So, trust me when I say, I don’t care where we are—if you’re there, that’s all that matters.”

For a moment, you could only stare at him, completely taken aback by the warmth and sincerity in his gaze. The steady beat beneath your hand seemed to echo through you, grounding you just as much as he’d said you did for him. In that moment, you realized he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. He meant every word.

"Blaise," you whispered, feeling the need to respond, to acknowledge the depth of what he'd just shared. But no words came, because what could you possibly say in return?

Instead, you found yourself leaning in, drawn to him like a magnet. His lips were so close now, tempting you, and you knew if you closed the gap, there would be no going back. Not that you wanted to. 

Your pulse quickened as you leaned in closer, the air between you charged with tension. He waited, giving you space to take the lead, but his eyes never left yours, dark and intense. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with nerves and something deeper, more primal.

“I still feel bad that you had to leave your friends,” you murmured, biting your lip as you held his gaze. “Maybe... maybe I can make it up to you. Another way.” 

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. His breath hitched slightly, a flash of desire crossing his features before he schooled them into a neutral mask. But you could see the effect they had on him, the way his pupils dilated, the subtle tightening of his jaw.

“Is that so?” he replied, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no turning back now. You reached up, trailing your fingers along his jawline, marveling at the smoothness of his skin. His eyes followed the movement, fixated on your touch.

Before you could second-guess yourself, Blaise leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispered, "Don't overthink it." Then, slowly, torturously, he closed the distance between you, his mouth finding yours in a tender kiss that sent sparks racing through your veins.

As you melted into each other, the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, gazes locked in a silent understanding.

He stepped closer, backing you up against the wall as he dipped his head to brush his lips along the column of your throat. Each press of his mouth sent shivers cascading down your spine, your pulse fluttering wildly under his tongue.

"Tell me what you want," he breathed against your skin, the command laced with promise. His hands skimmed up your sides, thumbs grazing the underside of your tits as he waited for your answer. Blaise was a patient man, but even he had his limits, and right now, he was close to snapping.

"I..." You swallowed hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. What did you want? Anything. Everything. Him. "I want..."

He paused, pulling back enough to meet your eyes, his own darkened with restrained hunger. "What do you want, Y/N?" he prompted again, slower this time, enunciating each syllable. His voice was rough, gravelly, sending tendrils of arousal curling through you.

"I want you," you managed to gasp out, the admission slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Your body was screaming for his touch, begging to be claimed by him. "Please, Blaise."

At your plea, he growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as his teeth grazed your collarbone. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh through your clothes. "You have no idea how badly I want you."

With a swift motion, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. The hardness of his erection prodded insistently against your clothed core, making you whimper with need.

Without warning, he carried you down the hall, kicking open the door to his room. He tossed you onto the mattress, the springs creaking under your weight as he loomed over you, his eyes roaming hungrily across your form.

Slowly wantonly, he began to undress, peeling off his shirt to reveal the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. Your mouth went dry at the sight, your gaze tracing every dip and curve of his muscles. Next came his pants, sliding down his hips to pool at his feet, leaving him in just a pair of tight boxer briefs that did little to conceal his straining erection.

You felt your mind go blissfully blank, overwhelmed by the sheer perfection before you. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly parched lips, your heart thundering in your chest like a wild animal desperate to break free.

When he crawled over you, his muscular body pressing deliciously against yours, you let out a shaky sigh, arching into the contact. But then reality crashed back in, and a wave of nervousness washed over you. "Wait," you breathed, reaching up to gently grasp his arms. "I... You know I've never done this before."

Your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as you admitted your inexperience. "What if I'm bad at it?" The question tumbled out, half-hearted and uncertain.

A slow, wicked grin spread across Blaise's face at your confession, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and promise. He dipped his head, trailing kisses along your jaw until his lips hovered mere inches from your ear.

"Honestly, baby," he purred, his warm breath fanning across your skin and making you shiver. "If you can fuck me the way way you fuck me up emotionally, I think you'd do a pretty damn good job at it."

His hand slid down your side, fingers dancing teasingly along the hem of your shirt before dipping underneath to caress the soft skin of your stomach. "Don't worry," he continued, his voice dropping an octave as he pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just below your earlobe. "I'll teach you. You've always been a fast learner.".

A soft gasp escaped your lips at Blaise's words, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your skin tingling where his fingers brushed against you. The notion that he would guide you, teach you, made your heart race with excitement and anticipation.

"You really think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in your tone was evident, but beneath it lay a spark of determination. If Blaise believed in you, then perhaps you could rise to the challenge.

Emboldened by his reassurance, you reached for the hem of your shirt, hesitating for a moment before slowly lifting it over your head and letting it fall to the side. Your breasts, pert and rounded, rose invitingly, nipples already hardened into tight peaks from the cool air and Blaise's heated gaze.

Blaise's eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over your exposed upper body, drinking in the sight of your perky tits and stiff nipples. He licked his lips, his gaze fixated on the art in front of him.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to capture the tip between his lips. He suckled gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while his hand palmed the other breast, thumb circling the nipple.

As he nursed at you, his other hand slid lower, pushing your skirt up around your hips to expose your thighs. His fingers trailed along the smooth skin, edging closer to your panties with each pass until finally, he hooked them with his index finger and tugged the fabric aside.

"We'll take it slow, I promise," he murmured. "I want our first time to be perfect for you."

A sharp intake of breath hitched in your throat as Blaise's mouth closed around your nipple again, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your breast further into his warm, wet mouth. The gentle suction and flicks of his tongue had you squirming beneath him, your hands grasping at his hair to hold him close.

As his fingers danced along your inner thigh, pushing your panties to the side, you felt a rush of liquid heat dampen your folds. "Fuck, Blaise..."

"Shh, relax, love," Blaise cooed, releasing your nipple with a pop to trail open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent.

One long finger glided through your slick folds, collecting the arousal coating your pussy before circling your clit in lazy strokes. You were absolutely drenched, coating his digits with your arousal. "So wet for me already," he purred, the gravelly undertone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want you so badly, Y/N, he confessed roughly, grinding his clothed erection against your hipbone.” Want to feel this pussy squeezing my cock.”

A low moan spilled from your lips as Blaise's finger entered you, stretching and filling you in ways you'd never experienced before. Your walls clenched reflexively around the digit, drawing it deeper as you rocked your hips against his hand.

"Oh god, yes..." you whimpered, the sensation of his thick finger pumping in and out of your tight hole, combined with the relentless circles he drew around your clit, quickly escalating your arousal to dizzying heights.

"I... I need more," you panted, your nails digging into Blaise's shoulders as you tried to urge him on. "Please, Blaise..."

The desperation in your voice seemed to spur him on, and soon a second finger joined the first, scissoring and stretching you even wider. Blaise groaned at the feeling of your hot, velvety walls gripping his fingers like a vice. He added a third digit, pumping them faster as he watched your face contort in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby, let go," he urged, his thumb rubbing firm circles over your throbbing clit. "Come for me."

Your body tensed, back arching off the bed as the coil of pleasure in your belly snapped, sending you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion. You cried out Blaise's name, your pussy clamping down on his fingers as wave after wave of intense euphoria crashed over you. He worked you through it, not stopping until the last waves subsided and you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress. Blaise took a moment to admire the flush of satisfaction coloring your cheeks and the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. 

With deft movements, he divested you of your remaining clothing–your skirt and panties joining your shirt in a pile on the floor. His own boxers followed suit shortly after, revealing his thick, hard length standing proud against his abdomen.

Positioning himself between your splayed thighs, he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasp as the blunt head of his cock nudged insistently at your entrance.

But then you placed a hand on his chest, halting his progress. "Wait," you whispered, suddenly looking uncertain. "I'm... I'm nervous."

Blaise cupped your face tenderly, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "Hey, just look at me," he said softly, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. "There's no 'right' or 'wrong' here, alright? It's just us, just you and me."

He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch soothing and reassuring. "We've got all the time in the world, love. We can stop whenever you want, okay?"

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pouring all his affection and understanding into the tender contact. "I want this to be special for you, Y/N. More than anything. So we take it at your pace, deal?"

Your heart swelled with emotion at Blaise's words, the sincerity in his voice and the tenderness of his touch easing some of the tension from your body. You nodded slowly, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Okay," you murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Deal."

With renewed gentleness, Blaise resumed his position between your thighs, the tip of his cock still nestled against your slick entrance. He looked into your eyes once more, seeking permission and reassurance.

"You ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "I promise I'll take care of you."

At your nod, he pressed forward incrementally, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Inch by inch, he sank into your warmth, his breathing growing heavier as he savored the incredible feeling of finally being inside you.

Once he was fully sheathed, Blaise paused, giving you a moment to acclimate. Then, with exquisite slowness, he began to move, withdrawing until only the head remained inside before sliding back in, setting a leisurely rhythm designed to ease your nerves.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Blaise's thickness stretched you open, the initial intrusion causing a fleeting pinch of discomfort before gradually giving way to a pleasurable fullness. As he began to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back to draw him in deeper.

Each deliberate thrust sent ripples of sensation coursing through your core, the drag of his cock against your inner walls igniting sparks of pleasure that built with every pass. You arched into him, meeting his slow, sensual pace as you grew accustomed to the intimate connection.

"Mmh... Blaise," you breathed, your hands roaming over his back, nails scraping lightly across his skin. "Feels... amazing."

"That's it, baby," Blaise groaned, his hips rolling in time with yours as he picked up the pace slightly. "Take all of me, love."

He captured your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue twining with yours as he lost himself in the intoxicating taste and feel of you. Each thrust now carried a bit more force, but still with that same meticulous care, ensuring you were thoroughly pleasured rather than simply ravaged.

As he continued to move within you, Blaise broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh there. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "Never felt anything like this before."

Your moans mingled with Blaise's, the sound of your combined passion filling the room as he drove you higher with each powerful thrust. The new pace had you clinging to him tighter, your nails digging into his back as you sought greater friction, more of that incredible pressure building inside you.

When Blaise's teeth grazed your earlobe, you shuddered, a sharp cry escaping your throat. "Blaise..." you whimpered, your hips bucking wildly to meet his now. "Don't stop, please..."

The intensity of your emotions overwhelmed you, and you found yourself teetering on the brink of another climax, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within your core. "I'm close again," you panted, your voice strained with need. 

Blaise's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with increasing urgency. "Come on, baby," he urged, his voice a husky growl. "Come on my cock."

He reached down to circle your clit with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. As your orgasm crashed through you, Blaise buried his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his own shout of climax.

Your entire being seemed to fracture apart, shattering into a million brilliant pieces as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you. You clung to Blaise desperately, sobbing out his name as the waves of bliss threatened to drown you completely.

In the aftermath, you relaxed back into the soft sheets, utterly spent and sated beyond measure. Blaise rolled to the side, taking you with him so that you lay draped across his chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

After several long moments, you lifted your head to gaze up at him, a dreamy smile curving your lips. 

Blaise chuckled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed down at you adoringly. "See? That was so much more fun than being at the club with my friends," he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Definitely the better choice tonight."

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 10.5k (part EIGHT of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

october 4th ~ friday ~ 8:45 p.m.

A pop song from decades past hummed through the speakers, the sound at volume incredibly tolerable. You were thanking the girl behind the bar with your mind for not blaring it when there was barely anybody in the place. A couple older guys with baseball caps sat around the bar, the tv’s hanging up on the wall behind the curly blonde working hard played a baseball game. The playoffs had started for the season, these were important games now, there’d be a champion in a month or so.

DK’s team didn’t make it through, but they came close. Thinking of Isla while you watched the men in striped jerseys throw the ball around, guilt weighed on your chest. It’d been over a week and still, no one had heard from her. Not even Vernon.

Turning your glass in circles where it collected condensation on the wooden table you sat at, you leaned forward and took a sip, letting the vodka cool the pressure building within you from the inside out. It wasn’t too strong, not like the drinks at ATZ, but it was enough to ease the anxieties that had made their home within your nervous system.

For a week you’ve been a nauseous wreck. 

Last Saturday, the recruitment dinner, where it felt like your life had crumbled overnight, haunted you. Everything you thought you knew, everybody you thought you could trust, it was all a lie. Not only a lie, but a lie that had been brewing for a year. Since last semester, since Yeji walked out of that bedroom with that smug grin on her face, since Wooyoung threw away what the two of you had, since Yunho became your saving grace… A lie. All of it.

Wooyoung and Yeji never slept together. Were you supposed to believe that? He was pretty convincing Saturday night, pulling you out of the house once the two groups of authorities dispersed, Yeji running off somewhere before you had a second to confront her. 

And, oh lord, you longed to confront her.

ITZ had been paid off. Yeji gave them copious amounts of money so that she could be president. At least, that’s what Wooyoung had told you. It was your name, you were written down, Choi Aurora, you were supposed to be the president of ITZ for the last two years of your time here at Nasara, and you couldn’t figure out why.

Yeji has the money, Yeji has the face, Yeji has the fame. You have no money, you lived in a two bedroom rancher with your single, drug dealing father, and you have not the slightest idea what it takes to be a leader of a group of girls in dire need of somebody to look up to, somebody to place their blame on.

President Aurora? Yeah, okay.

Lighting up on the table, your phone took your attention from the TV though you longed to watch. The fans in the stands were on their feet, waving their rally towels in the air, shouting to their favorite players on the field. It was exciting, invigorating, no wonder Vernons dedicated his life to the sport. You’d have to get out to a game next season. Maybe if you could track down Isla, get them to make up somehow, you’d be able to go to games together.

You’d choose Tori first, always, but unfortunately you weren’t speaking at the moment.

She was the one lighting up your phone. Blowing it up, actually. Texts, phone calls, attempts to get through to you since she woke up on Sunday and you were nowhere to be found. Not answering her hurt you, because she was the only person you’d respond to straight away no matter the situation, no matter what you were doing. If you had a Tori notification, you were answering it. To go almost a week without speaking to her, it pained you. But, at this point, who knew what and didn’t tell you?

You needed time. You needed space. You still attended your classes for the week, ensuring your grades didn’t slip amidst this chaos, you just didn’t live at ITZ.

“I’ll buy you another if you need it, you don’t have to worry about nursing that one,” your father said, sitting beside you, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. Sipping your drink again, taking a much longer sip than before, you shifted your eyes over to him and he laughed. “You get to relax this weekend, okay? We can turn off your phone and hang out, just me and you.”

Almost laughing at his use of hang out, you smirked and swallowed your drink. “What about Seulgi?”

Yeonjun smiled, shaking his head. “Just me and you.” Taking in his twisted brows, the most animated part of his face, something you wonder if you’ve acquired from him, you took a breath. The door to the bar swung open, your father laughing as the tall, short black haired, thirty years younger, beefier version of himself walked through the door. “And Keeho, apparently.” 

His feline eyes scanned around the bar, not taking long to spot you and your father. When he did, his resting bitch face erupted into the warmest smile, one you’ve missed. Ignoring the girl at the bar who greeted him, he held out his arms and hurried toward the table, catching you as you jumped to your feet to get swallowed by his hug.

“Oh my god,” he sang, the twang of his voice comforting you tenfold. “What the hell are you doing home? I missed you.”

Squeezing him hard, you groaned. “I missed you, too.”

“We just saw each other last month.” Yeonjun snickered.

Keeho shot him a look over your head, one of his hands smoothing over your hair. “It was a month too long, Yeonjun.” Unraveling yourself from his grasp, you laughed and sat back down beside your father, pulling your feet up onto the chair.

Yeonjun closed his eyes for all of three seconds, took a deep breath and let it out with a headshake, turning his attention toward the TV. Keeho was the only person he’d allow to snap at him like that, it’s been that way for years. He’s one of your homegrown friends, the two of you growing up together in the forgotten parts of Tamoe, where the rich people didn’t linger. Your houses were on the same street, right along the town's border of Soro, the main reason why the rich people didn’t stray too far south.

Sharing an age with you, Keeho still lived at home with his parents and his younger brother. Attending all the same schools at the same time, not wanting to mess with the other kids who were tougher than you, the two of you linked up. Keeho, a bisexual muscle mass of pure boy, and you, the girl who wouldn’t see her dad for weeks at a time, but when she did it’s because she had to go to a random police station with her Uncle Yoongi to bail him out of his holding cell.

Yeonjun knew how to make a scene, he could draw a crowd, which made it really hard to keep friends, or make any for that matter. Keeho was the right amount of different, the right amount of crazy, the perfect amount of understanding all wrapped into a judgement free, couldn’t care less human being. Even when he met your father, at the ripe age of eleven years old, he wasn’t afraid. At the time Yeonjun towered over him, but now, Keeho was only an inch shorter. The difference unnoticeable.

Seated around the wooden slab, Keeho stretched his arms across it and watched you wide eyed as you told him how you've been living your week.

“Father of the year, Yeonjun,” he said to your dad, making him crack the smallest smile, his eyes not leaving the TV. All week he’d been driving you into Delo, onto Nasara’s campus, taking you to and from classes, waiting for you outside the buildings. He’d often mumble his disappointment toward the students who’d let their glares linger on you as you walked in and out. Most had a dirty look in their eye, but a few watched in sympathy.

“I don’t want her in that house anymore,” he mumbled, scoffing as something happened within the game. “Not unless those social media posting bitches grow up.”

Keeho furrowed his brows, turning to you. “You’re gonna drop out of the sorority?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, ignoring your dad as he shot you a look.

“Tell him what that girl did,” he said. “The president of that stupid hierarchy shit.”

“Wait, Yeji?” Keeho asked, sitting up. After you nodded, he laughed. “You’re kidding me, what the hell happened? I know we weren’t looking forward to her being head of this hierarchy shit, not after…” His eyes insinuated what your father didn’t know. “What’d she do?”

Sighing, you dropped your gaze to the table and shrugged. “It sounds literally crazy, Kee. Like, those movies we used to watch, where the shit that goes down is unfathomable.”

“Unfathomable,” he huffed a laugh, “You’re talking like Yunho.”

Letting your eyes close, the sting of your heart overwhelming, you glanced at your dad when he snatched his empty glass off the table.

“Fuck that dickwad, too,” he said, lifting the glass toward Keeho before he strutted toward the bar. He watched Yeonjun walk away, then whipped his head to look at you wide eyed and confused as hell.

“Fuck that dickwad too,” you whispered.

Scooting his chair somewhat closer, Keeho leaned toward you. “I thought we liked him,” he said quietly, keeping the words between you. “At least, I thought you liked him, I could see it, Aura. When we hung out with him this summer, good lord, the two of you were insufferable.”

Everyone could see it but you, apparently.

Tangling your fingers together over your knees, you smushed your lips together and blew a stream of air through them. “I don’t even know if he ever really liked me.” 

Keeho threw his head backward. “What the fuck, start from the beginning, what the hell happened?”

So, you did.

Starting from the beginning, restating the story of Wooyoung, who Keeho had strong opinions about. From the Yeji hook up, to falling into Yunho, to the ATZ ban, to finding out about him and Mina, to hooking up with Seonghwa, to then hooking up with Yunho, to him telling you he loved you (where Keeho just about leapt out of his seat), to the Soul situation, to keeping it all a secret from the outside, to Isla disappearing, to the recruitment dinner…

“You said all of that to her?!” Keeho’s tone was harsh through his teeth, his whisper sharp. When you shrugged he cackled. “Aura, what?!”

“I don’t know if that’s really all of it, it’s blurry,” you said. “But, I think I went in on her. It just kept coming out. I think I was tired of keeping it all a secret.”

“You said she didn’t react?” Keeho asked, and took your nod for an answer. “Aura,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Looking at… all of that,” he spoke slowly, thinking at the same time, “Do you think there’s a chance she, like, knew about you guys already?”

The words should shock you, but they don't. You’ve thought about it already. The way they all huddled up together, aside from Tori and Yuna, making everything seem like one big ploy. Seonghwa sleeping with you, Yunho not getting rid of Mina when he should’ve the second he started harboring feelings for you… If he was even harboring feelings for you.

“And what about Mingi? If Tori knew, and she’s likely to tell her boyfriend everything, did Mingi spill shit to ATZ? But, if ATZ and ITZ were in cahoots this whole time it seems, and Mina already knew, it could’ve been her spilling shit to everyone?”

None of it made sense, even Keeho, who was smarter than Yunho, couldn’t figure it out. All week you’ve been trying to string it together, trying to understand why any of this had to happen. If Yeji wanted to be president so badly, and she had the money to do so, why in the world would she need to ruin your life in the process?

“Have you talked to Tori at all?”

Her name made your stomach start to hurt.

“No,” you said, taking in his understanding gaze full of sorrow. “I can’t talk to any of them, I’m so sick about it. Which makes me want to drop out of the house and run away. They’re… monsters. All of them. She looked at me like she had no idea, Kee, I can say that. It seemed like she and Yuna weren’t in on it, which I can only hope.” Mingi pops into your mind, the way he tried to reach out for Tori before you left, but she swatted him away, pushing him back. You had no reason to not trust Tori, even though she did get really close with Mina fast, and she was dating Mingi who seemed like he was in on it.

If Tori did know, if Tori was in on all of it, it would hurt the most out of everything that's happened to you thus far.

“I don’t know what I want to do,” you said, looking at your father who carried three glasses back to the table. “Dropping out of the house seems ideal, not having to be around all of those girls who don’t want me there anyway.”

“Exactly,” Yeonjun cheered, a smile making its way onto his face. Sliding the glasses onto the table, one for each of you, he sat down and let out a groan as he did. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say all week, Aura.” Keeho grabbed his glass and sipped it, thanking your father with a wink, one that Yeonjun returned. 

“Yeah, well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Taking your second glass, you drink from it and screw your face up. It was stronger than the first. “Jesus, Dad, what’d you tell her to put in here?”

Yeonjun laughed, sitting backward like he was. “I asked for something that’ll make you feel better.”

“Haven doesn’t make drinks like this,” you said, coughing after another sip. “How much did you pay her?”

“Enough,” Yeonjun nodded once, then pointed his eyes at Keeho. “How’s life, Kee? You know, since I saw you last month?”

Laughing, Keeho sipped his drink. “A lot better now that I broke up with my boyfriend.”

Yeonjun’s lips parted in shock. “And this happened when?”

“Two months ago,” you said, looking at your dad who gaped back at you.

Keeho shrugged. “I didn’t want to talk about it when you asked me about him last time.”

Yeonjun moved his chair beneath the table and rested his elbows on the wood, leaning toward your friend who sat across from him. “Well,” your father bobbed his head, “Tell me now.”

The two fell into a deep discussion quickly, Yeonjuns focus on him completely, hanging onto every word of every story Keeho was telling him. He had broken up with his boyfriend of two years, a boy who was holding him back from being a better version of himself. A boy who wouldn’t speak nicely to him or others, a boy who snuck about and would beat around the bush whenever Keeho asked him about anything. It was toxic, and you’re surprised Keeho dealt with him for so long, but he was free now.

Fifteen minutes later, all three drinks gone, they were finally on the break up story when the door to Haven opened and slammed shut. Two boys walked in, possibly around your age, one taller than the other. The tallest had a curly brown mop on his head, the other with longer, shaggier hair tucked beneath a baseball cap. His face was hidden by the shadows, but his body told you that regardless of what his features were he was good looking.

In a black t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, three silver necklaces hung over his chest, one of them a dog tag. His shoulders were wide, his arms rippling with muscle as he walked and said hello to some of the men at the bar. The boy beside him, tall and lanky, had eyes as big as the moon and a smile so welcoming you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. Their energy was captivating, walking into the place like they owned it, the short one’s hips swaying in his walk, a confidence oozing out of his being.

They took to the end of the bar where no one sat, both of them situating themselves on the wooden stools, ordering drinks from the bartender who gave them a friendly smile. They clearly came here often, they spoke to her like they knew her, and when she walked away, they spoke to one another like they were closer than friends, like they knew each other better than that. 

The taller one with the curls, he was familiar, that smile like one you’ve seen before, but couldn’t place from where.

It wasn’t until the shorter one took his hat off and pushed his hair back that it all made sense. Your heart skipped a beat. He was good looking, he was gorgeous. A jaw pointed and sharp was home to a charismatic smile living below the sweetest nose and the most beguiling eyes. A beautiful face. A face you and Tori had to zoom in on.

Chan.

Chan and his cousin, Minho, or so you believe. Tori had told you that.

They were closer than friends, they were family.

Mina’s family.

“Aura kinda convinced me that it was time,” Keeho said to your dad who nodded. “Even though I knew it, she gave me the confidence to finally let go of something I was holding onto that was hurting me.” He looked at you with a smile. “Right?”

Nodding, not taking your eyes off of Chan, you rubbed Keeho’s arms and stood up. “Yeah, I’m proud of you,” you mumbled. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“Can you get me a-”

You didn’t hear the rest of your fathers question, your feet were on a mission, they had a mind of their own. Bounding for the bar, keeping yourself as calm as possible, though your blood threatened to boil over, you perched yourself on the corner closest to Chan and Minho, the two speaking to one another like they were keeping a secret. The bartender returned, a girl with a name tag that read Hope. Her hair was hanging at her shoulders, naturally curly blonde hair that turned different colors when she walked beneath the different neon colored lights. Your father told you all about this place, the history, apparently it’s always looked the same.

A time capsule of sorts.

“What can I get you?” Hope asked after she brought drinks to the boys. “You’re with him, right?” Her nod toward your father made you smile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Can I have whatever he got me before? Tasted like vodka, I think? I don’t even know what it was.”

Hope laughed. “Of course, give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” She took your glass and whisked herself down the bar, getting to work. Glancing up to the TV, the ballgame nearly over now, you took a deep breath and watched as it cut to the announcers talking about other teams and players. DK appeared on the screen, a photo of him from this past season on the pitcher's mound, his eyes pointed and focused on the batter in front of him. The words along the bottom read like a news story, that he was disappointed his team didn’t make it into the playoffs, but that he was getting much needed family time now, so it was worthwhile.

“Worthwhile,” you muttered, looking away.

So it seemed Isla really was with DK. A part of you longed to stay angry at Yeji for not sharing it with the house, and part of you still felt insanely guilty for not speaking up after Yeji had told you, and apparently only you, that she was leaving.

It didn’t make sense, much like everything else.

But, if Isla was safe, if Isla was happy… it was worthwhile.

“Hey,” a voice so cheerful called out, to you, you think. Glancing to your left, toward the boys where the voice came from, you find them both looking at you.

Jesus, they were prettier than any of the boys in ATZ.

“You go there?” Chan asked, looking at your crewneck. Following his gaze, rolling your eyes at the big Nasara letters across your chest, you shot him a solemn glare and scoffed.

“Unfortunately,” you said, and he started to smile, the corners of his lips perking up into something that would easily persuade you to your knees. It was lazy, yet so effective. “You?” Even though you knew the answer, you asked anyway.

Chan swallowed his smile and shook his head. “Nah, but my sister does,” he said. His eyes you’ve seen before, he wore them like Yeji wore hers, trying to pierce through your own, trying to see through you. Chan’s were less confronting though, he just seemed like he was trying to figure you out. “She’s in a sorority or something.” The boys sipped their beers and acted like they weren’t honed into you, glancing away when neither was speaking.

“ITZ?” you asked, keeping your voice steady, and Chan nodded.

Minho scrunched his nose. “My sister went through them,” he said, and Chan elbowed his bicep. “What?” he snickered, elbowing him back.

“You make it sound like a bad thing, bro,” Chan said, flickering his eyes to you. “You know it? ITZ?”

Settling your lips into a smile, one that made Chan look away for a second, you nodded. “I know of it.” Turning to Minho, you asked, “Why’s it so bad?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno, forget I said anything,” he mumbled. “I didn’t go to college, so what do I know?”

“Probably plenty,” you said, gaining his attention back. Shocked, his eyes were wide as he looked at you. “People make college out to be something that’s necessary, but I don't really think it is. If you wanna do it, you do it. If you don’t, who cares?”

Minho shared a snicker with Chan. “My mother,” he sneered, then dropped the smile when he turned back to you. “Excellent perspective for someone who’s able to go to Nasara.”

Chan elbowed his cousin again, this time tossing his hands out to the side. “Dude, my dad went to Nasara, what are you getting at?”

Minho simply smirked, then leaned toward you a bit. His eyes were captivating, galaxy filled. “How is it? ITZ?”

Raising a brow, you asked, “How’d you know I’m a part of them?”

Minho narrowed his eyes. “I do now.” Straightening out where you sat, Hope popped back around and brought you your drink. Giving her a small thank you, you peeked at Minho’s smug face and clenched your jaw. “How is it? A dream, I’m sure.”

Wrapping a hand around your cold glass, you found Chan studying you, every inch. “It’s a dream,” you muttered, taking the straw out of the cup, drinking straight from the glass. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Minho said.

Chan waved a hand, confused. “Okay, I don’t get it,” he said, making both of you look at him and his twisted brows. “Mina’s having a great time there, what am I missing? Do I need to be worried?” Your stomach flipped. “Last time I spoke to her, she was fine.”

Minho shrugged, sipping his beer, pointing his attention to the TV.

Chan looked to you for help. “I’m not really good at picking subtle shit up, so you’re gonna have to give it to me straight.”

Taking another gulp from your glass, you set it down with a bang and ran your tongue over your teeth. “Listen, Ch-” His name almost tumbled from your lips, right as you realized that he never told you his name. These boys had no idea who you were, and you were to act like you had no idea who they were. “Mina’s your sister?” He nodded, waiting with an unhuman like patience.

You had two options.

Give it to him straight, like he said, which would out his sister, or you could lie to him, and make it seem like ITZ was a dream, when in reality it was a nightmare. With another gulp of your glass, the liquor seemed to decide for you.

No more lies.

“Okay,” you sighed, Minho now watching you, too. “I kinda lied to you both, in a way. I know you. Mina’s my Vice President.” Chan didn’t move. Minho, though, held back a smile. “Last year, when she was a freshman, she was really quiet. Super sweet, but quiet.” Minho shot his cousin a look and received another elbow to the bicep. “Even when this year started, she was so… nice.”

“Now you’re lying,” Chan muttered, breaking his eyes away to sip his beer. “Mina’s not nice.” 

“Chan,” you said steadily, making him look at you with the surprise that you knew his name already. Minho’s smile grew. “No, she’s not. Mina’s not nice.”

“Here we go,” Minho whispered, taking his beer to his full, pink lips. Chan had frozen in place, and though it left you a little uncertain whether or not you should continue, not knowing what would happen, with knowing what you know about this boy…

You kept talking, and it wouldn’t stop.

The words kept coming, the information spewing faster and faster with each gulp of liquor. You left out details they didn’t need to know, details you told Keeho, but they got everything they needed to know. 

Everything Chan needed to know.

And, after many, many minutes of him barely blinking as you told him all about his darling little sister and how she’d been acting, what she’d been a part of, you took a long, deep breath, feeling lighter than ever.

Minho nodded once you had finished, the tiniest smirk gracing his lips, like you had reiterated a story he’d heard plenty of times prior to tonight. He uttered the quietest, “Sounds like Mina.”

But, it wasn’t until Chan’s lips parted, to intake a breath, that you finally felt any sort of pure, euphoric satisfaction. 

“Why would she lie about me?”

The last two weeks caught up to you, you could’ve broken down in tears, absolute joyful tears, but he spoke again, so you kept it together.

“You’re Aurora,” he said quietly, putting his own puzzle pieces together. “I’ve heard your name before. A few times actually. When she’d talk on the phone to her sorority girls, or whatever, and then when that boy would come over.” 

That boy. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a sheepish shrug.

“She hates you,” Chan said, filterless. 

Rolling your eyes while Minho laughed, you couldn’t help but crack one yourself. “Figures, she’s an accomplice in trying to ruin my life.”

“Aside from the boy thing, I can’t see why she’d try so hard to ruin…” His voice trailed off as he stared at you. “Aurora,” he said, quieter this time. Squishing his brows in the center of his forehead he glances behind you, lifting his chin to peek at where you had come from, back toward Keeho, and your father.

“What?” you questioned, following his line of sight to Keeho and Yeonjun, your dad glancing over at the same time, catching a glimpse of the boys, then quickly turning away. He leaned forward on the table, placing his chin in his hand, hiding part of his face.

“Holy shit,” Chan mumbled. Minho looked back and forth, then landed on you with an unreadable pout of his lips. “That’s your dad, isn’t it?” Gulping, electricity buzzed beneath your skin. Anytime someone brought up your dad, you had to prepare for the worst. 

“Yeah,” you said just above a whisper.

Chan tightened his jaw, then settled his gaze on you. “Do you… know who my parents are? I mean, Mina’s parents? I guess mine work too, but, hers make more sense, you’re dealing with her, but, I mean mine make more sense in this situation, ‘cause my dad kicked your dads ass, and-”

“What?” you gasped.

“Our parents know each other,” he said. “You’ve never heard of this before, have you?”

Sitting forward, leaning toward them, you shake your head wildly and laugh aloud. “Do I look I fucking know any of this?”

Minho averted his eyes to the bar. Chan stacked his arms on top of one another and rested them on the bar.

“I think, if I remember it right, your dad was a real jackass,” he said.

Making a face, you got a laugh out of Minho. “Tell me something I don’t know, Chan.” “My parents, Beomgyu and Faden, and his dad, Taehyun,” he paused, hoping a name would trigger something, but alas, you’ve never heard these names a day in your life. “They were all friends, your dad included. Yeonjun, right?” You answered with a meek nod. “Yeah, they were all really close, like through high school and all that, but one day when they were, like, twenty, your dad was an asshole to my mom, so they wrote him off.”

Taking a minute, processing what he’s told you, that you have more history than you think with these boys, with Mina, you rub your eyes and slide your hands down your cheeks with a groan. “So, she’s doing this to me because my dad was an asshole to your mom? What the hell did he do?”

Chan shrugged. “I wish I could tell you, I didn’t hear any details. I just know the vague version. Mina and our mom are pretty close though, you might be able to get it out of her.”

A harsh laugh came from your chest. “Yeah, okay,” you widened your eyes and shook your head. “That bitch won’t be hearing from me ever again.”

“Hey,” Chan lowered his brows. “That bitch is still my sister.”

With a breath, you asked, “You’re gonna tell her all this aren’t you? That I told you?”

“Probably,” he said immediately, and Minho laughed. “But, as much as she’s my sister, I stand by what I said, Mina’s not nice. And, since she had no problem using my disability for her own gain, I can tell you this, to help you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Minho whispered, the sneaky smile appearing on his lips again.

Chan raised his brows and shot his cousin a smirk. “Oh, I would.” He looked at you. “Plus, you’d find this out anyway if you looked for it yourself, but I could give you a headstart, Choi.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt anyone, Chan,” you said, which was the whole truth. Revenge was cute, but you don’t think you could stomach anymore drama.

“It won’t hurt her, but I know somebody who’s really good at putting her in her place. Our mom can get so wishy-washy with her, ‘cause we’re girls,” he said in a silly voice, pretending to flip his hair, getting you and Minho to laugh, “But, her dad? Soobin? As much as he is wrapped around her finger, yanno, ‘cause that’s his daughter? He doesn’t let her get away with shit.”

Her dad. The tall one with the glasses in that photo from her high school graduation. The one she said reminded her of Yunho.

“Chan, that’s wonderful and all,” you said and he smiled. “But, in no way am I just going to be able to walk into his home and accuse his daughter of being shitty.”

He shared a look with Minho, then said, “He holds a lecture at Nasara every Monday.”

A chill ran down your spine. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head and cracked a laugh. “I’m so serious,” he said. “Every Monday, sometime in the afternoon, on the law side of the school. He has a friend on the board or something, so either way, no matter which one you go to, you’ll get something done.”

Sliding off the stool, a newfound energy in your veins, you grabbed your almost empty glass and smiled. “Thanks.”

Chan shrugged. “She deserves it after what she did. To you and me. Damn.” Your smile went crooked, and he shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Sorry you had to hear all about my fucked up brain.” Minho gave him a gentle elbow to the bicep as if to tell him the opposite.

“No, I’m sorry,” you said, and he attempted to smile. “You don’t deserve that. Your own sister should be there to support you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, twisting so he was in line with the bar. He looked away from you and you took that and Minho’s hand planting on his shoulder as a sign to part ways. Your eyes fell to the dog tag around his neck, like they had when they walked in.

Curious, you said, “Your tag,” and he looked over at you, “What’s it for?”

Chan took it between his fingers and held it up. It was covered in writing you couldn’t read from where you stood. “My dad,” he said, reading what was engraved on it. “He got them when he hit ten years of sobriety. It came with two. He gave one to me and my brother.”

You smiled, something soft. “That’s amazing.”

“It is,” Chan breathed, still studying the necklace. Dropping it to his chest, he looked at you. “He’s almost at twenty.” Then, he looked at his beer with only a few sips missing and pushed it away. Minho huffed a laugh and switched their cups, putting his empty one in front of Chan.

“You finished it,” he joked, then drank from his cousin's cup, focusing his eyes on the TV.

“Bye guys,” you said, and Minho gave you a wave with a couple fingers from the hand with the glass in it. 

Chan watched you start to walk away, then shouted your name to make you turn. “I’m sorry, too. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”

He worked his face into a questionable smile. “How?”

Gesturing around the building, you shrugged. “I have my ways, Choi.”

october 5th ~ saturday ~ 12:15 a.m.

“He said, answer me, Rory, please, let me explain, I can explain,” Keeho read your messages out loud, laying on your bed with his long legs stretched out along your mattress. Using funny voices for each person, he had you laughing from the floor where you were digging through drawers looking for something to wear to bed since everything was in your drawers over at Nasara.

“I should just block him,” you said, and Keeho threw a fist in the air.

“I second that,” he said. “Let’s do that!”

Nearly breaking your neck to look at him, you threw out a hand. “No!”

The look he gave you made you giggle. “And, why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “I wanna see how much he begs.”

Keeho’s eyes widened as he flipped to his stomach on your baby blue comforter. “Aura, you take your men submissive.”

With a huff you turned back to the beige drawers you’ve had since birth. “Not in the slightest.” It was give and take for you, unless you were with Seonghwa apparently, and mother of god, you’re lucky he didn’t ruin you for life.

Your beaten up white wooden door creaked open and Yeonjun poked his head inside. He glanced from Keeho on your bed pushed in the corner, to you on the floor a few feet away from him. The ceiling fan spun on a low speed, making the yellow light from the old bulbs flash in a way that would keep you busy as a baby as your dad would say. 

“Yes?” you questioned, and he popped a smile on his face.

“You staying?” he asked Keeho.

“I think so,” he mumbled, looking up from your phone only once. “We’ve got a lot to work through here.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun said, making a face to signify his understanding, letting Keeho get back to your messages. Looking back at you he said, “No funny business in here.”

“Dad, it’s Keeho, he sleeps here all the time,” you deadpanned, and he laughed.

“I know, I know,” he said, stepping into the room for a moment. “Had to tease, I miss having you guys here.”

“I second that,” Keeho said, his tone flat, though you know he meant it with all of his being. Yeonjun glanced at him and laughed to himself. The boy didn’t even look up from your phone.

“Goodnight,” he said, then smiled at you. “I love you.”

A comfort washed over you. “I love you, too.” He went to pull the door shut, stepping out into the hall, but then you called him back. “Dad?”

“Yes, Aura,” he said, looking down at you.

Swallowing, suddenly feeling like your throat had closed and you wouldn’t be able to get the words out, you whispered, “Did you know those boys at the bar? Chan and Minho?” He was silent. Thinking. “Do you know who Beomgyu is?” A breath corrupted his lungs. “Taehyun?” Blinking a mile a minute, he averted his eyes to your carpeted floor. “Faden?”

It took him a second, but he managed to say, “Yes, I did. I knew them. Not the boys at the bar, but I assumed they… belonged to some of them, the names you said. They look just like them.” You wondered if it were true for you too, if you looked anything like your father. Or, your mother.

“Mina,” you said, and he looked at you, his eyes now wider than they normally would be. “She’s Faden’s daughter. Faden and Soobin’s daughter.” “Soobin,” he whispered. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“When’s the last time you saw any of them?”

He stuttered a bit before he said, “It’s been a really long time, Aura.” Things went quiet for a second, then he asked, “The boys tonight, who do they belong to?”

“Chan, the one with dark hair, he’s Beomgyu and Faden’s son. He’s a twin,” you said, and Yeonjun tipped his chin upward, his lips curling into some type of smile, like he knew something you didn’t, and shouldn’t know. “Minho, the other one, some guy Taehyun is his dad.”

Your father met your eyes with a fierceness. “Who’s his mom?” he asked, and when you shrugged he laughed aloud.

“Holy shit,” he sighed, taking a long breath after his laughter subsided. “Those motherfuckers.” Letting him mumble to himself, you gave him another goodnight as he circled around and went to pull your door shut. “Those crazy ass motherfuckers.”

“Aura,” Keeho said, wanting your attention. Pulling sweatpants from high school out of your drawer, you stood up and took two steps to your bed, dropping the pants on Keeho’s lap. There was little space to put them elsewhere. “Who is ‘ignore this jerk’?”

Shimmying out of your jeans, you breathe through a laugh and jump into the sweats you brought over. “Wooyoung, why?” Reaching up a hand to pull on the string hanging from the light on your ceiling, the room falls dark. Climbing over Keeho, wedging yourself between him and the wall you pop your chin on his chest to look at your phone with him. “Guess I should change his name now, huh?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘hi’,” Keeho said, then gave you a funny look. Snatching the phone from him you groaned and started typing back to him. “Who says hi anymore? Who does he think he is?”

“We’ve been talking, Kee, since Saturday night,” you mumbled and Keeho flipped to his side dramatically, facing you. Tucking his hands beneath his cheek on your pillows he exhaled heavily.

“Enlighten me,” he said.

“There’s nothing,” you said, shrugging with your hands, the light from your phone screen bouncing off his sharp features. “We just check in on each other. I’ve seen him in passing. Nothing more. He’s been living with his cousin in Delo, I think.”

[ignore this jerk]: hi

[you]: hi

[ignore this jerk]: how was your day

[you]: it was alright, had something interesting happen, how was yours

[ignore this jerk]: same here, had something interesting happen

[ignore this jerk]: you go first

[you]: it’s a lot, are you sure

[ignore this jerk]: …

The bubbles vanished as quickly as they’d popped up. Then, ‘Incoming Call: ignore this jerk’ was lighting up your phone screen. Keeho almost screeched.

“Answer it, answer it, answer it.” He said it about seventy more times.

“I’m in bed,” you sneered.

Keeho rolled his eyes, “Yeah, with me, answer it.“

“No! I will not do this to myself right now, I can’t handle anymore-“

Keeho took it upon himself to slide his finger over the green answer button, cutting you right off. Your heart lodged up into your throat as Wooyoung appeared on the screen, lit up by warm, dim light. He wasn’t looking when you appeared, his side profile on display. His nose on display. Tanned skin, dark hair in waves exposing his forehead, he wore a black cutoff tee and silver studs in his ears.

“Oh my god,” Keeho muttered out of sheer gay panic. Slapping a hand over his mouth, Wooyoung turned to his phone and gave you a small smile. 

“Who was that?” he asked, walking himself around whatever room he was in. Glaring at Keeho, you turned the phone to put your friend in the little box, and Wooyoung laughed. “Am I interrupting something?”

“God, no,” you said, and Keeho let out his own laugh. “This is Keeho, he lives down the street. We’ve known each other since we were eleven.” 

“That’s cool,” Wooyoung said, looking at the screen, finally finding a spot to settle. “Hi, Keeho.” Your friend uttered the smallest hi, and you wanted to lose your shit. Who says hi anymore? “So, you’re home, then?”

“I am,” you said. “I haven’t been in the house since Sunday.”

Wooyoung popped his brows. “What’s Tori have to say about that?”

“No idea,” you mumbled. “Keeho’s been reading through my messages I haven’t opened all week. We haven’t gotten to Tori’s yet.”

“I’m sure it’ll be crazy when you do,” Wooyoung pushed his lips to the side.

You didn’t even want to think about it. “What’s so interesting that happened to you today?” Changing the subject, Wooyoung didn’t seem to care. He glanced up and around the space he was in, and smiled.

“I, uh, got an apartment,” he said, smiling at you.

“Holy shit?” you gasped, sitting up, leaving Keeho behind on your pillows. Pushing your hair from your face, you twisted so you could place your back against the dark blue wall. “Where at? Delo?”

Wooyoung nodded, looking around the room. “Yeah,” he said, proud as ever. “It’s ten minutes from school, a few blocks from my cousin. He helped me find it, we’ve been looking for a day or so, and this place just fell into my lap. He says I got lucky.” The smile that couldn’t leave his lips was triggering your own.

“You got lucky,” you said. “I’m happy for you, that’s really great. You deserve it after what’s happened.”

“Thanks, Ro,” he said. “You should come see it. I kinda wanna talk to you anyways. Just you.” Shifting your gaze to Keeho, he placed a hand playfully beneath his chin and smirked.

“I think we definitely need to talk,” you said, looking at the screen, trying to ease the way your heart was beating. “Sort this mess out.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

It was quiet for a few seconds, you and Wooyoung just gazing at one another through the phone screen until Keeho tapped his foot to your thigh, pulling you from your thoughtless daydream.

“I, uh, I gathered some, um, interesting information tonight,” you said, and Wooyoung adjusted himself in his seat like he pulled himself out of the same thoughtless daze at the sound of your voice.

“Yeah?” he questioned, glancing away for a moment. “Like what?”

You told him what you found out through Chan. Really, you rambled, the buzz still evident in your body, and it was like he could tell with the way he giggled at some of the things you would say, or the words you would use. You spilled it all, and by the end of it all, he was leaning into the screen, his eyes unable to look elsewhere.

“Keeho, you were here for all of this?” Wooyoung asked.

Turning the phone to show your friend, he shot the phone a thumbs up and Wooyoung sighed. “Don’t believe me, Wooyo?” You turned the phone back to your face and found him surprised. “What?”

“You… Uh, I haven’t heard you say that in a long time, that’s all,” he said, his volume dropping astronomically. You couldn’t remember the last time you called him that, the nickname rolled off your tongue with such ease you didn’t even see it coming yourself. “So, what are we gonna do? We gonna go talk to this Soobin dude, or what?”

“Do it!” Keeho shouted, making you and Wooyoung laugh.

“Ro?” Wooyoung asked, one of his brows perking up.

Glancing between Keeho and your phone, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s do it.”

october 7th ~ monday ~ 8:03 a.m.

It happened like a movie, like the rest of your life had been apparently. One shoe on, you hopped on one foot toward the front door slipping the other on your foot, almost tripping and face planting onto the floor. He texted you that he was here, waiting outside in a car you’ve been in only a few times before when he’d driven you around for a date here or there. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, or why the feeling was so large within you.

It was Wooyoung. You’ve done this before. He wasn’t anything to you at the moment, if anything, he was a friend. Or, trying to be, you think.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you grabbed onto the doorknob to the front door and yanked it open, spotting him down by the curb in the blacked out BMW.  All four windows were tinted, you couldn’t see him in the driver's seat which only worsened the feeling in your gut. You felt like a teenager getting a ride from her high school crush, it was somewhat humiliating.

Even more so when your dad appeared around the corner by the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you?” he asked, leaning against the edge of the wall where the kitchen met the hallway to the bedrooms. Turning toward him, you smushed your lips together and let out a sigh.

“I’m sure,” you whispered. “We’re going to go talk to Soobin today.”

Yeonjun curled his lip, pushing himself off the wall. Taking slow strides toward you, he folded his arms over his chest. “Enjoy him. Last I heard of him he’s a stuck up son of a bitch.”

You wanted to laugh, and you did a bit, but you frowned. “Dad, you don’t know him, don’t talk about him like that.”

Yeonjun furrowed his brows, looking you up and down. “His daughter is terrorizing my daughter.” He narrowed his eyes. “My very smart daughter who doesn’t let anybody treat her like this.”

With a breath, you said, “That’s why we’re going to talk to him.”

Darting his eyes to the glass door behind you, eyes gobbling up the BMW, Yeonjun looked back at you. “That’s Wooyoung? The guy who started this entire thing?”

“He didn’t start it,” you said. “Well, I mean, he kinda did, but he didn’t mean to. Yunho, remember?”

Yeonjun twisted his brows and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t keep track, Aura, what did I say about getting involved with the boys?”

Breathing through a laugh, you groaned soon after. “It’s over, all of it, I promise. No more boys.” Dropping his hands, he gave you a curious look, glanced to the car once more, then smirked.

“Sure,” he said. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you nodded. “We will.” Turning toward the door, you looked back over your shoulder at his smile. “Don’t get arrested again.”

“Aura!” he shouted while you laughed, following you out of the front door and onto the porch. “That was one time! You were ten!”

Walking down the lawn backwards, you held out your arms and grinned. “One time too many!”

Swatting your words away with his hand, he watched you as you spun around and yanked on the door handle, pulling the door open to the leather interior and a boy sitting in the driver's seat, waiting for you with a small smile. Looking past you, to your dad on the porch, Wooyoung held up a hand to wave, and thankfully, thankfully, Yeonjun gave him one back.

Saying your last goodbye, you pulled the door shut and sank down into your seat, feeling entirely out of place in the incredibly neat car. It smelled like cherries, and every crevice of the dash was sparkling. You knew the boy driving would look even better, you felt too nervous to even sneak a peek at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with a small laugh.

“Nothing,” you breathed. Your dad took himself back inside, leaving the two of you to go off on your endeavors. “I think I feel nervous to do this.”

Wooyoung settled his lips into a smile and faced the steering wheel, grasping the shifter with his right hand. “You’re allowed to be nervous. This stuff is wild.”

Pulling out of your neighborhood, one he’s definitely not used to though he wouldn’t show it, he took you out onto the main road and started for Nasara. From the southside of Tamoe to Delo, it took about an hour, and then once you were into Delo it took another half hour to get onto campus. Settling back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable, your lungs tighten in your chest at the realization that you were going to be stuck here with him for an hour and a half. The longest you’d have spent with him, sober, since last semester.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he looked over at you. “Ro, what’s up?”

Rubbing your hands over your thighs, you took a breath and shrugged, keeping your focus forward. “Nothing, just thinking about what I’m gonna tell him.”

Wooyoung curved his brows upward, focusing back on the road. When it got quiet, it was suffocating. He was here next to you. He drove an hour or so to your house, to pick you up, to bring you to school when your dad could’ve done it for you. The last time you’d seen him in person, maybe Thursday, in passing while walking to a business lecture where he told you he’d been passing you every Thursday since the semester started, you just never noticed. You’ve never had so much time to say so much, and it was overwhelming.

“Ro,” Wooyoung said again after a minute or so of silence aside from the radio.

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth and twisted in your seat, pulling your legs up onto the leather seat, fighting with the seatbelt in the process. Adjusting accordingly, frustratingly so, you tossed your hair backward once you were situated and groaned, finally looking at him and his amused little smile.

“Better?” he questioned with a subtle laugh.

Expressing your annoyance with an audible sigh, you clasped your hands together and placed them in your lap. “You want me to go off? I’ll go off.” With both hands, you shoved his shoulder and he gasped, grasping the wheel with both hands. “Fuck you. I cannot fucking believe that you’d do that to me. Do you know how embarrassing it was? Me and Tori walking into that bedroom to that?!” He shot you a confused look, bracing himself for impact again as he slowed at a red light.

“You and Yeji? After everything we shared all year, this is how you treat me? Sleeping with her? For what, Wooyoung, for what!” He hid his smile amidst your shouts, catching on quickly. Keeping quiet, he let you go off. “You piece of shit, you know everyone warned me, right? I should’ve fucking listened, that Jung Wooyoung doesn’t have a loyal bone in his body. I didn’t believe them, but guess who fucking does now?” 

Taking a breath, a laugh threatened to sneak through, and it almost did. It wasn’t until Wooyoung laughed first that yours boiled over and you lost it. Leaning against the seat, covering your face with your hands, you let out a sound of relief and looked up at him, baring his teeth, his laugh echoing within the tight space.

“How- How long have you been waiting to say that?” Catching his breath, he calmed himself the best he could as the traffic in front of him pulled away.

“Too long,” you said, shaking your head. “Months. Can you tell I had it rehearsed?” Wooyoung laughed again, loud, bobbing his head. “You really hurt me, yanno?”

He looked at you for as long as could while he drove, his smile wiping away in an instant. “I know,” he said. “And, I’m sorry. I’ll always be sorry, I don’t even know what to do to fix it all, but I promise you I’m gonna try.”

Glancing at the road, then finally allowing yourself to take in his appearance, the boy dripping in black and silver, you solemnly smiled. “Last Saturday was a huge help.” 

He huffed, shaking his head. “You can’t forgive me that fast, Ro. It was all so shitty, who the fuck does something like that?”

“Somebody who’s also hurting,” you said just above a whisper, shutting him up. He pulled his lips between his teeth and attempted to hide his sigh, but it was heard. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

“Whoa,” he said, screwing his face up. “No, don’t say that, are you kidding?” He met your eyes, another red light. The power within him was staggering. “I had the best. You understand that?” The small shake of your head could’ve physically pained him. “God, I could kill them all,” he muttered, facing the road to move with the other cars. “Ro, don’t let them make you feel like that. You used to be so carefree, you couldn’t give two shits about what someone said about you.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Wooyoung glanced at you, his eyes pointed. “It’s you. That’s what made me fall for you in the first place, are you kidding? You’re so different from any of those girls in that house.”

“I’m not like other girls,” you said, and his laugh made you laugh.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

Letting your eyes drag over his body, you said, “I don’t think I do. We never talked like this.”

“That’s the problem,” Wooyoung snapped a finger and let it fall onto the shifter. “We never talked like this, no one there does, we were doing what everyone else was doing, we were following a socially constructed system that does nothing for true connection.” Your silence made him look at you, and when he found your parted, surprised lips he smiled.

“You are smart,” you joked, and he shrugged, smug. “I knew you were smart, I hope you know that.”

“I do know,” he whispered, giving you a look.

“You sociology major, you,” you whispered back, smiling. He shared it with you for a second only.

“Ugh,” he groaned, looking at the road. “That’s also why I feel all the more shitty for doing what I did, because I knew what it would do to your brain, scientifically. And, I feel even worse for standing by, watching it happen. I could’ve ended it all so much faster, but I had faith that you’d figure it out, but it only got worse each time I saw you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to laugh. “Yeah, I fell into Seonghwa.”

Wooyoung tried to laugh with you. “Shoulda stepped in then, that’s how you know it’s going downhill.” Reaching out a hand, you put it over his where he worked the shifter, changing gears as he drove through Soro now. His breath hitched in his chest at your touch. “Ro, I know I said something Saturday night, but you were drunk, and I don’t know how much of that night you fully processed.”

Dragging your thumb over his olive skin, you felt the corner of your lips prick up. “That I may have gotten over you, but you’re not over me?” He released a breath like he’d been holding it in since you sat down. “Wooyo,” you whispered, and he turned his chin quickly, his eyes full of hope. “I’m not over you.”

His hand beneath yours flipped over, his fingers lacing between yours as he took the slowest deep breath. The car came to a stop and he laid his head back on his seat, closing his eyes for a few seconds. 

“I feel so silly,” he whispered. Giggling, he opened his eyes to shoot you a glare. “Don’t laugh at me.” Holding up your hand he was holding, you smiled behind your hands and got him to laugh. “You did this to me, I have never felt this, ever.”

“Like a teenager?” you offered, and his eyes went wide.

“Yes!” he shouted, throwing his head back with a groan. “Since I first saw you, Ro. When we were at the recruitment dinner, three years ago. We were freshmen.” He moved your hands toward you, “You were a pretty freshman,” he moved your hands toward himself, “I was a horny freshman.” Your giggle made him smirk. “We were at ATZ, somehow, and the moment I saw you in the group I just… You know which way my brain went first.”

“Of course,” you whispered, dancing your thumb over his skin. “I can tell you I was thinking the same things.”

He gave you that wide eyed look. “You were a horny freshman, too?!”

You laughed together. “‘Course I was, Wooyo, we were eighteen years old and let loose in a house full of boys like yourself, what do you think we’d be thinking about?”

Thinking to himself, he shrugged. “I dunno, innocent things, I guess.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, grinning wide. “What Tori and Mingi did that night was far from innocent.” The mention of your best friend pulled at your heart.

“I know, I know,” Wooyoung brushed it off. “That entire year though, I couldn’t figure it out. Girls don’t make me nervous, they make me the opposite, actually.”

“We know,” you whispered, and he tried to wiggle his fingers out of yours, but you held him captive. 

“You,” he said through his teeth. “You scared me.” He glanced at you and cringed. “Still kinda do.” This time you did get your hand free, and you shoved him like you did that first time. “Stop! I’m on the road, Ro!” You both laughed. Taking your hands back to yourself, he placed his over the shifter and sighed. “Want me to pull over? Then you can beat me to your heart's content?”

“I wouldn’t ever do that,” you said, touching his hand again. “Keep talking.”

“It was easy to be your friend at first. You already knew Yunho and Seonghwa, so that made it easier to approach you, when you were already talking to them, or hanging around them. I had a buffer, I could bounce off of them.”

“And you bounced,” you scoffed, and a cocky look spread about his face. “Do you know how crazy you would act? Freshman year? Even into our sophomore year, until we were a thing?”

“It’s ‘cause I liked you,” he said, nodding. “I wanted to impress you, I guess. Wanted your attention.” 

“Well, it worked.”

“It did,” he said. “For a little bit.” Your lips formed a pout, one he took his fingers to to mess it up, to make it go away. “Stop,” he whispered. “You didn’t even know.”

“That’s the thing, Wooyoung,” you said. “How did I not know? How did I not see… any of it. You, him, anything?”

The car came to a stop and he faced you. His hand slipped over your cheek, his thumb dragging along your cheekbone. “Socially constructed system. You were wound up in the fun of it all, you weren’t really paying attention, and that’s okay. I, unfortunately, have been blessed with a very emotionally intelligent mother, so I can… see it all. I’m aware.”

Your throat tightened. Begging yourself not to cry, not now, you gulped it away and asked, “How the hell do you have the reputation that you do?”

Blinking, he studied your face. “People see what they want to see. Look at San,” you both giggled, “Worlds biggest slut, and he knows it, but what do people see? The, probably hundreds now, body count? Or, the big, adorable, ditzy baby that is San?” He was right.

“I see the slut,” you whispered, and he smirked. “But, I get it, I also see the ditzy baby.”

You both realized he was touching you at the same time. Intaking a breath, you froze, and so did he. His fingers, soft, gentle on your skin, came to a stop. The air around you caved in, everything about this moment becoming so increasingly overwhelming, and heavy, like there was only one thing to do to get rid of that awful itch beneath your skin whenever he looked at you. You knew he could feel it too, you could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. God, you could jump on him, and you wanted to, and you knew he wanted you to.

A car behind you honked, pulling you both from that, now one thought, daze. Jumping a mile, you both twisted forward, Wooyoung moving along with the traffic around you. It took a couple seconds, but you both started to laugh.

After a few minutes of regaining your composures, Wooyoung asked, “Do you still believe them?”

Turning your chin, you looked at him and raised a brow. “What?”

“That I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t have a loyal bone in his body,” he whispered. “You said you believed them, then, I mean. What about now?” He gave you that hopeful look. “Do you still believe them?”

Reaching a hand over to mess with a few of his waves, smiling at the way it affected him, you toyed with his hoop earrings and shook your head. “I don’t,” you whispered, and his smile warmed your heart. “I believe you, I think, for now. Which is scaring me, just ‘cause of all that’s happened. So, please?”

He tilted his head. “Please?”

“Please be telling the truth.”

Taking your hand in his, he pressed his lips to the back of yours before he started to drive, whispering over your skin, “I promise.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[myunghology]

— ✦ i see us, together, celebrating our anniversary.

featuring tsukasa suou x gn! reader

warnings none!!

genre + context fluff, reader finally answering tsukasa after he courted them for over a year!?! 😱 holy moly — written in 2nd pov!

a/n i kinda teared up making this. why can't someone treat me like how tsukasa suou treats reader. Head in hands

Almost everyone knew. No— probably everyone knew at this point that Tsukasa Suou was courting you. No one could ever miss the sweet acts he does for you everyday in school. Hell, maybe even outside of school if you will.

Tsukasa Suou; Your suitor who asked your parents personally if he could court you, to which he had 15 emotional breakdowns since he was too nervous, since if they don't allow him.. All of his plans to woo you will all be trampled down on. Luckily enough for him, your parents allowed him, though there would be serious consequences if he ever did something bad to you!

When he picks you up for school everyday— technically not him but his driver. While you say that it's too embarrassing, sulking around while Tsukasa finds an excuse for him to be the first one to see your pretty face in the morning.

And in addition to that; he never let's you sit alone at the back seat. When you try to open the door he reaches out to it and slams it shut back again before heading out in a hurry to open the door for you.

Whenever you two go out or are possibly in the same class, actually, no matter where you two are, he's always going to open the door first for you. He doesn't care if you want to open that door first because you want to be 'independent', he's already removing your hand from the door handle to open it first!

Whenever he proposes to go out somewhere nice, he always says, "Give me that, I'll take a picture of you." whenever you try to take a picture of yourself. It would be such a waste if you can't even see the beautiful background behind you in a picture, right?

Even if you don't ask, he already has multiple pictures of you on his phone whilst you sulk once again that you look bad in some of those pictures, asking him to delete them. Meanwhile he laughs, but complies. Though he is a bit sad that you say that about yourself! You always look gorgeous to him.

Tsukasa's wallpaper being the two of you at an aquarium pointing out sea animals, this picture could've never happened if he wasn't taking a picture of you himself, but then some sweet old couple offered to take this picture of you both since young love is so, so adorable.

Putting your foot on top of his knee because he noticed that your shoes were untied, kneeling down just to fix your shoe laces when you didn't even notice yourself that they were even untied in the first place.

Your other classmates have seen him carrying your heavy stuff for school projects to the classroom; even if you two aren't in the same class. Everytime he insists, you automatically turn him down saying that you can carry it yourself. Can you really, though?

He still ends up bringing them no matter how much you tell him that you don't mind bringing them yourself and that him picking you up and dropping you off at your house are already good enough and that he doesn't have to do anything more.

But even so, he probably doesn't care. It's his duty as a knight— specifically your knight to always be by your side to help you. Even when you're not together— he still checks up on you through texts or calls.

He is your suitor, but it is an unsaid rule that you both won't say 'I love you' to each other once you start dating. Making it specifically clear to everyone that he isn't your boyfriend, just incase it makes you uncomfortable.

Buying you expensive gifts, using his money and only his. Reassuring you that it's nothing while you scold him to stop spending so much money on you. "If it makes you happy.. Then I'd be happy to spend more on gifts just for you." "I appreciate it.. But it doesn't make me happy that you're spending so much money on me!"

Learning a love song in your native language just to make you happy, Sending a video of him singing it since he's too ashamed to do it in front of you; Bonus points because he calls you romantic pet names in your native language, whilst you laugh at him in a good way because he way he's trying just warms your heart by itself. "Stop laughing!"

And to which, this day finally comes.

It's been 1 year and 4 months ever since Tsukasa started courting you.

You and Tsukasa were sitting in a cute little gazebo together, the soft wind blowing through your hair as you rest your head on his shoulder, putting your phone right in front of you to record, which doesn't even confuse the male anymore— since he knew that you liked recording you two together, a small sense of intimacy between you two.

"Kasa?" You call out his nickname whilst he hums as a response. "I bought us both something for shits and giggles," You say, laughing, bringing out two fortune cookies, placing one in front of him.

He pouts playfully, but nods, gently cracking it open.

The words, 'Kasa, I love you.' perfectly written on the small slip of paper between his fingers as his eyes widen slowly, his heartbeat speeding up from the written words as he makes an attempt to stop the tears from trying to come out of his eyes.

A small and short laugh comes out of your lips as he finally turns his head to look at you, tearing his gaze away from the slip of paper that he set aside on the table, he laughs back in response to yours, with his glossy eyes and his voice that was now shaking—

"Is this a joke?" He asks in a soft voice, but it's still clearly full of love.

You shake your head, and once you do, not even a second is wasted once he pulls you into a hug; you could practically feel his heartbeat at this point. caressing your hair softly, pulling away after sometime.

He covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, not being able to stop his tears anymore from streaming down his face, you instinctively wipe his tears away with your thumb, Tsukasa's hand making it stay put so he could lay his head on the palm of your hands.

Tsukasa notices your phone recording, he goes near the camera, happily announcing; "they said yes," he sobs out once again, pulling you into another tight hug, but this time, one hand is on your head while you bury it in his neck, his other hand on your waist, his body trembling oh so slightly.

He kisses your head with nothing but pure intentions, a gentle breeze stirring your hair as Tsukasa holds you in his arms.

This causes you to smile, eventually giggling right after. "Stop laughing, I love you so much. You're worth the wait. I will never get tired of pursuing you." This time, he sulks, but he ends up laughing with you.

'Tsukasa Suou, on this day, next year.. i see us, together, celebrating our anniversary.'

©myunghology. — me and who guys. Me and wh-

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Is there any chance you’d consider writing part 2 to Burning desire? Like maybe they are going public but now James sort of “accepted” the fact that he’s in love with younger woman so he doesn’t care anymore what others say. And maybe fans actually loving it on social media saying that “she believed she could so she did” and “why is everyone surprised, it was clear she finds men her age “unqualified” for the job”? Making edits of them? Pretty please? With cherry on top?

I'm so happy that you asked for a second part, I hope you like it❤

Burning desire pt2

part 1

 The Hollywood lights were blinding as I stepped onto the red carpet, my hand held tightly in his. Cameras flashed, voices called our names, and somewhere in the chaos, I heard a few gasps of recognition. I glanced up at James, his rough, handsome face softening with a hint of a smirk. He no longer seemed to care about the whispers, about the decades of age difference, or the fact that he was once my idol before he became my love. Tonight, he was unapologetically mine, and the world would see that.

The journey here hasn't been easy. There were countless nights we spent hidden from the world, away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers. James had wrestled with his doubts, his fears of being too old for me, of holding me back. But I never wavered. I’d dreamed of this man since I was a teenager, his voice echoing in my head and his fierce, commanding presence in my heart. Meeting him had felt like stepping into a story I had written in my wildest dreams, but making him see I was serious? That took a strength I’d barely known I had.

Tonight, though, he’d put those doubts aside. He held my hand as we moved down the red carpet, not looking back, not letting go.

As we neared the end, someone from the crowd yelled, “James! Is it serious?”

Without missing a beat, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek, making the crowd erupt in cheers. “Serious as it gets,” he murmured against my ear, his deep voice sending a thrill down my spine. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. We were out in the open now, no more hiding, no more playing it safe. This was our time.

 When we arrived at his apartment, we were cuddled up on the couch, the soft, cozy glow of the evening light filling the room. James had his arm around me, pulling me close, and I rested my head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing me. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of us in this perfect bubble of quiet comfort.

I had my phone in hand, absentmindedly scrolling through my feed. The usual flood of social media posts filled my screen—fans still buzzing about the news of us going public. At first, I’d been nervous about how the world would react, but the support we were getting was overwhelming. Each new post, each fan edit, only seemed to make our connection feel more real, more validated.

I opened a new post, a fan edit that immediately caught my attention. The song choice was “Cherry” by Lana Del Rey, and I couldn’t help but smile as I pressed play. The video was a perfect montage—clips of us at concerts, walking hand-in-hand, laughing, and stealing glances when we thought no one was looking. The images flickered with lyrics that felt like they’d been made for us, overlays that said things like “She believed she could, so she did” and “ I said real love, it's like feeling no fear”

I leaned back into James, nudging him gently. “Hey, check this one out,” I said, holding the phone out so he could see.

James looked down at the screen, a soft chuckle escaping him as he saw the familiar footage of us. His arm tightened around me, his warmth settling deeper as we both watched. He seemed to take in every frame with a quiet pride, not just for the fans’ admiration but for us, for the love that was now undeniable to the world.

“You know,” I murmured, feeling a little bit shy at how the world was embracing us, “I never imagined it would feel like this. The way they see us... It’s almost like they get it. They understand what we have.”

He kissed the top of my head and nodded, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Yeah, it’s strange, isn’t it? But in a good way. I’m not sure what I was expecting when we went public, but... it feels right. Like we’re finally out in the open.”

I shifted, lifting my phone to scroll through a few more posts. I saw pictures from other fans, edits of us with captions like “Why is everyone surprised? It was clear she finds men her age ‘unqualified for the job’” and “The ultimate love story—how did we not see this coming?” I couldn’t help but laugh, the words feeling like a warm affirmation of what we already knew to be true.

James smiled, brushing his lips against my forehead. “They’re definitely a little... enthusiastic about it,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“I love it though,” I replied, feeling a new sense of confidence. “It’s kind of amazing that people can see us like this, that they don’t think it’s crazy. It feels... normal. Like it was always meant to be.”

He looked down at me, his eyes soft and full of warmth. “It does, doesn’t it?” He kissed the top of my head again, and I could feel the ease in his touch now—how much he’d come to accept this, to accept us, in a way that had been so hard for him in the beginning.

I leaned back into him, letting the peaceful silence surround us for a few moments as the last few frames of the edit played. 

“Do you ever think about how we got here?” I asked, my voice soft as I continued to scroll.

James’s hand gently traced circles on my arm. “All the time,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve completely changed the way I see everything. And not just the way I see love. You’ve made me feel... freer. I don’t care anymore about what people think.”

I smiled, lifting my head to look at him. “You’ve always been a little wild at heart, you know,” I teased, tracing his jawline with my fingers.

He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe, but you make me feel like I can be more than just the rock star. I can just be me... with you.”

His words lingered in the air between us, heavy with unspoken emotions. The quiet intimacy of the moment grew thicker, and I could feel the heat building in the space around us. My heart was racing, my skin tingling as I met his gaze.

Without another word, James shifted, his hand sliding gently behind my back as he pulled me into his lap. His touch was steady, but the way his eyes darkened with desire told me that something was about to change between us. My breath hitched in my chest as I straddled him, the warmth of his body pressing against mine, a proximity that set my pulse racing.

I hesitated for only a second before leaning forward, my lips brushing against his. The kiss started slow, tender, as if we were savoring the connection that had been building between us for so long. But as the moments stretched on, that initial softness deepened into something more urgent, more desperate.

James’s hands slid to my waist, pulling me even closer, his mouth now demanding, hungry for more. He kissed me as though he had waited his entire life to feel this, to feel me. The electric heat between us surged as I responded, my fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened.

I could feel his breath quickening as his hands slid down my sides, gripping me possessively. His lips left mine, tracing a path down my neck, each kiss burning a trail that left me breathless, craving more. The sensation of his hands, his lips, his body against mine—it was intoxicating, overwhelming, like I was being pulled into a tide I couldn’t escape but didn’t want to.

I shifted in his lap, the movement making us both gasp. He pulled back just slightly, his eyes searching mine, a mix of desire and something deeper there—something that made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with lust. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, rough, like he was struggling to hold back.

I met his gaze, my body already answering for me, the desire coursing through me too strong to ignore. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.

With a low growl, James pulled me back to him, his lips crashing against mine once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. We were both lost in the heat of the moment, as if the world outside no longer existed. There was only him, only me, and the way we made each other feel—alive, untamed, and unbreakable.

His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer as I let myself get lost in the intensity of the kiss. The tension between us was electric, crackling with every touch, every movement. I wanted him—wanted all of him, and I could feel him wanting the same. There was nothing but the space between us, the rhythm of our hearts, and the connection that felt like it was destined to be.

He kissed me again, this time slower, with purpose, as if savoring every moment, every brush of our lips, every beat of our hearts. In that kiss, in that closeness, I knew there was no turning back. We were in this, together, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As we finally pulled away, both of us breathless and trembling from the intensity of it all, I looked into his eyes, my heart swelling with feelings that were more than just desire. This was something deeper, something timeless.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice soft but sure.

James’s expression softened even further, his gaze intense and full of warmth. He cupped my face gently, his thumb brushing across my cheek as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you too my princess” he whispered back, the sincerity in his words washing over me like a wave.

At that moment, everything felt perfect. The world outside was irrelevant. We had each other, and that was all that mattered.

[berenwrites]

Caring - Stranger Things - Steddie

Rating: G | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie, fluff

Prompt: Love is letting someone take care of you (@starryeyedjanai)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 1. How could I resist?

Also on AO3 | All my other Stranger Things Fic

Caring: Now It’s Your Turn

Eddie can literally feel the nervous energy that is the only thing keeping Steve going. He’s pretty sure the other man hasn’t stopped moving since they all emerged from the Upside Down.

It’s finally over. The nightmare is finished.

By some miracle, everyone who went in this time is alive, and they brought him back too. Vecna is dead, a charred mess that Eleven made sure was never, ever coming back. Eddie isn’t sure how that happened. He isn’t sure of anything from the time he “died” to the time Steve “the hero who has zero self-preservation skills” Harrington refused to hit him with a nail bat and instead wrapped him in a hug until he stopped struggling.

Apparently, Vecna’s hold on him was worth shit when Steve was in the equation. Well Steve and possibly bats.

The fact that he has a vague sense of Steve in the back of his brain now had been freaking him out, but he is currently settling into numb acceptance. They were definitely going to have to talk about it, but that is a problem for future Eddie. He doesn’t have enough brain power to think about more than one thing at a time, and his current focus is the fact Steve is ready to drop.

Looking at Steve, no one would ever know. Except possibly Robin, because she is giving Steve worried looks too.

Apparently, Steve’s house had become the group’s base for their final offensive against Vecna. Everyone had returned there once it was done, and ever since, Steve had been running around making sure everyone else had everything they needed. They had all taken showers, had clean clothes and food, been patched up for minor injuries, and had been allocated places to sleep. All except Steve.

Eddie had had an embarrassing crush on Steve ever since his King Steve days. Their short time together before Eddie had done his own hero bit had only cemented that and made it grow. It hadn’t stopped. Maybe it is mental exhaustion talking, or the shock of not being dead finally sinking in, but he can’t take his eyes off Steve.

Before the Upside Down it had seemed like such a big, impossible thing. After coming back from the dead, nothing seemed completely out of reach.

He shares a glance with Robin as they watch Steve moving through the huge Harrington living room, checking on everyone, making sure they have everything they could possibly need, and they come to a silent decision. Standing, they both make a beeline to their target. Eddie slips one hand under Steve’s right elbow, while Robin does the same on the other side.

“What..?” Steve starts to say.

“How many fingers, Dingus?” Robin asks, holding up her hand. “I thought so,” she says when Steve squints hard, as if trying to guess.

“I need…” Steve begins.

“To sleep,” Eddie finishes for him.

“But,” is the weak protest.

“No buts,” Robin counters. “Everyone is fine, everyone is looked after. Now it’s your turn.”

Steve looks between them, clearly ready to object, but, surprisingly, sags against their united front.

It makes Eddie smile for the first time since Steve shattered Vecna’s hold on him, as Steve lets them lead him towards the stairs. He doesn’t really have a handle on the fluttery feeling in his chest yet, and he still has to let himself deal with, well, just everything, but it’s a start. That Steve is letting him and Robin do some looking after settles a place inside him.

For now, it will do.

All my other Stranger Things Fic

[tessiex17]

MY CHILDREN I HAVE PROVIDED YOU WITH ANOTHER RAYMAN FIC

You will be happy to hear that this is a 2 parter (second part is in development) since this is infact already 2,147 words WHICH IS KINDA LONG FOR ONE CHAPTER

This does have a fem reader BTW!!!

Short description: set when rayman is attending collage in America before he became famous and he gets invited to a party where he meets y/n

(Also if there are any mistakes/errors in my spelling PLZ let me know as written helps me improve with my dyslexia so any feedback will be amazing 😋)

Tw: alot of swearing, smoking and alcohol, abusive behaviour

"What am I doing?"

Rayman muttered to himself regretfully as he walked down the cold grid iron streets to the address the party was supposedly located. Rayman has always been a social creature, he loved the idea of meeting new people and going on adventures with them but that mindset had been slowly chipped away during his time in America. Specifically American school. He struggled to make social connections in his classes and was quickly deemed an outcast by his peers which was heart breaking for Rayman because he know it was only because he was alien, the people that liked to make fun of him made that fact pretty clear. It was something he couldn't change and even though he didn't choose to look the way he does or be where he's from he still got hate for it and he never really understood why.

Which is why he was shocked when he was invited to a house party by one of his class mates. He just knew he couldnt miss this opportunity to finally mend his social status and make a friend! Which leads him here. Walking towards the door of a house he's never been at before. He let's out a Sigh before raising his fist and firmly knocking the door. He knew he was at the right place, the sound of music and enthusiastic people could be heard quite clearly through the door (it made him almost feel bad for the neighbours).

Before rayman had the chance to knock once more the door swung open revealing the very drunk but very happy class mate that invited Rayman in the first place

"BROOO! You made it! I thought you where gonna be a no show"

The class mate ushered rayman in shutting the door behind him.

"Hehe what can I say, im a man of my word"

Rayman chuckled slightly nervous but intertained by how friendly his class mate was being. He finally takes a look around the house to see that this party was a lot bigger than he thought. There was at least 10 people in each room. Some where in groups chatting away to eachother, some where playing drinking games and others where dancing. A small smile started to grow on raymans face. Everyone seemed to be having fun so it shouldn't be so hard for him to join in right?

"If you wanting a drink feel free to grab whatever you want in the kitchen!"

The drunk class mate spoke a lil more slurred but still sounding enthusiastic. Rayman just gave him a smile and a small thanks before watching him stumble back to a group of people he must have been previously chatting with. 'Now what?' Rayman asked himself as he looked around anxiety curling in his gut like a snake. Does he just go up and chat to someone? He decides before doing anything he should take his coat off which he then hung up on the pegs by the door. He walks further into the house seeing people having fun. ' they make it look so easy' he thought to himself sullenly but a small creature in the corner of his vision distracts him from his thoughts.

"A cat!"

Rayman says aloud to himself before following the cute Calico cat into the kitchen. He doest pay much mind to the people as they seem to be talking amongst themselves. He crouches down In front of the cat petting it gently

"Arnt you just a sweetheart~"

He cous while scratching behind the cats ear. He spots a purple collar and a little silver name tag around the cats neck reaching for it to find out what the cats called. He flips the little silver tag and reads it

"Well hello kaya, aret you a cutie~"

Kaya looks at him Acknowledging he is speaking to her. She let's out a high pitch soft meow that makes rayman chuckle. He always loved animals.

"Of course your making friends with the animals considering you practically are one"

A voice filled with poison and Sadistic Humor spoke from behind him. He looked away from the cat and up to the owner of the voice. It was a guy in a very generic outfit and a blue hat.

"Excuse me?"

He spoke confuse hoping maybe the guy was meaning it as some sort of distasteful joke? Oh lord how he hoped.

"Who the fuck invited this thing to the party!"

Blue hat guy shouted loudly while pointing at rayman looking around the room as he did so. A few people began to giggle and rayman could feel all hope for having a fun night disappear.

"I'm not a 'thing' dipshit!"

Rayman retorted embarrassment making his face feel hot.

"Well what are you then huh?"

He leaned in close to raymans face. There was a short moment of silence before he continued

"Because all I can see is some sort of alien freak!"

The smell of alcohol was reaking from his breath. Rayman didn't like how close he was. How angry he was getting the more he talked. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I-"

"What the fuck is your problem!"

An angry feminine voice spoke causing both rayman and the drunk guy to turn and face her. She stormed towards the both of them before pushing the drunk guy away from rayman.

"You asshole!, what gives you the right to speak to anyone like that!"

Oh lord was this girl mad. Rayman looked up at her in disbelief as she shouted at the guy who was previously insulting him. Was she defending him? She stood tall in front of rayman making sure she was blocking him out of the drunk guys line of site.

"Hes a fucking freak just look at him!"

The drunk guy slurred his words trying to justify his point but the scowl on the girls face just grew deeper.

"Your fucking disgusting"

She spoke lowly to him

"Thinking you have the right to speak to somone like that, do you think your better than him because he's not from here or something?"

She asked with genuine confusion In her voice

"Is that why? Do you feel more entitled than him because he looks different from you?, because if that's the case then that sound pretty fucking racist if you ask me"

She quirks her brow as if asking a question. He stays silent but his anger is clear on his face

"Men like you disgust me"

She spoke her words laced with anger before she turned around and faced rayman. She jerked her head to the side indicating towards the door

"Let's go"

She said kindly to Rayman who looked up at her like she was some sort of godess that saved him. He nodded quickly before grabbing his jacket and following her outside.

"Well that was a shit show"

He muttered to himself while following after her. She made her way to the sidewalk before taking a seat on the edge of it. She looked over to rayman and patted the place next to her offering him to sit down which he does. The air is chillie enough to see your breath as a moment of silence fell apon them. She pulled a packet of cigarettes out her pocket before offering one to him which he decides to take.

"Thank you..."

Rayman spoke timidly.

"Not just for the cigarette obviously but for everything that went on in there"

That got a little giggle out of her. She brought the cigarette up to her lips taking a long inhale of it.

"It's okay, that guys was being a prick"

She faced rayman with a slightly sullen expression.

" I'm y/n, I don't think I got your name?"

"It's rayman... thank you y/n"

She chuckled again a small smile growing on her face.

"You've already thanked me"

She spoke sweetly

"besides I couldn't just stand and watch. That guy was being cruel for literally no reason"

"People stand and watch all the time"

Rayman spoke sadly but honestly his eyes avoiding hers

"Your the first person who hasn't..."

He looked back up at her to see her intently watching him. There was something behind her eyes he couldn't quite place. Anger?, sadness?, he wasn't sure but he just knew that the feelings weren't directed at him.

"Don't say that man, your gonna make me cry"

She joked half heartdly the sound of her voice wavering was clear.

"Oh nonono!, im so sorry!"

Rayman spoke in a panic

"I wasn't trying to upset you-"

"No no, don't worry!"

She placed a finger over his lips in order to get him to stop talking. He's silent. Pleading eyes staring up to gentle one's as she moves her hand away from his mouth.

"It just makes me upset that nobody was willing to help you before. Don't feel like you need to sensor yourself for my benefit"

She spoke softly to him. Rayman was starting to feel like he didn't have to be so much on edge now that it was just them two alone which was new for him. Usually he had to be more alert if hes gonna be by himself with somone. Even thought he didn't know y/n that much he still felt safer alone with her than back in the house. She took a deep drag from her cigarette and so did he.

They sat there together for a while. Talking and laughing between cigarettes and alcohol. Y/n decided to share a good few bottles of her own alcohol with rayman. It wasn't the nicest of drink but it was good enough and strong too. It didn't take long for the both of them to be intoxicated. They where sitting closer together now the alcohol making them loose the concept of personal space as they chatted.

"Hey this place blows, why don't we go back to my place?"

Y/n suggested as she took another swig out her bottle

"We have been sitting outside getting drunk ourselves, would be warmer at yours too"

Rayman spoke semi to himself as he pondered on the idea

"Kmonnnn~"

Y/n whined as she grabbed one of raymans shoulders and shook him playful chanting "My house! My house!" Over and over while laughing

"Okay okay!"

Rayman laughed placing his hand ontop of the one y/n placed on his shoulder in hopes it would get her to stop shacking him

"It is better than staying outside the party we kinda just walked out on"

He chuckled as he stood up reaching a hand out for y/n to help her up. She takes it as rayman pulls her up onto her feet. Y/n thanks him before giving herself a big stretch followed by a pleased groan

"Ahh~ Alright!, let's go!"

She glanced over the floor making sure she didn't leave anything behind before looking at rayman a smile spreading across her face.

"We're actually not that far from my house probably like a 10-15 minute walk roughly"

She tilts her head a little to see if raymans okay with that. He gives her a smile and a goofy thumbs up.

"All good, lead the way!"

He smiled enthusiastically. Y/n just laughs before turning around and walking down the street. She checks over her shoulder to see if rayman is following and motions with her hand for him to catch up. Rayman jogs up next to her before sticking to a walking pace. He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or not but he's having more fun tonight than he has in a while but whatever it is he doesn't want this good feeling to go away. Then suddenly y/n gasps

"Oh my god! I just released somthing"

Y/n spoke in a shocked voice

"What is it?"

Rayman look up to her worried as they walked.

"I can order McDonald's!"

Rayman playful hits her shoulder while chuckling

"You bitch, I though you where gonna say something serious"

"I am serious!"

They both laughed as they walked

"Somthing to eat does sound good though"

Rayman agreed and nodded with this idea they began cooking up

"I just want food"

Y/n whined as she walked down the street and before they knew it they where at her house.

"Home~ glorious home~"

Y/n sung aloud to herself while approaching the door making rayman chuckled in amusement. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her key sticking it into the door and opening it. She stood to the side of the door before doing a little bow while gesturing rayman to enter

"Ladies first?"

She teased as rayman walked by rolling his eyes but the smirk on his face was hard to hide. She chuckled at his lack of a reaction before closing the door behind them

End of chapter 1

So what did u guys thinkkkkk 😋😋

I gave the reader and rayman a silly lil dynamic bc I love bammy interactions I think it's so funny so I made them bams

If you have any feedback LMK and i wanna hear ur opinions of if it should stay platonic between rayman and the reader or should I make it more romantic 🤭

THANK U FOR READING IF U MADE IT THIS FAR XOXO

[cupiohearts]

CUPID IS SO STUPID ?! - kazuha, albedo, kaeya, diluc, aether, alhaitham, childe.

there were a total of 7 people you've been ever loved before. all of them you loved for every word they've ever said. all of them have rejected your love and every word stung.

after 7 years they all got sent your letters. reading it and understanding the same feelings that you had. seeing how you saw them.

KAZUHA was your childhood friend when you were younger. someone who you knew well due to your parents. it was a dumb childish puppy love that no one took seriously not even him.

"kazuha!" you cheerfully exclaimed as soon as you went to daycare. he was at the front with his stuffed animal of a small white cat one that his older friend had given him.

immediately taking his hand inside of yours and holding onto it tight. your parents looked from afar as they saw clear signs their daughter was falling in love with someone. they were whispering amongst themselves about how long it would last till you latched onto someone else.

you paid no mind to this because how could you ever love someone else when kazuha is right there. happily talking to him about your weekends although he already knew since you spent the weekends at his place.

it's been 8 years from kindergarten and you were still friends with kazuha and no matter how hard you try. no matter how many hints were thrown his way he wouldnt pay you any mind. chalking it up to something similar to how a little sister views her older brother.

it was only in the middle of summer did you realize that your feelings would never be taken seriously.

that summer you were sitting on the field with your friends when you saw kazuha from far away. you watched as he talked to his friends and talked to the girls around him. a sting in your heart.

you watched as his expressions changed while talking to them. a face he's never shown you before, the face someone makes while talking to someone that makes them nervous.

he didnt see you as a friend, he saw you more like a sister.

.

.

.

kazuha was now in his late 20's. he wasnt strictly tied down to any work place but he was known to freelance around the crux's fleet.

a shop on the seaside that sold all kinds of goods from the ocean. often seen hanging inside the shop as somewhat of an exibit for people to see considering how pretty he is.

beidou came strolling inside, running her hand through her hair while holding a small letter in her hands. "its for you kazuha. havent opened it yet. its from someone with the intials yn." she says to him. placing the letter next to him where he was admiring the view.

"y.n? i dont think i recall knowing someone with intials like that" he muttered. taking his headphones off and rested it on his shoulders. grabbing the letter and gently opening it up.

a letter. a formally written one. not a typed up one that would be professionally made. the handwriting was hard to read but he could recognize the handwriting still.

'kazuha,

i really really really really really REALLY like you. :D i hope we can still be friends even if you dont like me back because i enjoy hanging out with you and youre my best friend in the whole world! - (y/n)' alongside doodles of stick figures holding hands with flowers and hearts.

theres something written near the bottom in a pen instead of crayon. this handwriting was different. one he doesnt recognize all too well. compared to roughness of the crayon and the letter. the words written with pen were gentle and a bit shaky.

'i just found this. if you ever recieve this letter please visit me someday. i would love to catch up and see how you are'

kazuha felt his heart race a bit. the corners of his mouth glide wider and he chuckles at the letter. "my childhood friend sent me a love letter from back when she was a kid. i wondered why she strayed so far away from me back then.. now i know" he says to beidou. showing her the letter in his hands.

a light blush on his face as he rereads the letter over and over again.

you had drifted apart from him when you two reached middle school. he assumed it was because you two were becoming teenagers and just matured. now he understands it was because you were in love. he supposed you were too shy back then to tell him your feelings.

oh how he wished he couldve told you how he felt.

[captain-mj]

i know you haven't written anything for them in awhile but i still love kraken!price and sailor!graves... could you maybe write price's mating season ending but graves wanting to stay with him? angst with a happy ending maybe

It's been like six billion years since then but you know what?? Fuck it.

Link to the Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Also, I could've swore I put this on ao3?? I went through everything I've ever posted and apparently not??? This has been bothering for hours now but it's clearly not there??

It ended. Price knew rather quickly when it did. He woke up and his insides no longer ached. The raw need to be fucking someone, anything, now nothing more than a faint want.

Two months. On the dot.

Which meant he no longer needed Graves.

Graves no longer needed to stay.

Price's heart hurt so fast and so much it almost knocked him down. He didn't want to let go of him.

He peered from the water to watch his lover Graves fixing up the little hut he stayed in. It was pretty nice honestly, especially after two months of him working on it. He also had softened a little, not longer needing to do the hard labor of being a sailor. His figure also had just softened and he had tanned so much.

Price wanted to wrap his tentacles around him and kiss his face and lick all over him. Maybe put him in his mouth like a piece of candy.

Did Graves want to stay though? Yes, Price could force him. Could never let him escape. He spoiled him anyway.

Graves turned around and beamed when he saw him. He quickly got in the water and started to swim out to him. Price started to back away immediately and Graves paused, bouncing in the water.

"John?"

Even the way he said his name! He said it with so much love. So much care.

"John! Don't make me swim out to you." He called to him, sinking deeper into the water. So trusting. Even though Price could rip him to shreds, especially since he didn’t need him anymore, Graves still trusted him.

Price started to back up more, retreating. His cycle was over. He needed a clear head.

“Thank you, sailor, for your assistance. It was greatly appreciated.” Price rose up, towering over Graves.

“Oh.”

Why did Graves sound so… small? Is it because he’s nervous about Price’s height? Did he feel the tension? The need to claim?

“I suppose you’ll be bringing me back then?”

“Exactly as I promised. Whole. Unharmed.”

Graves shook his head slightly, as if disagreeing. Price felt his worry spike and he immediately dissolved back down into proper Human size as he grabbed Graves.

“Did I harm you?” He had considered himself so careful. That despite the size difference and how fragile humans could be, it was fine.

Graves smiled. “No, lover boy. I’m unharmed. I just do not think I’ll return whole.”

Price frowned and pulled him a little closer. Their bodies fit together well. No matter how much Price shifted and changed, Graves always fit perfectly like be changed as well. Or maybe, Price always changed with him in mind. Funny thoughts.

“Let me return you.”

Graves grabbed him hard. “Wait. Were you planning on swimming all the way to my home? It’s across the ocean. I’ll either drown from going under or die from the sun. Maybe it would be better we wait? I’m sure a boat will pass by eventually.” Unknown to Price, Graves was fishing for more time. He needed to find a way to convince Price to let him stay forever. Or at least the courage to ask so he could be respected and move on.

Price nodded immediately. “Of course! I wouldn’t want to kill you after everything. It wouldn’t be upholding my promise.”

“Exactly!” Graves smiled, something about it fake. “Can I hold on to you for a bit? I’ll miss floating like this. I know the sun is out so it’s fine if I have to wait.”

Price would never deny him. He wrapped around him tight. It wasn’t like he was a vampire, the sun just made him itchy after a while. Relaxing into the gentle waves, they lulled them both. Price was careful not to ever fall asleep before, but he did this time. He made sure Graves was secured to his chest, face in his neck, before doing so.

Huge mistake.

Graves was fine of course but the itchy painful sensation was everywhere. It hurt and even though a boat came by, Graves insisted he stay to help him because he was a pain to take care of himself. When night came, he’d gently rub some kind of leaf that brought great relief to the worst of the places and kiss his cheeks.

“It’s called a sunburn.”

“Sunburn.” Price repeated.

“Exactly! It’s awful but we humans have plenty of remedies.” Graves gave him another kiss.

Price huffed. “Is the kissing part of it?”

“No. I just know I’ll miss kissing you.”

His heart hurt again.

They were stargazing. Between the two of them, they had a name for every star and constellation. Stories woven by friends and ancestors alike.

“That’s the Big Dipper. I’ve also heard it’s a bear with a long tail.”

“I’ve heard it’s a stingray that’s carrying the universe on its back.”

Graves loved that version. Price was rewarded with those giant blue eyes staring at him. Smiling. Soft.

It hurt.

A boat was coming, but Price needed more time. Maybe he could convince Graves to stay. So when Graves was asleep, he forced the boat to change her path and go else where. No where near his human.

And then he wrapped himself around Graves, ignoring his sleepy protests about the cold water. He kissed him until Graves was awake and took him on the soft sands of the beach. Didn’t stop until Graves was sobbing as the sun came up. Body spent and over sensitive and broken.

Graves made sure he kissed him before Price sank back into the depths of their little sanctuary. He didn’t go inside immediately. His legs shaking too much. Instead he made designs in the sand until he could stand up and limp back in.

Price watched him silently. Watched the quiet smile even as his body clearly hurt. Graves couldn’t properly mate him. They’d never be right. He didn’t even know how long humans live.

Still, he was perfect.

The third ship was undeniable. It sailed right to them and Graves spotted it immediately.

There was a quiet between the two.

“How should I handle this? I could bring you there and then put you on deck?”

“I’d be accused of devilry and killed.” Graves bluntly spoke.

“I put you near the ship and you pretend to be shipwrecked?”

“No other survivors? Suspicious.”

Price frowned. “You’re being… combative.”

Graves glared at him for a moment before sighing. “It’s nothing. I’m just being… i loathe to say it. I’m being sensitive. I knew this was two months. I just wished it was longer.”

“Oh?” Price glanced at him.

“Don’t worry. I know the deal. I won’t ask for more. But yeah, I wish I had more time with you.”

Price reacted fast. His tentacles wrapped around the incoming boat fast, crushing it. He crushed their lips together next and Graves kissed back just as roughly.

“Even though you weren’t in heat and therefore didn’t need it, I let you wreck me and it never occurred to you maybe I wanted to stay around??” Graves muttered into him.

“Never occurred to you that I fucked you outside of my mating season?”

Graves paused and recalibrated before biting Price’s lip. “Bastard. I hope they have those candies I like.”

“I’m going to spoil you.”

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: A Tale of Two Reunions (Chapter Seven)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 5.9 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, mentions of alcohol, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors are used, depression, past sexual harassment and sexism, past toxic workplace with pretty terrible HR management, un beta’d. Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, for all your lovely comments and reblogs to this fic so far. It means the world to me. I've been very nervous about this chapter but I hope it works?

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Javi’s never spent much time in Florida before. Besides growing up in Texas, most of his working career has been spent in Colombia, or briefly Mexico at the start. He’s had a couple of meetings in DC, most notably the time he thought he would be fired and instead was offered this promotion. 

Perks of the job, he supposes. Join the DEA and you’ll get to explore new places while stopping the bad guys; that was how it had been sold to him back in the day.

It’s draining though. Today he’s been in three different countries, taken two flights, plus he chased Jurado across a town like he still thought he was in his twenties.  At least there’s only an hour time difference here. At least they get tonight to reset. You and Javi can’t fly back to Colombia until the morning so Javi and you have been booked into a nearby hotel.

You’re still with the lawyers from Justice. In fact, you were the one who had suggested he go back to the hotel, that why didn’t he check in with Steve while he was here, make the most of the unexpected delay? There isn’t anything else he can do right now.

So now he’s at the hotel bar, having just finished a decidedly average burger and fries that was the only meal that met the new expenses policy limits, making sure to pocket his receipt while he remembers, and you’re probably still working.

Since he came back to Colombia, since you came back into his life, he’s only really seen you working in the embassy. He’s watched you make calls, plans, smooth paths and write paperwork. He’s never seen you like he has today though; in full lawyer mode.

You’re impressive.

There were other lawyers there and waiting but it was you Javi was watching, you who took control of the situation and pushed for solutions. You who spoke to them to prepare the testimony from Jurado, who had written the deal out already.

Then when Javi walked back in the room some time later and saw Jurado’s lawyer, he knew. He saw your face, the frustration clear, but you still tried.

He watched you dodge and weave through Starkman’s arguments, to try and make the deal still happen. You were calm, methodical, collected. Every now and then you’d meet Javi’s gaze, looking desperately like you wanted to roll your eyes at him over some unwelcome road bump and then turning your attention back to the moment as thought you had never looked at him.

You’ve both changed so much since Laredo; he remembers you there as shy, nervous, passionate about the things you loved, yes, but never like this.

It’s not enough though.

All that effort, running around Curacao in the sweltering heat and damn near falling of a roof like an idiot, all of it is for nothing. Javi has a feeling it doesn’t matter how skilled you are as a lawyer; it’s all going nowhere without Christina. Jurado won’t talk until she’s safe. Javi doesn’t even blame him.

Javi wonders what that’s like, loving someone that much. Though he wonders how much love there is to expose your wife to that situation, to use her passport to further your work. She was clearly unhappy when Javi spoke to her, he could see the loneliness in her eyes. The Jurados are truly in a sorry mess now.

Javi’s time in Colombia is one step forward and five steps back. Franklin’s wife still hasn’t arrived at the embassy. Javi swears Christina was on board, she was ready when he spoke to her on the runway - she was meant to be on her way so he can’t see her going to  Jurado’s employers instead. No, there’s a rising sense of dread and worry coating his skin like sweat. Things are only going to get worse. Stoddard and the team are trying to find where she might be in the city, to see if they can get her and bring her to the US.

There’s nothing he can do from here right now though.  He’s a passenger right now, until tomorrow, until they land back in Bogotá.  He’s powerless and he hates it.

He notices Steve instantly as he walks over to Javi’s table in the smoking section. Javi moves his empty plate to one side before standing up to greet his old partner.

Steve looks well - being away from Colombia suits him. The last time they’d spoken, Steve had said that things were a lot better with him and Connie, that Olivia was in preschool and happy, that being home was working for him. He’s a DEA consultant now; he trains new agents, provides case studies or advice on how to approach a case. 

He’s not in the field though.

Steve fought his battle. He was there when they took down Escobar.

They order drinks and make the initial small talk before Steve proudly shows Javi the latest photo of Olivia in his wallet.  If anything is a stark reminder of the years that have passed, the sizeable amount of Javi’s life dedicated to this war, it’s seeing that Olivia isn’t a baby anymore. She’s a child with her hair in bunches and a wide toothy grin on her face. Javi wonders if she even remembers Colombia now, if she would remember him or any of her time there.

A few minutes later, Steve takes a gulp from his beer and looks at Javi carefully. His expression is one Javi recognises; this is the moment when Steve is getting to the crux of whatever he wanted to raise.

“I can’t believe they wanted you back,” he says lightly.

“Me either. Thought I was being fired when I went to DC after it all went down.”

“You’re a good agent, Javier. You know we couldn’t have - we couldn’t have done what we did without you. I just still can’t get over that you actually went back there,” Steve continues and Javi gets the sense that Steve means a lot more than just that the DEA had invited him back. “That you’ve spent months back there again and what - you’re in for a few more, another year of this?”

He’s not sure how to respond that, what he’s supposed to say about the albatross of obligation and redemption that’s bound so tightly around his neck that it’s become a noose.

“Job wasn’t done, Steve. The Cali godfathers, all of that - I want to get it right. Besides, I’m not sure now I’m back that they actually did want me back.”

“What do you mean?”

Javi stubs out his cigarette. “They wanted a poster boy.”

Steve laughs at that, shakes his head. “And they thought of you?”

“Hey, of the two of us, I am obviously the better looking one.”

“In my first week in Bogotá, you asked me to sneak papers down my trousers out of a secure lock up.”

“And I stand by that, Steve.”

“How the fuck would they ever have thought you’d just sit there and take that?”

Javi lights a cigarette and shrugs, offering the packet to Steve who shakes his head.

“I quit.”

“I did try the gum,” Javi admits before taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“That seems to be working out well for you,” Steve says dryly.

“Fucking brilliantly,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“So, they wanted a figurehead, not - not you. How’s that going? You didn’t answer me. I know you, Javi, I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“They have tried to make it harder - fucking Stechner’s been - himself. Um, there’s a lawyer who works in tandem with Justice and the Ambassador and is my - unofficial liaison? I don’t know. Unofficially, they wanted her to keep an eye on me.” It feels like a terrible way to describe Blue, to introduce who she is to Steve.

Steve puts his glass down and meets Javi’s gaze straight on.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah. It’s fine though. It turns out I knew her so -”

“Oh god, Javi. She’s not someone you slept with before, is she?”

“Wow, do you really think so little of me?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Javi and yeah, maybe he knows where Steve is coming from. The thing is, despite his reputation, he doesn’t feel like he was as much as a rogue as people wanted to paint him.

“No, she’s from Laredo,” he says.  “Actually, I was good friends with her brother growing up so I’ve known her a long time. Still am friends with her brother. She’s a good person, Steve. She wants the same thing as me. Blue wants us to get the godfathers, shut it down. We need to get real justice for the people, so that’s what we’re going for.”

“Blue?”

“Oh, fuck, it’s just her nickname from when we were kids.”

“So, you’re just working with her, Javi? This woman from your hometown, you’ve known for years you’re telling me? Who you call by her childhood nickname?  Who is your friend’s sister? And you’re just … working together on this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forget I know you Javi and I’m hearing how you’re talking about her.”

“Fuck off.”

“Too close to home? Tread carefully, Javi, please.”

He doesn’t know the half of it, Javi thinks, immediately thinking of the moment he almost kissed you.  He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and doesn’t answer letting silence be his answer.

“How’s it down there now anyway?“ Steve asks after a moment. His voice manages to convey both a desire to be distanced from Bogotá and a sense of wistfulness at once. Javi gets it.

“It’s the same but different, Steve. The godfathers aren’t like Escobar. It’s a whole different type of battle down there right now.” Javi can’t tell Steve about the surrender deal he’s blown up, about the way everything is working out, or rather how it isn’t, about how fragile and terrifying the odds feel right now.

“So, what are you going to do when it’s done?”

“No fucking idea. You’re the one who said I was a lifer.”

Steve pauses and takes a sip of his own drink.  “Yeah, I did say that didn’t I?”

Javi shrugs, raises his beer to his friend in a mock salute.

He’s not sure how to truly answer Steve. He’s not sure what’s next for him; he can’t see himself in Laredo but the job is weighing on him, the job is changing. In all honesty, he has no clue what will come next. Home? His dad’s ranch? The life he originally wanted to escape? It’d be kind of poetic, he supposes. He’s not sure what else there is for him except DEA station after station for the rest of his life, watching his agents take part in missions while he sits in a suit and argues with other people about it.

“Anyway, tell me what’s new with you,” Javi asks instead.

The paperwork and handoff with your Justice colleagues takes hours. A part of you almost enjoyed the discussions with Starkman, the back and forth and chess moves to try and get what you needed.

You’re still not there though and that’s frustrating, draining even. You’re used to getting through a problem, but this one worries you.

Still, Jurado is in custody, the team have a solid case against him and that prosecution will proceed. Javi just needs him to talk and maybe he can get Christina back at the table too.

You’ve done as much as possible right now.

 All you can think about right now is how desperately you’re looking forward to getting to your hotel room and changing out of these sticky, creased clothes, having a shower and then sleeping until you need to get up for Tomorrow’s flight to Bogotá. You’re past the point of wanting food, of wanting anything other than this day to be over and for you to crawl into bed.

You’re finally on your way out of the building when you bump into him.

He looks just like he did all those months ago, back when you were last in DC. An expensive suit, intricately coiffured honeyed hair, wafting overpriced cologne that follows him with every step.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a mix of surprise and horror in your voice when you watch his eyes take you in.  Your palms are becoming sweaty already and you’re desperate to get out of this building, to get as far away from here as quickly as possible.

This can’t be happening. He can’t be here.

“Oh, just a Justice case I’ve been working on. I can’t really -“ he says after a pause.

“Right, of course.” You’re wondering if you can get away with stamping your heel through his overpriced Italian shoes before you run out of the building.

“Why are you here? The last I heard you were working in Mexico?”

You feel a pang of annoyance; frustration that he knows enough about you to know you were working abroad, that he assumed it would be in Mexico. You’re outraged that his tone is as relaxed as it is, almost lazy. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

“Colombia,” you correct. “That’s why I’m here - it’s for the case we’re working on.”

“Damn, that’s intense.”

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice unfamiliar and sharp. It’s the same tone you used to employ in the courtroom against particularly difficult attorneys. It’s your ice queen voice, the one that other lawyers used to dread, that earned you your steely reputation for excellence.

The memories flood you; good, bad, somewhere in between. It’s like an avalanche, as though everything you’ve been avoiding has just hit you all at once and your chest is tight and you’re not entirely sure if you’re even breathing correctly right now.

You left DC to avoid having to go through this. You fucking moved country to avoid this.

How can he be here? What forces have you upset to bring such an awful, obscure coincidence into your day? And if he’s here, what if …

Their names freeze on your tongue. You swallow, even though your mouth feels bone dry. You can do this, you think. You can.

“You took the job I was going for, after everything,” you say, folding your arms around yourself. The hate, rage, and devastation tastes sour like bile in your mouth. “Even after what happened?”

You remember everything.

“It was a promotion. Did you honestly expect me to say no? You wanted that job too, remember? You can’t honestly tell me you have said no if our positions were reversed.”

“Of course I would have.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re kidding yourself if you think that. I know you; I remember what you were like in court. You’re ambitious.”

It’s not a point worth arguing. You know the truth and you know you’ll never know what could have been. You’re sure you wouldn’t have though, you’re sure your moral code would have prevailed.

 In another world though, maybe the positions are reversed and you’re standing in Simon’s shoes. If that had happened then you’d never have bumped into Javi again, you’d be in DC going about your old life with your old friends. It’s unimaginable.

You feel like that version of yourself is dead.

“So, what? Now you work with them?” you probe, because now the wound is open you can’t stop the outpouring, “What, do you all sit in the office together? Have a good laugh and joke about it - about me? Do you join in?”

He whispers your name, gaze fixated on the floor. All you can think is that this man used to be your friend and now he can hardly meet your eyes. You can barely even think of him without your blood pressure rising.

“Nothing actually happened,” Simon says after a moment, “he didn’t actually do anything to you, didn’t even touch you. That’s what you said to me, remember? Look, everything got out of hand, it didn’t need to go down like that.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you take in his admonishment. It’s on you then, you’re the one who rocked the boat, who blew the whistle. No, that’s not right.

“Fuck you. I never want to speak to you again, Simon.”

You spin on your heels, eager to get away, get out of here. Your heart is racing, your body feels numb and the voices of the ghosts that haunt you whisper in your ear the whole way to the hotel. 

“Hey Shelley, it’s Jamie …I don’t think she’s doing so well. I think you should try and get a flight out … I know … I know … Shelley? I don’t know if she’s coming back from this. I think we’re losing her.”

You sink your head deeper into the bath water as though the water has the answers. Maybe Jamie’s right.

You’re not sure who you are anymore, who you can trust.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s all you. Maybe you’ve misinterpreted and twisted it all. You’ve been through it a thousand times and each time the details get hazier, less clear. You doubt yourself more by the day. Some days you’re not even sure what’s real anymore.

You have so much more empathy for any witness you’ve ever put on the stand now.

Maybe Jamie’s right too. You’re not sure how you come back from this? How do you ever go back to the office and just pretend it hasn’t happened?

You’ve prided yourself on being a strong lawyer, on being one of the best in your office. You never give up. Not usually.

This is different though.

You’re so tired. So drained. You feel like there’s nothing inside you anymore, like the process of the last few months has shucked the life out of you leaving only a shell behind.

Your promotion is over. You’ll have to continue to sit opposite them day in and day out and just - pretend? Every day, hour after hour, you’ll just sit there and know they’ll be talking about you the second you leave the room. You’ll be given all of the lousy cases, never progress further. You’ll be the cautionary tale to any other woman in the office who would dare speak up. You’ll be judged, you’re already being judged.

It’s only been two weeks and you can’t do it a day longer.

You’re done.

Your ex-boyfriend is sleeping on your sofa because he’s the only person you have left in this city. Because every other friend you have in this city you have either just realised is not your friend, or you have quietly just shut out until they stopped calling.

Except for Jamie, and that’s only because of Shelley and Carlos. Only because they called him out of worry, out of fear. Only because Shelley wouldn’t let you cut her off and leave you to your loneliness.

In her last call, she had gently suggested changing jobs, seeking a change of scenery - was that how she phrased it? It wasn’t running away, she said, it would be prioritising yourself.  She mentioned that Laredo needed a new ADA.  It felt too close though. You can’t go home broken like this, you’re not ready.

You heard from an old law school friend there was good legal work available in some of the embassies a while ago, that he’d got to travel to amazing countries for his job before he’d settled down in California last summer. Maybe something like that would be far enough away. He’d offered to recommend you for a post if you were looking for something new. You were going for the promotion then though so you put him off. But now?

You rise up from the bathtub, rest your arms either side of the bath and think for a moment.

Maybe Shelley’s right. It’s time for a change.

He sees you in the lobby just as he’s leaving the bar with Steve. Javi feels a little lighter; catching up with Steve has helped. For an hour or so, he’s been able to forget about Christina, to forget about Jurado, to remember when the job was more active, when he had a partner with him on this and he didn’t have to wear a suit and sit in stressful meetings.

Before Steve turned up in Colombia, Javi had felt like he was treading through molasses, every step infinitely harder than it should be. No one cared enough, he was fighting and it felt futile.

Javi scoffs at the memory. Yeah, why is that familiar again?

He waves you over with a casual smile as your paths are about to cross.

“Hey, Blue, this is -” Javi begins.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you say, brushing past him.

Javi looks at your retreating form in surprise. “That was weird.” He’d thought you want to meet Steve, after all you’d encouraged him to meet Steve in the first place.

“She’s upset,” Steve says quietly.

“What? No, she isn’t, Steve.” You’re clearly not upset; Javi knows you, knows how tough you are. No, Steve has to be wrong.

“Well, she looked upset,” Steve persists.

“How do you - you don’t even know her, Steve.”

“I have a wife, Javi, and she looks like Connie when she’s upset. ”

He thinks back to your face as you walked back - everything in your body seemed tightly coiled like a spring and were those tears in your eyes? Your voice was so distant too. Maybe things had been more stressful with the Justice guys than he thought.

He’s not sure where you are in the hotel though; whether he should even try and talk to you right now.

Steve’s right though, something’s wrong and Javi needs to know why.

You make your way to the plane quietly, noticing Javi standing by the gangway, coffees balanced precariously in your hands. He’s wearing his DEA jacket and yellow aviators that he’s clearly had for a while.

He nods in acknowledgement when he sees you.

You wordlessly hand him a coffee before you both walk onto the plane.

The coffee served at breakfast was terrible; maybe the worst hotel coffee you’ve ever had. You’d taken full advantage of a five-minute window to get coffee at the airport; it was a need not a want. You’d bought one for Javi without a thought.

He smiles when he takes the coffee and your fingers brush very slightly in the handover.

“You saw the breakfast coffee then?” He asks lightly, giving you the out. In this moment you think he might be the best person you know.

“That wasn’t coffee. No idea what it was, but it wasn’t coffee.”

The two of you sit opposite each other, your coffees on the table in front of you.

“How was Steve?” you ask politely as the plane begins to move down the runway, “I’m sorry I had to uh, go straight to the room. Think I ate something off.” You hate that such an embarrassing lie is your excuse, that you prefer the idea of Javi thinking that than knowing you were upset, than running the risk of him asking why.

“Are you okay now?” Javi asks before sitting opposite you on the plane.

“I’m fine.”

“Steve thought - I thought … ”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

No, you think, no I have hardly slept and I feel ridiculous that last night took me back like it did.

“I’m fine,” you repeat.

Javi nods at you but his furrowed brow tells you that he doesn’t believe you.

“Still no word from Christina?” you ask, automatically squeezing your knee as you feel the plane ascend higher in the air.

“No,” Javi says, pinching his brow. “Are we fucked without her?”

“We need to find her to secure Jurado’s testimony, yes. But if you have something else, another angle for this case then … maybe we’ll be okay.”

“What is really going on with you?”

Perhaps it’s because he’s persistent, perhaps it’s because he is meticulously trained in extracting truths from people, or perhaps it’s because he’s from home and he feels safe right now. You feel the words rise up though.

“I saw someone I used to work with.”

“And that upset you?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say something to you? Was that why were you upset?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“So did the bastard break your heart back in DC or something?” Javi jokes and then pauses when he sees your face.

You could let him have this misunderstanding. Pin it all on his assumption. You can see the cogs turning, the maths in his head, your near kiss makes sense to him now and your subsequent rejection.

You should let him believe this.

“Javi,” you say softly, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So tell me,” he says bluntly, looking at you with plaintive eyes. “Help me understand.”

“He was a friend and now he’s not. It’s simple. No big drama,” you say, looking out of the window at the cerulean sky all around you.

“Well, something clearly happened.” Javi shifts forward towards you, his elbows on the plastic table between you, hands closer to yours. “Blue, did something happen yesterday? Do we need to -” You can hear a hint of alarm in his voice and quickly realise what he’s assuming.

“No, no. He didn’t - please, it’s nothing. It’s honestly not - I’m just - it’s nothing, Javi.”

“It’s nothing? Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got time.” He shifts, moves his hands across the desk that divides you; the distance between your bodies feeling more like a chasm with each breath.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it, Javi. Nothing happened,” you say, aware you’re just repeating Simon’s own words and excuses to you. 

“Blue?”

There are wars in your head. Arguments screaming and competing to be the loudest. You want to tell him. You can’t tell him.

You have this overwhelming desire to bare your soul right now though, you would like him to know and to understand.

It’s pathetic though, you think, so trifling to someone like him. He’s worked for the DEA for around a decade; Javi’s heard and probably seen far, far worse things happen to people. Simon’s words repeat over and over in your mind.

“Nothing actually happened … he didn’t do anything to you.”

If nothing happened though, why did it affect you so much? You’ve prosecuted far more evil men in your career: murderers, rapists. You know how the world works. That office, those men, even without touching you they broke you down. Sometimes you hate yourself for that, that you let that happen.

“It’s okay,” Javi says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to -”

“I was applying for a promotion, for the same job Simon has now. I would have been running the department I worked for and I was ready for it. I was so ready for it, Javi. I - there were always comments and I’m used to that. I’ve been the only woman in my office many times before. I know what to expect, how to ignore it and block it out. I know people say about me behind my back.”

“Blue -”

“There was this guy though, not the guy from yesterday, not Simon. It was someone else.”

You pause, unwilling to say his name and wring your hands. Just thinking about taking about this has made your throat feel dry, your palms sweaty and there’s a slow building sense of dread.

You steal a look at Javi who’s calm and solid and you realise that right now you do want to explain it to him. You do want to tell him.

You’d like him to understand.

 It’s just finding the right words. The ones that don’t make it sound worse than it was, because you always worry that if you do that somehow you’re taking something away from the people who’ve really been through it. But it’s about finding the words that don’t lessen it either. You’re balancing on a tightrope of trying to convey the right tone, the right intent. You want to be dispassionate when you tell him about something you can never be dispassionate about.

“He made me feel uncomfortable,” you say after a moment. 

Javi furrows his brow at this. You notice the way he fidgets with his hand on the table; a tic you’ve noticed throughout the past few months. He flutters his fingers before clenching them together, it’s a telling physical manifestation of his nerves you’ve picked up over the months.

“Don’t look like that, Javi, he didn’t do anything, not really.”

“So he did do something?” Javi asks, his eyes have become so intensely dark they’re almost obsidian and his gaze is completely focused on you. You notice how he scans you over, almost checking as though there’s some type of physical mark or scar he can find and appoint to this story.

“Hey, who’s the lawyer here?” you ask, desperate to break the moment, shaking your head. Javi raises his hands in mock defeat and you take a deep breath.

“He made comments, a lot of them and they were - nothing unusual at first, but then maybe they felt almost a little sinister and I - I started to feel really vulnerable in the office. I had to work with him on this important case, we were alone and - and I know it was only words but still. Anyway, I made a complaint.” You regard the dark varnish on your nails, notice the chip on your left index finger before you look at the floor. “That was a mistake. Big mistake.”

“Blue,” Javi says sadly.

“I know, it doesn’t sound all that relevant yet. It will. Anyway, it didn’t go well. They just - closed ranks. My promotion was cancelled. I uh - everyone in the department talked about what had happened openly in the office. Everything I’d spent years working towards for slipped away from me in a second.”

“And what happened to the guy?”

”He didn’t face any consequences and uh, that’s where Simon comes in, I guess. He got my promotion. And uh, to do that, he sided with the guy when he spoke to my old boss. They all did. Only Simon told me beforehand that he believed me. Didn’t stop him from going after a promotion though.”

“Fucking asshole.”

“That was the worst part of it all -  Simon was my friend, Javi. I thought he was my friend.”

Even now you can hear the heavy pain in your voice when you say that, the way his betrayal had just been too much and had cut you open deeper than any knife could have.

“Oh, Blue. It’s okay, you don’t have to -”

“So obviously, I couldn’t stay there after that. When this opportunity came up, I figured I should just do it. Seize the day, right?”

“Seize the day,” Javi repeats flatly.

“And I ended up here.”

You don’t feel relief at your confession; you feel embarrassed. Javi’s DEA - he’s probably heard of far, far worse things happening to other women. Here you are, a mess over seeing someone who let you down once. Here you are, the woman who clearly just couldn’t take a joke.

“Stop that,” he says gently, reaching for your hand and gently squeezing it.

“Stop what?”

“I can see those thoughts going through your head. Don’t.”

“I just -”

“What a fucking shitbag,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Wasn’t you,” you say quietly. “It was a while ago, I’m over it. It just bought some stuff up.”

“If you’d told me last night -”

“What, you would have found out where he was and confronted him?”

“Maybe,” he says with a crooked smile and shrug.

“Javi.”

“Blue,” he says, teasingly matching your tone.

“How was Steve?” you ask, desperate to divert attention from yourself. Javi looks at you for a long moment and then nods.

“He was okay,” he says, “It was good to catch up. Hadn’t seen him since I was last in Colombia.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to see him.”

A comfortable silence falls that is only broken when the pilot announces you’ll be landing shortly.

You strain to look out of the window, at the lush greenery and dramatic topography of Colombia.

“It’s a nicer plane than when I first came here.”

“Yeah?”

“I was stuck next to this guy who took up far more room than he should have, so I had to virtually hang over the aisle and then he had the audacity to spend the flight loudly snoring. He also had gas.”

Javi scowls in sympathy. ”Jeez.”

“I know.”

The plane lands smoothly and before you know it, you’re both standing up, ready to get back to the embassy and world.

This flight, this whole trip, has felt like a strange interlude from reality. One filled with ghosts and memories; welcome ones for Javi and unpleasant ones for you.

You’re ready to get back into that open plan office, to hearing meaningless gossip from Linda.

Javi takes your bag from the locker without a word, balancing it precariously with his own suitcase.

“Hey, Javi?” you ask as he hands your handbag when you finally descend the gangway.

“Yeah, Blue?”

“None of my family knows. I told my parents, told Rafa, it was a change I’d been planning for some time.”

“Understood. Thanks for - thanks for sharing that with me, cariño.” Javi nods at you, an unspoken message passing between you.

You’re nervous when you head into the office next day. While you spent most of your working day with Javi yesterday and nothing else was said about what you discussed on the plane, it’s plagued you.

What if he is different with you? What if this is another mistake and he judges you - or worse, what if he pities you? You don’t think you could stand to stay in this job if he looks at you with pity.

He’s standing in his office when you arrive. Arms folded onto his hips, staring at a pile of papers on his desk.

“Hey Javi.”

“Hi.” He looks at up and smiles. It’s a rare sight and you’re glad you’re a professional because his smile could floor you. You have a feeling Javi’s not really struggled for company over the years; that between his puppy eyes and soft smile, the low dulcet tones of his voice, he knows exactly what he is doing.

“So  uh, what’s the plan?” you ask, taking a long sip from the mug of coffee you dutifully took from your office kitchen to Javi’s. You’re very glad the embassy safety representative didn’t see you, no doubt they’d tell you off for wandering around with open topped hot beverages.

You needed the coffee though, needed the defensive barriers you knew it would provide.

You didn’t really sleep much last night.

Jurado is a mess, the deal’s off and no matter how hard you tried, he just won’t talk without his wife.

“We’re going after Miguel Rodríguez,” he says after a pause. “That’s the next step.”

“Have we got a plan?”

“Yeah, we do. Feistl’s got an informant, we can get him, Blue. It’s not over yet.”

“It’ll need some thought, Javi - you don’t want to tip him off. Right now, from what I hear from the local prosecutors, things are not looking great. Miguel’s a loose cannon. It’s a worry. ”

“So, let’s stop him,” Javi says simply. “We’re nearly there.”

“Okay,” you reply, “Okay, Javi. I’m with you.”

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