#first day of class with him he straight up went “i've just been through a divorce be nice to me”

[arcane-strangeness]

had it about up to fucking here with my science teacher we're creeping up on how much bullshit i can take in a day and we're not even 20 minutes into class

[star-sim]

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

[alexiswritingstuff]

Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

Logan masterlist.

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed. 

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer. 

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in. 

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.” 

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.” 

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles. 

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss. 

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired. 

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,” 

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.” 

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.” 

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it. 

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.” 

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further. 

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him. 

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special. 

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded. 

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks. 

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you.  But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through.  "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart. 

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two. 

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice,  "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody. 

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[kairiscorner]

question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (1/4)

miles g. morales — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: miles morales always struck you as an apathetic guy, one who wouldn't particularly take relationships too seriously; until you both fell for each other, you realized... he did indeed fall for you, but he fell hard, way, way too hard for you. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

miles g. morales was, to you, such a cold, apathetic guy who always looked calm and composed in everything he did. he seemed like a guy that, you believed, wouldn't care too much if he was in a relationship–that he would put himself before his significant other; though you didn't have any evidence to back it up, save for how distant he seemed to you at first. but oh, were you wrong.

miles g. morales wasn't really all that insensitive as you thought when you got to know him, in fact–he was more sensitive to your thoughts, needs, and wants more than any other boy had ever been for you. it took a while, but the longer you spent around him, the more obvious was the fact that he truly, truly cared about you, from the bottom of his heart.

miles g. morales was the boy who'd stay after class, waiting for your class to finish so he could meet up with you and just be around you. ask him to explain why he's always risking his ass getting scolded for loitering outside your classroom, he can't give you one straight answer. "we had free time", "i had no where else to go", "i... left a pencil in that classroom. yeah."

miles g. morales would never admit to your face that he does indeed stare at you sometimes when you're not looking. whenever he sits close to you in class, be it behind, next to, or diagonally across to you–he always finds every angle of you to be a perfect angle to stare at and admire. don't be mad that he's looking, though, he can't help himself; you're way too mesmerizing for him to handle.

miles g. morales whose sketchpad gradually became a book full of... you in it. it started off as simple, small doodles of you; little cartoony you's that he found adorable and kept drawing when he wasn't focusing on anything else. but as time went by, he found himself focusing on you and your features more and more, almost as if he couldn't rip his gaze away from you.

miles g. morales had also noticed that whenever you speak, he hangs on to every word you say. he thought it would've creeped you out at first, how he can remember all the little details you'd tell him when you're telling him about something that happened in your day or how he remembers all the names of your pets, friends, favorite restaurants, favorite bands and artists–he hangs on to every word you utter, and he can't help it; your voice is just too tantalizingly sweet and attractive that he can't not listen to every word you speak.

miles g. morales was the boy who would use his intimidating appearance to his advantage and defend you against assholes who wouldn't take 'no' from you for an answer. he'd stare them down and glare at them, remind them for you that you said 'no', and if they didn't get the message the first time... they'll have to get through him to get to you. "i'm not gonna back down just because they're bigger than me, because i don't fear them. i don't fear them because, for all their brawn, they sure don't have any brains. and whatever happens after, i'll make sure you don't get in trouble; i'll shoulder the fault. i'd do this for you, every time."

miles g. morales would never wish to get in trouble or have beef with anyone else, but if it was you that others were bothering, then he'd willingly do everything he can to keep you safe and unbothered. he doesn't care what happens to him, so long as you stay safe, so long as it isn't your face being beaten in. you insist he shouldn't do these things for you, but... he can't help it. to picture you in danger makes his heart feel heavy; to get rid of that heaviness, he does these things for you, because he... he loves you.

miles g. morales doesn't dream at night, or at least didn't dream for a long while–or maybe he did and just forgets what he dreamt of the previous night–but when you two became much closer friends, he began to see glimpses and images of you in his dreams. in his wildest dreams, he was able to tell you in all kinds of scenarios that he felt weird around you–a good kind of weird. he'd feel a kind of warmth in his chest, accompanied by the pitter-pattering of his heart when your eyes lock with his, and he feels this urge in the corners of his lips to smile widely when you smile up at him. and, he'd never tell you this, but... in those dreams, he'd tell you how he really feels, and you'd teach him how to handle those feelings by placing your hands on either sides of his cheeks and pulling him close to your face–your nose feeling so soft against his own when your noses brush together–and with the feeling of your hot breath against his own lips... he wakes up.

miles g. morales wakes up to the reality that you probably only see him as a very good friend, a friend you used to think wouldn't care about those who love him but was proven very, very wrong. the friendship bracelet you made for him sits there by his nightstand, next to a cutely frame photo of the two of you at your birthday party. you designed that photo frame for him, and despite how a guy like him probably wouldn't care for cute things... he finds comfort and solace in a bit of cuteness in his life; he just wishes he could express that to you, you, who is cuteness personified. he wears that friendship bracelet every day–and wears it proudly. he doesn't hide it under his sleeve nor tuck it away when you're not looking; he's always got it on and shows it off by just having it on him. he loves having mementos of you on him, it gives him a feeling he hasn't had in a long time... and he hopes that, by some miracle, you'd feel that feeling for him, too.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @euphovlq @anikaluv @conitagray @q2ie @zalayni

[dilf-rot]

Watching Me, Watching You

Prompt: The Glance: Two people can't stop glancing at each other

Word Count: 1966

MDNI 18+

AN: I got the Wolverine brain rot, so here's the first of many short fics I've been working on. Feedback is always appreciated! <3

Tags: Logan Howlett x Reader, Wolverine x Reader, Reader is a student, Fem!Reader, Set in the X-Mansion, Age Gap implied (Reader is 20+), Light Angst, Semi Public / Outdoor Sex, Fingering, No P in V here, sorry ladies 

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!)

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You notice it when you first walk into the mansion. He looked you over, huffed, and walked away. You hadn’t even introduced yourself to him, not that it mattered, as you would be running into him randomly as time went on.

In classes when he was around you would glance at him, try to figure out what his problem with you was. But, if you were being honest with yourself, you were more so looking at him just to look. He was well built, sculpted and defined muscles, a rough and tumble sort of demeanor. His entire aura was something compelling and at the same time made to push you away. But that only pulled you in further. He had caught you looking his way a few times, smirking as he met your gaze. He was used to this sort of thing, and part of him enjoyed it. He would look your way when you weren’t paying attention. Watching you as you talked to other students, as you went through training exercises, even as you walked past in the hallways, not knowing he was there but feeling someone's eyes on you. 

You weren’t sure how long this had gone on before you became more aware of it, more conscious that his glances weren’t out of malice or annoyance. You noticed him wandering the hall in the evening, he had a cigar in his hand, which was definitely not allowed inside. You followed him as he walked out into the gardens. The sun had set and there were very few lights on, the vibrant plantlife breathing with the gentle wind. 

He came to a bench and sat, lighting his cigar and taking in a drag. He looked up and immediately spotted you, standing half hidden behind a hedge.

“You gonna follow me all night?”

“Sorry,” You turned to leave, to retreat back into the mansion and to never look his way again. 

“Come here,” His voice was stern and something in you couldn’t break away from it. You compiled and walked up to the bench, stopping right in front of him. “Sit.”

He tapped the open space next to him and you followed, the cool metal against your skin made you shiver. The night air crisp as you tried to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. You sat in silence as he smoked, not daring to look up from the ground, or to even utter a sound. When he had finished, he tapped the cigar out on the side of the bench, pocketing its remains in his jacket. 

“So you’ll stare at me all day but as soon as I’m next to ya, you can’t even look at me?” He chuckled to himself, stretching out against the bench. His thigh just barely brushing against yours.

“You started it.” 

“Oh did I?” His tone is sarcastic, slightly taunting. 

“When I first came here,” You finally looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes soften and a small smile spreads on his face. 

“I remember, but I think you were staring back at me,” He looks down at the small space between you, seeing how close you are to him makes him sit up straight. He adjusts his jacket and stands up from the bench, “Listen Kid, I'm flattered by your little crush but I’m too old for you.” He pauses for a moment, looking over you before looking back towards the mansion.

“I’m old enough,” You stand from the bench, stepping closer to him.

“That's what all you girls say,” He mumbles half to himself.

“Can I try to get to know you?” You look up at him, his jaws clenched and his brows knit together.

He looks down at the gravel path below you, “You don’t want to know me.”

“Please?” Your voice is soft and gentle. The cold night air nips at your skin, and his silence feels long and deafening. 

“Fine.” He sounds defeated, but not angry.

From that point on instead of simply staring at Logan, you would talk to him too. Sharing a few words here and there in the hallway. Stopping by the kitchen before bed to share a story. Talking after classes about assignments, training schedules, anything and everything you could possibly talk about, you would try to bring it up with him. You had thought you had built up a good rapport, that perhaps, god forbid, you were becoming friends. Or you had hoped that, up until you began to find Logan harder and harder to come by. He wasn’t in any of his usual places around the mansion, and you hadn’t seen him teach a class in weeks. You wondered if he had been shipped off somewhere, or if he was really that keen on avoiding you. No one else seemed to notice or say anything. It’s as if slowly, but almost definitely, The Wolverine had disappeared. 

After a particularly sleepless night, you found yourself wandering out into the gardens. The sun barely peeked out from the horizon, the sky still half dark and stars filled. As you walked towards the center, you finally saw him. Standing there next to the fountain, back turned to you. In sweatpants and a tank top that seemed too small for him by the way it clung to each ridge of muscle in his back. You thought about saying something, about his sudden disappearance from your day to day life, but before you could even form the words he turned and spotted you immediately. He sits and taps the edge of the fountain, beckoning you forward, “How ya doing, Kid?”

“Can’t you call me something else?” You sit next to him, leaving a noticeable gap between him and yourself.

“Sorry, princess.” Heat rises to your cheeks. He smirks, pleased with himself. 

“Where have you been?” You look at his hand as it clings the edge of the stone, his fingers curled around it, the muscles in his arm tensing as he tightens his grip.

He tries hard to think of a good reason while ignoring your gaze, but there isn’t one. “I was-”

“Avoiding me?” You finish the thought for him, having already figured that was the case when he first disappeared. 

“Yeah,” He sighs.

“Why? I thought we were getting somewhere.” Your gaze lingers on his face, watching for any hint of remorse. “God forbid we be friends.”

“You’re too nice. I wouldn’t want to ruin that.” He can’t find it in himself to look at you, turning himself away, looking anywhere else.

“In case you haven’t realized, everyone in this fucking place comes pre-ruined. That's sort of the downside of mutants. We’re all fucked over by something in someway before we ever even step foot in here.” You stand from the fountain, ready to be done with this and find something else to occupy yourself with.

“It’s different,” He stands as well, not ready for you to leave.

“It’s not.” As you start to walk away, he snatches your wrist and pulls you in against him, his chest warm and hot, you can barely process what is happening before he leans down and kisses you. Gently at first, before the want bubbled over inside of him and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” He says breathlessly, forehead pressed to yours. You kiss him back in response, knowing it was never really your intention to be friends either. Knowing that from the first moment you saw him, you would never be able to maintain good boundaries, or keep naughty thoughts from appearing in your mind.

His hand lets go of your wrist and drops to your waist, pulling you as tight against him as possible, wrapping his arms around you. You feel dizzy,  your mind hazy from the sudden but welcome relief. He kisses you with fervor, as if to make up for his earlier stupidity. You can’t help but moan into him as he slips his tongue into your mouth. The hot and wet sensation of his tongue sliding against yours. 

As he parts from you, you remember how exposed the two of you are, out in the middle of the courtyard, far too close to the mansion. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking. In one swift movement he picks you up, carrying you off and placing you down on the soft clover lawn hidden amongst hedges. 

“Logan-” you whine as he’s standing over you, looking down on you. 

He grins, “You look so pretty all splayed out.”

You hide your face with your hands, embarrassed by the position you’ve been put in. Suddenly shy about the situation. 

“No need to hide,” He’s hovering above you, holding himself up on his knees and elbows. He lowers your hands. His expression is soft, a gentle smile as he leans in to kiss you more. His hands are holding yours at your sides. His kisses pick up pace and ferocity, making you whimper and melt beneath him. 

One of his hands lets go of yours and traces along the edge of your thigh, drawing little lines and circles. He brings his hand up to the waistband of your pants, breaking away from you to seek reassurance from you.

“Please,” you whine, pressing your hips up against him. He groans and slips his hand underneath your pants, quickly finding your clit, rubbing in small circles as he returns to kissing you. You feel entirely encompassed by him, lost in his scent, his taste, the groaning sounds he makes as you lift your hands to tangle them in his hair. 

He slides his fingers along your panties, the fabric becoming slick and sticky from your growing wetness. You whimper softly, pressing your hips up against his hands, rutting against him, seeking out as much contact as possible, wanting nothing more than his fingers to sink inside of you.

He kisses and nips along your neck as his fingers push aside your underwear and he rolls your clit between his fingertips, the sensation causing you to jolt against him. You can feel his smile against your skin as he rubs one finger along your entrance, teasing you only for a moment before he slowly slips it inside. His hands are large and rough and yet he is being so very gentle with you, it’s maddening. The way he rocks his finger in and out, making you crave more, wishing he would just ruin you.

“More, please… Logan,” You beg, gripping onto his arms, dragging your nails across his shoulders and biceps. He practically moans at this. He can’t deny you, adding another finger, and curling them in unison to press that sweet spot inside. He pushes and pulls them in and out of you with near expert precision, drawing you closer and closer to your limit. 

“So fucking pretty, you’re such a good girl.” He whispers in your ear, and you clench around his fingers, feeling so close, but still wanting more. He rocks his hand against you so that your clit presses against his palm. The friction is sweet and drives you just that much closer. He whispers saccharine and filthy things into the skin of your neck as he continues pumping his fingers in and out. You feel so very close. When he finally brings you over the edge he captures your moans in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You can hardly kiss back as you lose yourself in him.

As you come down from your high you manage to breathe out, “Fuck…”

He chuckles softly, and helps you sit up. You reach out for the waistband of his pants, wanting to do for him as he did for you, but he catches your hand.

“Next time, Sweetheart, I promise.”

[lucy90712]

Buff- Gavi

For the last few months Pablo has been working really hard in the gym pretty much since the day he was allowed to do more he has been working on his strength. We have a gym set up at home and every morning Pablo gets up and works out before he has to go and do his specific training at the training centre. Some mornings I'll join him but I never work out properly as I just end up staring at him as his muscles flex while he lifts weights. For the last few weeks I haven't been working out with Pablo as I've been back at uni so I have classes in the morning and on the weekends I have essays to write. I know he likes when we workout together but I've just been too busy in the mornings but I promised him this weekend that I'd join him on a run. 

Today however is Friday and luckily it's my day with the least amount of classes I have two but I'm done by 2 which is better than 5 or 6pm. I have a break between my classes so I used that time to get some assignments done so I have a free weekend. Once I'd finished my work I decided to give myself a break and just scroll through social media but I nearly dropped my phone when I opened Instagram. The first thing on my feed was a video of Pablo from training and my god did he look good his arms were huge and he wasn't even flexing he was just walking. I know he's been working hard but I haven't noticed just how much it's been paying off until right now. Of course I loved the way he looked before but my god does he look amazing now I feel like if anyone saw me right now I'd have literal heart eyes after seeing that video. 

Trying to focus in my next class was near impossible all I could think about was Pablo and getting home to him so I could see his arms in person. Usually this is my favourite class and I spend the whole time writing notes but today when I left all I had written was the date and the topic of the lecture so I'll have to look back at what was actually said another day right now though I just want to get home. I never drive to uni as it's just a nightmare to park but the bus has never felt slower than it does right now and I wish I'd driven here. 

When I finally made it to the house after a long bus journey and a walk I saw that his car was already back in the driveway which is exactly a what I wanted to see. As soon as I opened the door I heard Pablo get up and make his way towards the door, to my delight he had a sleeveless shirt on so I could see his arms for myself. He came towards me looking for attention but my hands went straight to his arms to feel them. They even felt different I could feel the muscles tensing under my touch which was honestly fascinating as before Pablo wasn't the most muscular guy he was strong but never to this extent. 

"What are you doing?" He asked 

"Just enjoying your muscles I saw you in training today and your arms looked so good" I said 

"Thank you" he said getting a little shy 

"Seriously when did you get this muscular you look so hot I couldn't focus in class as I was thinking about how good my boyfriend looks" I said 

"I'm glad you like them" Pablo said getting even more shy as he doesn't know how to react to compliments 

He let me enjoy his arms for a bit longer before he took hold of my hands and pulled me into a hug. The next thing I knew he'd picked me up and carried me to the sofa so we could cuddle because as much as he doesn't know how to respond to compliments he is definitely very affectionate. We talked about our days he told me about training and how much he's enjoying finally being back with the other guys and I told him about my classes all while he played with my hair and I watched his arms while I was talking. 

We chilled for a while before Pablo suggested we go for a swim in the pool as it's really hot outside and because I was sweating just sitting down I agreed. He got ready much quicker than I did as I had to tie my swimsuit on and put my hair up so it doesn't get too wet as I just washed it. When I made it back downstairs Pablo was leaning on the edge of the pool waiting for me the way he was leaning really made his biceps pop. This man is definitely going to be the death of me he just looks so good and the way he was looking at me nearly made me melt. I joined him by sitting on the edge of the pool with my feet in the water, Pablo then moved to lean his arms on my legs while he just smiled up at me. His smile started out sweet but then he had that mischievous grin on his face which is never a good thing it only ever means he has a plan that he knows I'm going to disapprove of. 

His little plan quickly became clear when his arms went around my waist and pulled me into the pool. He was nice enough to not let me get my hair wet but I still got water in my eyes because I wasn't ready to go underwater. When I recovered and could see again Pablo had hold of me to keep me out the water so I wrapped my legs around him so he couldn't dunk me in the water again at least not without going underwater himself. This didn't last long though as Pablo started to tickle me which made me let go of my grip on him which allowed him to pick me up and throw me in the water over and over. I would've shouted at him for doing that but I actually had a lot of fun and every time I was out of the water I could hear him laughing which made getting my hair wet a lot better. Eventually he stopped and held me to his chest so I could get my breath back. 

"Are you just trying to show off how strong you are now" I joked 

"Well you liked my arms so much I thought I'd show you what I can do now" he said 

"In that case I'm very impressed maybe I'll have to join you in the gym just to watch you get even stronger" I said 

"You do that anyway" he fired back 

"Hey I work out too" I said 

"Be honest you do the bare minimum to look busy thinking I don't see you staring" he said 

"Ok you're right but can you blame me the view is always great" I said 

"My view is pretty great too when you do squats" he teased 

"You stare at me when I do squats?" I asked 

"Of course how can I not I also stare at your pretty face when you stretch on the floor I just like to take in what's mine" he said 

"Aren't you the cutest I like to look at your pretty face too" I said 

That's when he got all shy again so to deflect the attention off of him he pushed me against the side of the pool and kissed me. If complimenting him is going to get me cuddles and kisses like this I might just have to do it more often.  

[lunarw0rks]

something cute & wholesome for our chaotic bby soap <33 him and the reader being in a relationship whenever she has a mischievous idea, he supports it without thinking twice. mm and maybe one day she’s playing with this archery set and he’s helping her with her aim, she accidentally shoots an arrow wrong and it goes flying through the window of price’s office 🤣 price slams his door open and he just stands there with the arrow in his hat

☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ run for your life

warning(s): fem!reader, a lil suggestive joke, just a crack fic, no use of y/n ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box

the most startling quality price possessed? how he never yelled.

at recruits, at his men, at anyone. not unless he was barking orders, and most fearsome — even when he was infuriated. his stare was enough to back the strongest of men into a corner.

the scot in front of you was focused for once - a truly rare sight.

❝johnny,❞ a smirk spread on your face; yet another dubious plan flooding your brain. paperwork was boring, and your daily chores were finished. ❝wanna do something?❞

the folder in his hand landed on the desk before he had jumped to his feet as if he had been yearning for a more stimulating activity. ❝aye, how could i say no? what is it this time? throwing little paper balls at simon?❞ he questioned, following you down the corridor to the mischievous location of your plan.

❝not this time. it's something i've wanted to play with for a couple days, just haven't had time.❞ you lead him to the common area, where you got an archery set.

soap's mouth contorted into a dirty-minded smirk, a cocked brow. ❝i knew this day would come, i'm irresistible.❞

that comment only earned an elbow to the ribs and an unimpressed glare, not you confessing your undying love for the former class clown. you scoffed and motioned to the bow, a widened gaze until he had the same amount of excitement as you.

now, instead of a lustful smirk, it was a deviant one. ❝you're saying you want to play with that here?❞ he questioned with some faux seriousness before the act ceased

❝i'm in.❞

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

after what seemed like minutes of bickering, you finally got the bow into the 'correct' position, though the form was questionable when you were too busy cackling.

❝alrigh' now... imagine the face of someone you hate. and it can't be me.❞ soap rasped into your ear, an uncomfortably close hold on you, purely to mess up your precision.

you tightened your lips into a line, shaking your head at his childishness. it was only because he didn't get to go first. ❝johnny if you make me miss, it will be your face in my crosshairs.❞

you pulled back the string with force, aiming for the line of plastic cups you had set up. it was a simple shot, but knowing the man you chose as your practice buddy — it would be anything but a simple task.

just as you released the string, soap poked your side, causing an instinctual flinch on your end. instead of a straight shot into the styrofoam cups, the arrow curved and went through the window overlooking price's office. the small shatter was enough to make you wince and drop the bow, and then him. it was the most terrifying sight of your life.

price, a small arrow that went through the fabric of his boonie hat. and that damned fatherly scowl.

johhny's eyes darted from you, to him, then back to you. unfortunately, this hadn't been a first for either of you. it had become a routine at this point. ❝i'll go left, you take right.❞

you nodded, bracing yourself to sprint the opposite of the direction soap claimed. ❝run.❞

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part four

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): cussing, mentions of violence, kind of fluff, lil bit of angst but not much.

author's note: so so sorry for this taking a few days to upload! i've been out of town all weekend and was getting ready for the eras tour concert i went to! i tried to write while i was at the hotel but it just wasn't happening (alcohol might've taken a part in that but anyways), regardless we're back and i'm excited to write for u guys again :)

It was Friday night and your heart was racing. Although you weren't entirely sure why you felt so queasy, you boiled it down to the fact that you were going to be spending the night surrounded by a bunch of Kooks. You realized ahead of time that you were going to feel completely out of place amongst the upper class clique, a group of people totally different than you. Truth was, you were a Pogue through and through. You resided on the south side of the island, also known as The Cut. A majority of the time you were with your friends at the chateau, hanging on the hammock with JJ, taking bikes to see the ocean, and maybe even at the boneyard, but in no ways was any aspect of your life as opulent as a Kooks', or even close to it.

Your first impression even matched your identity, a dead giveaway that you were undeniably a Pogue. In any other circumstance you would have embraced what position you were born into, but if you wanted to win over Rafe Cameron's heart, and trust, you were going to have to put in some substantial amount of effort to get to that point. Therefore, when the opportunity to go on a 'date' with Rafe was finally proposed, you went straight to Sarah to lend you the most full Kook outfit she had in her closet.

Despite hating the identity you were trying to hide behind, you had to admit that Sarah's sense of fashion was impeccable. Lucky for you, she dressed you in a sage green square neck gingham mini dress, with a small slit up the thigh that you knew would be observed by Rafe's wondering eyes. You needed this to work at all costs, even if it meant that you were losing part of your dignity by dressing up like a braggart.

"Are you excited?" Sarah asked through the speaker of your phone, her question clearly rhetorical and rather needling.

"I just want to get this over with." You admitted with a whine.

"Well, JJ and Pope are going to be there so it won't be so bad." Your cheerful blond friend encouraged you with a hopeful smile, which had the right intention but seemed to fail at getting you through the circumstances at stake.

"Yeah, that makes it even worse." You grumbled, fumbling with the hooks on your sandals hurriedly.

"C'mon, I know it's Rafe we're talking about but he seems to have some sort of interest in you, so you should be fine." Sarah inspirited your optimism against the obvious signs of uneasiness you had been exhibiting for an hour over the phone.

You sighed, figuring that Sarah truly did have a point. Rafe seemed to have grown some kind of absorption with you since you had started working at the golf course, which essentially was a part of the plan, but you never expected him to grow so fond of you so quickly. Who knew all it took was a short skirt and batting your eyelashes to get Rafe Cameron to fawn over you. Go figure.

"Yeah well- Shit." You were interrupted abruptly by the sound of knocking at your front door. The noise alone was enough to make your stomach turn, as if it wasn't already before. Your body temperature rose once it had settled in your mind that it was more than likely Rafe at the front door, probably waiting impatiently in that damn polo he always wears. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to sneak out your bedroom window and run far away, but that wasn't an option and this date was crucial in order to convince Rafe you were something special.

"What? Is he there?" Sarah asked with confusion at the sound of urgency in your voice.

"Yeah he's at the front door, I think. I gotta go, text you later." You waved off your friend in a hurry before ending the call. You began to scurry around your room in search for your most sweetly-scented perfume, hoping to advance your level of allurement with an aroma that would likely inveigle the nescient boy. You planned on getting him right in the palms of your hands, so you decided on a fragrance of vanilla with hints of gourmand notes.

You felt satisfied with your appearance once you got a glimpse of yourself in your bedroom mirror before you exited the room, thinking to yourself that Rafe was definitely going to have his eyes on you all night, and the thought alone had a fire lighting up in your stomach.

You opened the front door and was immediately met with the sight of the dirty blond Kook, a visual you were slowly starting to become oddly familiar with. Your first reaction was to take in the view as you surveyed his clean-cut appearance, but as your eyes trailed his tall stature, you realized he had been doing just the same back to you. The only difference was that his stare was much more intense with a hint of longing beneath it, and it made you feel small under his gaze as he inspected every inch of your body - especially the exposed portions of it.

"You look beautiful." Rafe acknowledged your graceful presence, silently admiring the way your dress adorned your figure remarkably.

You smiled in return, "You don't look bad yourself, Cameron."

Your comment earned a small smile from the boy, noticing that his cheeks began to blush at the same time.

"Just for you, princess." He teased in response, a remark that sent heat coursing through your entire body. Rafe was notably always making suggestive comments and phrases towards you at any chance he could get, but for some reason, the way his nickname for you rolled off his tongue made you feel like you could melt right then and there.

You followed closely behind him on the way to his car that had been parked in your driveway after quickly saying your goodbye's to your parents, only to be put into a state of shock when you had realized Rafe had opened the passenger door for you to get in. Your heart seemed to flutter once again at his gesture, an act of chivalry that you had never experienced before.

"Thank you." You expressed your gratitude for his actions with a feeble voice as you hopped into the sumptuous-looking car.

"No need to thank me, angel." Rafe expressed much to the liking of the butterflies floating in your stomach.

You watched as the broad blond entered the driver's side door and started the car engine, finding yourself fixated on the prominent veins in his arms and hands as he did so. You had thought to yourself that in that moment, despite all the chaos that surrounded Rafe Cameron, maybe he wasn't as awful to be around as you initially anticipated. Sure he was a bit tempermental at times, but never towards you. Matter of fact, you were quite sure that Rafe wouldn't raise a hand at you, one being because he was gentle with you in every interaction you two had, and two because he wouldn't dare take away his time to fawn over you. He didn't want to be the one to rip that smile off your face that captivated him so much.

You enjoyed the scenic view of the coastal town and all of its serenity, watching out the window as you peered up at the clear night sky above you as the moon lit up all that surrounded you. Perhaps you became a little too entranced in the view, a state of ambedo, since all of the sudden you were brought back into reality by the feeling of a warm hand gently placing itself on the top of your exposed thigh. Your eyes shot down to where the warmth was coming from, your eyes then trailing up from the hand on your leg all the way to Rafe's side profile. It seemed as though Rafe could sense your stare as he instinctively glanced over at you for a brief second, catching your gaze.

"Is this okay?" Rafe asked tenderly, motioning to his hand placement. The innocent gesture creating a moment of kairosclerosis for you, and even a little appreciation towards him. You swore to yourself that if you had told the other Pogues what had just happened within the previous ten minutes, none of them would have believed you. But it was all real, and you were there, experiencing the extent of Rafe's affinity that no one could imagine he had.

"Yeah it's okay." You flashed a small, yet accepting smile at him. Rafe seemed to take note of your assurance as you noticed the tension in his body language relaxed, his fingers sliding further into your inner thigh yet remaining in a place that wasn't too high up for you. It was clear Rafe had an awareness of your boundaries and didn't want to cross them, which you were thankful for.

"So, how does a girl like you end up with people like John B and JJ Maybank? I mean, I know you're a 'Pogue' and all, but those guys are total losers." Rafe inquired, causing you to frown subtly.

"They're still my friends," you defended, "and they've been there for me more than my actual family has." You admitted, your voice falling more quietly as you confessed.

"What do you mean by that?" Rafe questioned as he looked over at you with furrowed brows, contemplating the severity of the situation you were talking about.

"My parents don't care what I'm doing or where I'm at. I basically live at John B's house and the hardly notice when I'm gone," you scoffed to yourself quietly, "I'm in no better position than JJ or John B. Half the time it's like they're the only family I have."

Rafe frowned as you spoke, becoming evident that he was taking in your every word by the way his jaw clenched as you told him about your family situation. You had also noticed that his thumb began to rub against your skin in a soothing manner that sent cold chills throughout your body.

"I'm sorry. I know what it's like to have a kind of fucked up home life." Rafe joked dryly as he eyes stayed glued to the road ahead, his expression turning somber.

"How?" You asked, confused as to how someone as wealthy and affluent as Rafe Cameron could even began to understand the detriments of living in a bad home.

"My dad is a control freak who plays favorites. He always chooses Sarah, everything is always Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. She could run him dry and he'd still treat her like a fucking angel. Me, however, he could care less about unless he wants something done." Rafe groused while his grip on the steering wheel became tighter. You realized the subject of his father struck a nerve somewhere in Rafe, which was a cause for concern. If Ward had been that careless with his son, what was he willing to make him do for him?

You wanted to calm down the ill-tempered boy before you were going to arrive at your destination, mostly because you knew that if he showed up in such a state and spotted one of your friends, you would be screwed.

"Well it's any consolation, at least you have me to understand having a fucked up family." You quipped in the effort to try and make the atmosphere in the car light-hearted again. It seemed to have worked out though, because Rafe started to laugh back at you.

"That's right, at least I'm not a Pogue either." Rafe jested in return.

Your jaw dropped flippantly, pretending as if you were offended by his comment. "Oh, fuck off." You shoved his shoulder lightly.

"Just sayin'." He shrugged, still unapologetically chuckling at his own joke. What an ass. You thought.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The two of you had finally arrived to the park in which the movie was set to play at. You realized upon arrival that practically everyone on the island was there, causing your heart to sink. If there was anything you hated, it was large crowds of people. Your breathing began to fasten as you observed the large quantities of individuals entering the place and taking their seats on the grass in front of the large projector screen. You fiddled with your hands and began picking at your fingernails in order to distract yourself from the anxiety that was brewing within you.

"You okay?" The sound of Rafe's baritoned voice breaking you out of your disassociation.

"Yeah," you replied mousily, "just hate big crowds."

"Well, you'll be with me and if anyone says anything to you I'll handle it myself." Rafe affirmed, lending you a hand to hold as you stepped out of the vehicle.

"Is your first instinct always violence?" You asked.

"Only if someone is messing with you." He smirked, taking your hand gently as he guided you over to the area in which his group of friends were sat.

You watched from behind Rafe as he greeted each one of his fellow Kook friends with handshakes and by dapping them up. The longer you stood and waited for him to introduce you to the rest of them, you could feel the awkwardness killing you internally. The thought of having to meet new people made you went to throw up already, let alone a group of stuck up Kooks who were seemingly intoxicated.

"This is y/n," Rafe finally turned around to acknowledge you, throwing his arms over your shoulders as he held you by his side proudly, "she's one of Sarah's friends."

"Didn't know you were banging your sister's friends now." One of the boys retorted, causing the entire group to snicker in return.

"Yeah yeah, fuck off, Ryan. You were fucking Kelce's sister for like a month." Rafe riposted at the snarky brunette Kook who quickly became quiet and practically mute following the comment.

"You did what?" Kelce asked furiously, glaring over at the other Kook who had his head hung low in order to avoid eye contact, and likely a bigger confrontation.

"Anyways, she's hanging with us tonight so don't be a bunch of dicks." Rafe asserted amongst the group, causing their full attention to advert to him. You were left in shock as you noticed they all obeyed to his demand without further question. You took it as a sign that Rafe was likely the ring-leader type of friend amongst his group of company. You had to admit though, the sight of all those Kooks taking orders from Rafe was humorous.

Eventually, you were able to take a seat next to Rafe on the set of lawn chairs that were scattered across the park. Quite honestly, you weren't paying attention to the movie that had just begun what-so-ever, too caught up in the way you were surrounded by a group of men that you barely knew at all. You tried your best to remain calm and collected in the given situation, trying to keep your attention on the screen in front of you, but your brain simply wouldn't retain any of what was happening on it. Rafe wasn't much help either, as he was too engaged in a conversation with Topper and Kelce to notice your boredom.

Until you heard the sound of someone behind you trying to gain your attention.

"Psst, y/n! Psst, over here!" You heard a familiar voice call out to you in an obnoxiously loud whisper. You quickly turned your head around as your eyes wandered the premise, seeing no sign of where the noise was coming from.

"Y/n, over here!" The voice half- whispeed, half-shouted again. This time guiding you to where exactly the sound was and who it was coming from. JJ.

"What the hell, JJ?" You mouthed in bewilderment, motioning your head over to Rafe who was merely 5 inches apart from you.

"Check your phone!" JJ mouthed back as he pointed down to the phone in his hands. You did as told and seen you had unread messages from your blond friend in your notifications.

*JAY-J &lt;3: had to make sure you were safe from all those damn kooks*

You rolled your eyes at JJ's message, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you looked down at your phone. You had completely forgot who was sitting right next to you until you were caught off-guard by the sound of Rafe's voice interrupting you.

"Everything okay?" Rafe whispered to you as he looked at you with concern, mistaking the noise you made as a sigh instead of a laugh.

"Oh yeah, just breathing." You lied in an attempt to brush Rafe off, but you failed miserably at getting his attention off of you.

"Do you want something to drink? I can go get you anything if you want." He offered, which set off a light bulb in your head and a perfect escape plan to come into mind.

"Actually, I'll go get it," you smiled," I need to stretch my legs anyways, been sitting all day."

"Okay, I'll save your seat for when you get back." Rafe smiled as he watched you stand up from your seat. Part of you felt guilty for lying to the boy, but you needed to see your friend desperately and if you were surrounded by Kooks for any longer, you might have lost your mind.

*Y/N: meet me at the concession stand. i bought some time to get away from rafe for like 10 mins* You texted JJ in a hurry while you hastened over to the concession line. You stood off to the side of the building with your arms cross, standing up on your tip-toes occassionally to try and spot your friends among the sizeable crowd full on Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons.

You were taken by surprise once you felt a pair of hands grab you by the waist from behind, spinning you around to come face-to-face with sight of a blond boy who was a relief to see in that moment.

"JJ!" You squealed once you realized it was none other than your best friend with Pope accompanied beside him. JJ smiled in reaction to your excitement, taking you in once again and spinning you around in the air swiftly. You felt giddy as you felt JJ's hands hold your hips steadily, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck once he had placed you back on the ground.

"Alright guys, enough with the rom-com fest here. Rafe could find us at any moment." Pope interrupted your and JJ's moment of jubilation with his typical panic. You rolled your eyes at his pessimism, although he did have a point. If Rafe were to have spotted your Pogue friends, he might just kill them both.

"Good point." You agreed, taking a step back from JJ's embrace and looking at the two boys standing in front of you as they awaited your response, "I just needed to get away from all those Kooks for a minute. If I had to listen to them talk about Midsummers any longer I was going to drive my head through a wall." You griped.

"Wait, Midsummers?" Pope repeated back at you as though the topic sparked an idea in his mind.

"Yeah, that thing where a bunch of Kooks get together and play dress up." You stated, still in a state of confusion as to what was brewing in Pope's brain, considering he's always coming up with something.

"You should go with Rafe."

"What?" You and JJ both shouted in unison at Pope's absurd request.

"I mean, you wanna gain Rafe's trust right? It would be the perfect opportunity to do so. Meet his family, live like a Kook with him for a night. Plus, you won't even be alone. JJ and I are gonna be working there that night, and Kie and Sarah are still considered as Kooks so you know they're going, too. I don't think it's a bad idea." Pope explained.

"Pope, there's no way in hell she's going to-"

"I'll do it." You cut off JJ just before he could reject Pope's suggestion, causing both of the boys to look at you in disbelief.

"Y/n, what? Do you realize what you'd be getting yourself into?" JJ apprised much against his friend's idea. You knew it was just JJ being his normal stubborn self, but you didn't have time to pay any mind to it. You knew that Pope's idea was the best bet in order for you to work your way into Rafe's life with ease, and so you knew what you'd have to do.

"JJ, I know you're worried and all, but this is our only chance at getting one step closer into whatever fucked up plan Rafe and his dad are conspiring against us. It's either I do this, or we're done for." You pleaded up at the distressed blond who looked down at you with an earnest look in his eyes.

"JJ, she'll be fine. We're all going to be there so you know she won't be alone." Pope added.

JJ sighed in defeat, the realization that you weren't going to back down washing over him. He grazed his hands through his shaggy blond hair as he placed a hand on his hip, "If any of this goes wrong, I'll kill him." He warned.

"Everything is going to be fine, Jay." You reassured, stepping forward to place a quick kiss onto the apple of his cheek. His body seemed to relax some at the gesture, his hands falling to your hips again as he peered down at you.

"I'm serious, y/n. I've already got enough reason to punch that asshole right in his face, let alone if he does something to you."

"He won't. You need to trust me on that, yeah? I can assure you it'll all be fine." You convinced once again, looking over at Pope in hopes he would help the situation, but instead he looked back at the two of you with judgement.

"You guys are strange." Pope added, scoffing at your guys' obvious shared displays of affection. It wasn't abnormal for you and JJ to be so hands-on, especially in a time where JJ was in a state of worry. None of the other Pogues seemed to understand the relationship you and JJ had going on, but they chose not to question to because more than likely, you two barely even knew what was going on.

"Well, who do we have here?"

taglist (if i missed any of u i apologize, pls let me know if u need or want to be added!!): @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm (if i forgot to add you, please let me know!)

[strawburry01]

We're Going to Be Friends

Summary: How Y/N and Aaron first start talking during their time in college (Aaron shouldn't be let into a lab)(also yeah, listen to the song when you read if you want)

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: I don't think anyone really noticed but I'm sorry this took a second longer than normal to get out. I just had a really weirdly abrupt and messy break up (?) and when I usually write I've just been sleeping but we are doing better now that that's been resolved but like- guys what the fuck? Anyway, this was nice to write to kinda get out of my head. Cheers xoxo

It was your first day in the forensics chemistry lab after waiting two years to even be let into the lab space. You held your bound lab notebook to your chest as you walked in alongside the rest of the class and took your places at the lab benches, silently picking your lab partners. You were with a wiry girl with big blonde curly hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Hey at least she looked smart- it meant you wouldn’t have to carry the two of you to an A grade. As the class waited for the professor to come in you couldn’t help but overhear the laughter from across the classroom. Your head looked up to the source of the noise only to see the grinning Aaron Hotchner looking at his lab partner. Aaron and you had been in many of the same classes but had never really interacted beyond the polite head nod when bumping into each other. Sure there was nothing wrong with him, in fact, there was a lot that was right with him. He was handsome, in a bit of a nerdy Clark Kent sort of way, always looking like he rolled out of bed effortlessly and threw him glasses on before running to class. He was also fairly nice when it came to the general population. The Criminal Justice pathway in uni was highly competitive so it often meant everyone was insanely cutthroat, but he was always offering hints and help to others you’d notice. He was smart, very smart, but was very humble about it, in a way that only someone watching him could really realize how much he knew, and unfortunately, you did. Not even purposefully, but your eyes always had a way of falling onto the back of his head in class. Perhaps it was because he was the most attractive man in the cohort, or perhaps it was because you were just so intrigued at his charm. 

The lab started and you were drawn from your thoughts as you tied your hair back and slipped on the snug safety goggles, glad that they even made everyone, even him, look a little bit dorkier. You and your lab partner (who you found out went by Jen), started setting up the titration and you pulled out your lab notebook to start writing the results down. The two of you small-talked about classes and movies as she slowly let the base solution drip into the acid, waiting for it to eventually turn pink. After running through a round you two switched positions and you leaned over as you tried to line up the new beaker under the buret. 

Swiftly there was a new figure besides you. At first you assumed it was the professor, about to harass you about some incorrect technique or form, but you were surprised to see it was Aaron. He grinned as he looked down at you, and you suddenly felt very self conscious about leaning over so far in front of the buret. You quickly snapped up, standing straight, focusing on the buret with a reddening face.

“You’re Y/N right?” he asked. How he knew your name was beyond you, you’d never really talked to him before beyond a few yes or no’s. 

“Yeah,” you answered, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, still intently focusing on the meniscus in the buret.

“Do you know where the sodium hydroxide is? I need some more,” he asked. 

“Um, it’s just over there, you should just have to pipette it into your beaker,” you said, pointing to the dark brown container kept under the chemistry hood. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he slowly nodded looking over.

“I see, thank you!” he said in a chipper demeanor as he walked over. 

“What the hell was that about?” Jen asked, jumping onto anything other than the mundane topics. Your face reddened again as you didn’t even know what the hell that was about. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning to face her, but before she could elaborate Aaron was back.

“Hey Y/N have you used one of those automatic pipettes before?” he asked sheepishly, holding a still empty beaker. You finally turned to face him and looked up. God he really was tall, or were you just short…nevermind that all.

“Have you not?” you asked, a bit shocked he’d gotten this far without having been subjected to one in high school or the general labs. He grinned again shrugged,

“Think you can help a poor guy out?”. You felt your stomach do a bit of a flip as you mumbled some sort of an agreement under your breath. He handed you the beaker once you were at the sodium hydroxide and you tried to explain the process and how to use the pipette. He made sure to make a dramatic show of nodding before you handed him back his beaker. You handed him back the beaker and stared at him a second before rolling your eyes,

“You know how to do this you little-” you started going off at him before he grinned mischievously,

“You do it so good though!” he exclaimed and nudged your arm which did shut you up, “You always just seem like you know what you’re doing,” he added. 

“I don’t know about- ah- thanks,” you mumbled as you looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Has he really been paying attention to you this whole time? He thought you were smart? He thought you knew what you were doing? Was he complimenting you? He laughed and walked back to his lab bench as you went back to yours and apologized to Jen.

“You still don’t know what that’s all about?” she laughed under her breath as she pointed her pencil at you. Going back to the buret you shook your head.

“Honest to god I didn’t even think he knew my name,” you said, with a small smile, “he just wanted me to do his damn work for him though,”. 

Another hour later once the lab was about halfway done your feet started hurting from standing for so long. You regretted not wearing better ones, but how were you supposed to know… As you were stretching your back and trying to get comfortable you made eye contact with Aaron from across the lab. The goofball had a thing of sodium hydroxide right next to him on his side of the lab this whole time. He never needed to come to your side. Instead of looking away he smiled and waved. You snorted to yourself and bit your bottom lip as you quickly waved back before looking back to your experiment. 

After the tortuous three hour lab was finally done you let down your hair and threw your lab goggles into your backpack, catching yourself in a mirror on the way out and realizing just how bad the marks left behind on your face were. 

“Raccoon eyes!” Jen laughed as she appeared by you in the mirror, finding herself in a similar situation.

“How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously on campus like this?” you laughed as you tried to see if pulling on your skin helped at all, but much to your chagrin it did nothing.

“I mean they’ll just be jealous we get to do labs instead of just lecture all day,” Jen hummed as she waved goodbye. You smiled and waved back as you threw your backpack over your shoulder and moved to follow.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled from behind you, getting you to look over your shoulder, “Look we’re twins,” he laughed as he pointed to his face, also having deep marks from the goggles around his glasses on his forehead and cheeks. You couldn’t help but laugh not only at his comment but also how absurd it was that he was now treating you like a close friend.

“I think we all learned our lesson today with the goggles,” you said as you started walking out, with him falling into step beside you. 

“You heard the professor: goggles on, risk gone,” he recited, doing an excellent impression of your professor which garnered another laugh from you. “Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, but um, do you want to study together? You’ve always been getting the top grades in our classes and you don’t seem like a total nerd…” he said, trailing off as he tried to think of a way to finish the sentence.

“A total nerd?” you asked, faking shock at his accusation.

“See- you can take a joke,” he defended himself and holding his hands up, holding the door open for you with his hip, “I’m trying to get into the FBI, y’know, and I know I heard you are too, so I was thinking of proposing a sort of pact?” he continued to explain, glancing down to see your reaction. You met his eyes before quickly darting back down. It’s true, you did want to be a part of the FBI, as stupid a dream it sounded some days. At the beginning of the year one of your classes had you all go around and discuss what you wanted to do in the long-run, mostly just so then the professor could guilt you into remembering you saying that when students were struggling. 

“I’ll bite,” you say simply with a nod, “you’re really stand out in the psychology classes,” you added.

“And you’re a genius at the science stuff!” he said, turning to walk backwards in front of you, keeping his pace right ahead of yours as he talked facing you, “you’re seeing the vision!”. You couldn’t help but laugh again as you looked at him getting giddy.

“Okay okay, don’t trip,” you said as you pulled his wrist so he was back in step with you, both of you smiling like idiots at this point, knowing that this would be the start of a special friendship.

A/N yeah I'll stand by Aaron being a total college himbo (/endearing) and I'll probably write whatever big event causes him to get serious near the end of his time in college and turn into the daddy hotch we know and love.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #14] New Rules

warnings: enter stage left: jungkook's hands. the birds are up to no good!! fingering; 1, 2, 3, scouts honour, woohoo! mirrors!! dirty talk! jaykay is so hard he might die, but no action for him! no kissing rule established! no pet names! no hand holding!!! fingers in minge?? perfectly fine! totally friendly!

soundtrack: nonsense - sabrina carpenter

wc: 7.9k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Hey," you greet Jeongguk with a coy smile by your apartment door. He smiles back. Tells you that you look like shit. Is definitely lying. 

The way he looks you up and down gives it away.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, still a little uneven in colour because you don't want to put it through even more torture. A slouchy white shirt hangs off your left shoulder, and a pair of dark leggings hug your legs. It's casual. Comfy. Still got glitter on your eyes, as always.

Jeongguk can't remember if you've had a discussion about yoga leggings, and how they've got a track record of giving him boners in record speed.

You haven't. You're just aware your ass looks fairly good in them. Not like it matters. Not like you need him to think your ass looks good. No, nothing like that at all.

You also haven't started a daily squat challenge. That would be immature. Flirting with danger. And even if you had, it would be incredibly stupid to leave the chart up on the kitchen fridge - which is where you beeline after you leave the door open for him. 

You don't bother inviting him in, mind you. He knows he's welcome. Not because he's been there a thousand times over, nor because it's where you usually spend time together, but because the apartment is yours . He's welcome in your space.

But he is incredibly early - and you tell him as such when you curl up on the couch, tucking the piece of paper you'd swiped from the fridge door beneath a stack of magazines. Jeongguk takes the spot next to you, despite the fact there are plenty of other places for him to sit instead. Part of you is tempted to kick him off.

The rest of you, though? So incredibly glad to have him close again.

"Danbi's class runs for another half an hour," you tell him as you scroll through the Netflix landing page.

It's a Monday, and neither of you have been at work today. The perks of your schedules aligning mean that Monday is always a safe bet, but you'd been in desperate need of alone time. The past few weeks have exhausted your social battery.

Jeongguk gets like that sometimes, too - but he also doesn't like spending too much time in his own head, and so when a text from you had pinged through earlier that afternoon asking if he wanted to hang out, he replied almost immediately.

It's been a week. Over a week, actually. It's the first time he's seen you since you left his apartment. There's been no real discussion of what happened. A few 'i've seen your tits lol ' texts here and there, but nothing that really qualifies as a grown-up conversation. You think you like it better this way; prefer the ominous unknown of the impact such a venture has had on your friendship. 

For the most part, it seems like it's had minimal impact. None of which you can recognise straight off the bat, at least. Maybe he's a little more comfortable now than he once was, but you can't really tell. Not entirely. 

Thing is, he always seemed comfortable before. There's never really been a need for boundaries. They came and went naturally. 

Perhaps that's your problem: you got far too relaxed far too quickly.

And yet you keep a little distance. Who cares if he's seen your tits? God forbid you sit too close to one another.

"Class?" He questions, not realising Danbi was still studying.

She isn't. It's just her hobby. Something she does to unwind after spending all day chasing after unruly dogs.

You nod, eyes still on the screen, looking for something mindless to put on. He's here for the second installment of your Deadpool marathon, so you don't want to put anything worthy of investment on. 

"Pole."

"Pole as in..." he says slowly, not sure of the correct term, so you help him out.

"As in pole dancing," you confirm. "She's been doing it for a while. Keeps trying to get me to join."

Jeongguk doesn't look at you as he smirks, his eyes now also focused on the Netflix loading screen. "You? Pole dancing?"

There's a jovial glint in his eye, as if he thinks it's the funniest thing he's heard all afternoon. If you were to say that, he'd tell you that you're wrong. It's the funniest thing he's heard all day.

"Hey!" You kick your leg out to tap him, but he stops it before you can reach him. Squeezes his hand ever so gently around your foot. Pushes it back towards you, and holds it down. "I could be good at pole!"

He looks over to you now. "Byeol, I've seen you after twenty minutes on a treadmill. You don't have the stamina."

The smile on his lips would make it seem like he's joking - but he has seen you on a treadmill after twenty minutes. He's absolutely telling what he deems to be the truth, and the offence you take only makes him smile even more.

"Don't-" you halt your words to utter a shriek of disbelief. "Don't have the stamina? Fuck you."

"Nah," he grins. "You wouldn't have the stamina to handle me."

The conversation remains steady; a flirt between friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's easy. Casual. 

And when Danbi gets home, it doesn't change. Oh so incredibly easy. Jeongguk fits into the life you've carved out for yourself, almost like there was a nook waiting just for him. 

Pizza is ordered. Deadpool is played. Ryan Reynolds' ass in lycra is praised. Everything is as it should be.

When it hits midnight, and Danbi is already tucked up in bed, Jeongguk makes his excuses. Gears up to leave. Mentions the fact he's got the gym in the morning. Can't be out too late.

The part of you that considers telling him to stay is quiet. Instead, you just nod and agree. 

"It's a miracle you're still able to have a decent sleeping pattern," you say as you walk him to the door. "I'd be exhausted all the time."

He doesn't tell you, but he is. Really could have done with an evening to himself. Uni is ramping up, and he's worried he's gonna fall behind on his coursework already.

It's why he's pretty much radio silent for the week that follows.

Until, all of a sudden, he's not.

Jeongguk: DB. 

You: That's no better than disco ball .

Jeongguk: It's better than BD.

You: ... Ball disco?

Jeongguk: Big Ditties.

You: Oh my god.

You: I'm blocking you .

Jeongguk: No you're not. Come hang out. 

Jeongguk: Coursework is driving me insane.

Jeongguk: Need a distraction.

You: Good. Hope it does <3

Jeongguk: :( comeee.

You: No :) x

You arrive a little after ten. 

Jeongguk is in sweats and a T-shirt, beyond the point of caring to dress up in your presence. Your dynamic is well-established by now; comfort found in the confines of your time spent together. He's got a buttered slice of toast in one hand, a dusting of crumbs detailing the tips of his fingers like the glitter on the inner corners of your eyes. He'd burnt it. You can tell by the scent that lingers in the air, and the knife marks near the crusts where he'd tried to scrape it off. 

He grins, in that stupid kind of lopsided way he always does whenever he gets his way. 

"Thought you said you weren't coming?"

Your lips are pursed, annoyance written along the line of your frown. The ink is water-soluble, though. One bite down on your bottom lip and it washes away. "I'm here to see the children."

He stands to the side. Opens the door just a little bit wider. "It's about time. They were about to report you to child protective services."

"Oh, yeah?" You encourage his teasing as you step over the threshold. 

"Uh-huh," he continues as he bites down on the toast. It crunches beneath his teeth, but doesn't stop him from talking. "Negligent mother, they said - shoes off -" he interrupts himself when you point to your feet. "Take them to my room though."

It's curious, the way he's still keeping you hidden. The only reason for them to not be in the hallway is to stop Jimin from asking questions when he arrives home. 

If you knew the grilling Jeongguk's been getting ever since that evening Jimin nearly walked in on the pair of you, you'd understand. It's far easier for Jeongguk if he gives his housemate as little ammunition to tease him with as he can. 

But Jimin's not home. He's in Busan for the weekend.

Jeongguk doesn't tell you this. He's not sure why. Part of him doesn't want to talk about Jimin with you. It's stupid, he'll admit, but he likes being your friend. Likes you being his friend. Doesn't like Jimin having one up on him.

He thinks it would be the same if he had a sister. That kind of protective nature.

But he's also seen you naked. Knows that he really can't kid himself into thinking it's entirely platonic. Is kind of confused by it all.

Just knows that he likes the way things are. Doesn't want them to change.

And so he doesn't mention Jimin.

When you enter his room, shoes tossed by his desk, you clamber up onto his bed and take a seat. There's no protest from him, no sign of it being an unwanted intrusion on his space. His sheets have been changed since your last visit, gold acrylic immediately washed away the morning after.

He takes a perch on his desk chair, swinging it around to face you. You're lit only by the lamp of his bedside table and the glow of the city coming in through his curtains. The warmth of the light makes your glitter look like crackling embers burning through the night skies. 

"So," you say, all very matter of a fact. There's a demure nature to your poise. It's not very 'you'. "You requested my company?" 

He nods.

"Why?"

He spins in his chair to his desk, and picks up a bird. Reads it aloud. "Invite a girl over."

You look at him for a moment, and purse your lips. He's an idiot .

"We both know that this isn't what that means."

"Why not?" He says as if he's genuinely without a clue. 

"Because!" 

You don't elaborate. Think there's no need. He knows exactly why not - but he's an insolent little fucker when he wants to be. 

"No, because what , Byeol?" He says with a grin. He knows you're right. Doesn't care.

"Because," you emphasise. "We both know that inviting a girl over is so much more than just a simple act of asking her to come round. There are layers to it. Innuendo. It's like asking if she wants ramyeon, Gguk. You know this."

There's a grin on his lips that he's trying to hide - and is failing miserably. 

"The bird says-"

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "It doesn't matter what the bird says. You know what it means."

"Yeah," he feigns innocence to his misdemeanour, eyes all wide and watery. So deep brown in colour it feels like a black hole is just sucking you in. Will never let you leave. God help the next girl who falls in love with him. "It means that I have to invite a girl to my place." He gestures towards you. Shakes his head. "You are a girl, no?"

"You've seen my tits, no?"

"You can't use tits as a qualifier," he tells you. "Not when you insist I also have tits."

"Touche - but still. It doesn't matter if I'm a girl. I'm not a girl girl."

"What does that even mean?" He scoffs, but he knows what you mean. Knows that the risk of rejection from you isn't the same as it is with a random girl. Knows that you're an exception. Not the rule.

"Like, a romantic interest," you say, well-aware he doesn't need it explaining. You just think you need to say it for your own sake. "I'm a friend. It doesn't say invite a friend round, does it?"

"Okay, but it doesn't not say that, does it?"

You're stern as you stare him down. "Jeongguk."

"Byeol," he replies with a grin so cheeky it's impossible to remain poised. 

You roll your eyes. Lie down. Wave your arm in the air. "C'mere."

He doesn't relent. Doesn't say no. Just stands. Walks to his bed, and flops down beside you. 

"Gimmie your phone," you say, but he refuses. "Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not. You're just not getting my phone."

You sit up. Rest on your elbow and look down at him. His eyes are closed. "Why not?"

"Because."

There's a smile tickling your lips. He's imitating you - but he also doesn't feel like explaining. Doesn't feel like trying to find a valid reason beyond 'I'm scared'.

"What happened to facing your fears, huh?" You poke his cheek. "You gonna be a coward? How is that gonna help you?"

"Byeol," he whines, tilting his head to avoid your continued poking. It's annoying, and deliberate. You want him frustrated. Want him proactive. Want him a little riled up. "Stop."

You don't. 

"Byeol."

"I'll stop when you stop being a baby," you tell him, poking at his other cheek. Your finger travels all over his face, poking and prodding, ignoring the way he bats you away.

"Stop."

"You stop."

"Byeol."

And still, you don't. At least not until his fingers clasp around your wrist, holding it far away from his face.

"I said stop," he says with a voice so low it's almost a growl. His eyes are still closed. He pulls your hand to his chest. Holds it there. Is vaguely aware of the fact he's drawn you closer. Had almost made you lose your balance entirely. 

It's not until you speak that he realises quite how close you actually are. Hears how quiet you are, too. 

"And I told you to stop being a baby."

He opens his eyes. Takes you in. You're resting on his chest, thanks to his grip on your wrist and where he's positioned it. Neither of you seem to remember the concept of breathing.

You're close . Closer than he intended. So close he could probably count every single speck of glitter on the inner corner of your eyes. So fucking close . He thinks of the last time you were this close. 

Also thinks of the fact he's now wearing sweats, and really shouldn't be thinking about you naked. Not again. 

But he is, though it's not your body he's thinking of; it's your eyes, and the glitter that had been caught in your lashes beneath the water of his shower. How you'd glistened. And then fuck it, he's thinking of the way you showed him your fingers, all dainty and pretty, covered in your own-

"Fuck," you hiss in surprise, breaking from his gaze. His eyes fall to his chest, where the culprit of the interruption lies. 

Another bird; resting pretty just below his ribs. It moves, up and down, with the contractions of his lungs. Jeongguk looks to you, then back to the bird. You sit up straighter and pinch it from his chest. He just lets you, because he doesn't wanna be the one to do it. 

He can tell from the wing shape alone that it's one of yours - and even if he couldn't, the way you groan and let your body fall onto his in defeat is a clear sign. He laughs. Strokes his hand up your arm, then ruffles at your hair.

"How bad is it this time?"

You just whine again. 

"That bad?"

Nodding into his chest, you hold out the bird for him to take. Only once his chest begins to stutter beneath you, laughter taking hold of his lungs, do you sit up.

"Stop," you tell him, pouting. 

He doesn't stop laughing. Serves you right for not listening to him earlier. "Christ, Byeol. Are any of these birds-"

"No," you cut him off before he can finish. 

He sighs. Looks up at the ceiling. Shakes his head. Holds the bird to his chest.

"Let's think about this logically first," he says, because it's the only way he can think to not let things get out of hand again like he did last time. "Let's talk about it before we do it instead of after."

You nod. Take a deep breath. "Okay. What are you thinking?"

He looks at you and then back up at the birds. Scrunches his face up. 

"I'm thinking... Fuck, alright, I'll be honest. I haven't done..." he trails off, cringing at himself. "Since my ex - although, technically she isn't an ex, but you know what I mean - since her..."

You wait with bated breath. Know what he's getting at. "You haven't done this in a while?"

He's silent. Lets his head turn to face you. "Haven't done this in a while."

"It's okay. We don't have-"

"No," he says. "A bird is a bird. I want to do it."

"You do?"

"Well," he considers, pretending like it's the first time. He's thought about this a lot; the mechanics of your situation, how it plays out in the future. Risk assessment. He's good at those. Has to do so many of them at university that he's started drawing one up one for the pair of you in his head. "I mean if my birds are making me approach girls, chances are things will head in the direction of hooking up, right?"

You suppose he's right. Tell him as much. 

"So it'd be good for me to get practise in, right?"

"You think you need it?" You grin.

"No. But I enjoy it," he says. Holds his palms up above his head. Observes them. "I like using my hands."

They're large. One of them is covered in tiny tattoos, the other completely bare. Thin veins hide beneath his honey skin, the tendons always protruding just a little bit. The kind of hands that would be good to hold. 

"You've got nice hands," you admit. 

Long fingers. Thick knuckles. Well-trimmed nails. Perfect hands, you consider, but will never divulge. Wouldn't want to boost his ego so much.

"Have you been checking them out?" He teases.

"You made me!" you laugh, deflecting, then imitating his voice. "' Look in the mirror, Disco Ball, blah blah blah. Eyes on me. Watch what I do.' I didn't have a choice."

"Sure," he taunts, but he knows you're probably not being dramatic. He really did make you watch yourself, and is probably gonna do it again. Seemed to work well the last time.

He places his hands beneath the side of his head, and takes a moment to check how you're feeling. 

You reciprocate his actions. Look at him for a little while. Neither of you say a word. It's like you're mentally preparing for what's about to happen; making sure that it's okay. Giving one another the chance to back out. 

You won't, though. Far less of a coward than Jeongguk.  Too much pride. 

"How do we do this?" you whisper. 

He smiles. Just faintly. Tenderly. "However is most comfortable for you."

"Well, yeah," you smile back. It's sweet that he feels the need to clarify this. "But I mean, literally. Logically. How do we- Like- Do I just... take my trousers off?"

"I mean, it could be a start," Jeongguk laughs. "We're thinking about it too hard."

You groan. Look to the ceiling with an embarrassed smile. You're both a little awkward, but it definitely feels like the awkwardness is mainly your problem today.

"Did you... with Jimin. Did you do this?" Jeongguk asks. He's not sure why. Just wants to know. 

The bird lies between you both. Has just two words on it. No exclamation points this time, but still with capital letters. Somehow feels less vulnerable to you than the last one.

GET FINGERED.

You consider not answering. Think it's kind of shitty to air Jimin's laundry in such a way - but it's just as much about you as it is him. More so, even.

"Not really," you admit. "A little bit. I hurried him along."

Jeongguk pauses now. Thinks. Asks, "hurried?"

"It's just kind of what I do," you sigh, pulling your knees a little further up. Closing off. Protecting yourself. Jeongguk pushes them back down again. You let him. "I don't really let people touch me, in that regard. I let them fuck me. Don't let them... have me."

Jeongguk wants to ask what that entails, but figures you'd have shared it if you wanted to. 

"I guess," you continue slowly, quickly glancing away, before deciding that his eyes are what you wanna see when you explain your relationship with sex. You want him to understand - and so you look back to him. He doesn't take his eyes off of you. "I kind of focus on the other person, yanno? For me, sex? Now? It's validation, I guess. Proving to myself I can still give people some form of... I don't know. Satisfaction? So yeah. I don't really want people touching me, as such. I'll touch them. I'll get them off. And I'd prefer it if they didn't get me off."

"It's a power thing, isn't it?" Jeongguk theorises. "Control?"

You're silent. Just shrug. Maybe .

"I think - and you can tell me to shut up if you want - but I think that maybe it's because of your ex. He always held the cards?" Jeongguk pauses, but you don't respond. Just look at his chest. Toy with the silver chain around his neck. "And this is your way of holding them instead?"

The silence remains. You're twisting his chain around his neck, now. Getting the clasp to the nape of his neck instead of at the front where it had been. Jeongguk watches your unfocused eyes and wonders what the fuck is running through that disco ball mind of yours.

"Hey, Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

You shake your head. "You get a say in this. It's not all up to me."

"I know I do," Jeongguk replies without missing a beat. "If I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. You're in control, but I can't be forced to do anything. Good luck trying if you think I can be."

You narrow your eyes a little. "So you're saying you want to do stuff with me?"

He grins. "Well, I don't find you entirely repulsive, even if you are incredibly annoying."

"Always a charmer."

"It's how I get all those girls - oh, wait," he jokes. Pauses. Thinks. Sighs. "Look, I'd rather work through my issues before I fuck up yet another relationship, and from the looks of it, you'd rather work through yours too. It just makes sense."

"I mean, we could just get therapy."

"Expensive."

"Time-consuming," you agree.

"This is far easier," he smirks, before deciding that you've had enough serious chats. There's no point running around in circles again. And so he decides to lighten the mood. "Now do you wanna get fingered or not?"

"Oh my god!" You slap at his chest and roll onto your back, laughing. "You're fucking vulgar."

"Is that a no?"

"It's an ' ask nicely, Jeongguk. '"

He rolls onto his back, now. Laughs, too. "Is that what you want? For me to play nicely?"

"You're not playing at all, yet," you remind him.

There's hesitancy from both of you. It's a little awkward, and so unlike you - but there's no alcohol in your system like there was the first time a bird was attempted, and no excuse to touch like there was with the paint. 

This one is just you and Jeongguk.

"Can I go freshen up first?" You ask, a little nervous and highly aware of the fact you hadn't come with the intention of getting Jeongguk in your underwear. He says of course, but you're halfway out of the door regardless.

As soon as you're in the bathroom, you're rummaging around in the cupboard - praying - looking for a disposable razor of sorts. You know Jeongguk keeps his good one in his room, next to his towels. 

Apparently, Jimin just loves to share regardless of what it is, much to Jeongguk's dismay. It's not like Jimin's razor is here either - he's taken it with him to Busan.

Your search is fruitless, and when you return to Jeongguk's room a little unsure of yourself, jeans off and tossed onto his desk chair, he can sense there's something wrong.

"I haven't shaved," you sort of blurt out, much to his surprise. 

"Okay?" He grins, drying off his wet hands that he'd washed in the kitchen while you were gone. "Nor have I? You want a medal?"

"No, I just-"

"Thought I'd care?" He questions, a little bit offended. "First things first, this isn't about me. It's about you. And secondly, I kinda like it - so I really don't care."

"You like it?"

"I like pussy," Jeongguk simply states. "Like it no matter what way it's served up."

"You're not eating it."

"Not yet."

"You are unbelievable."

"Believe it, Byeol," he winks, perching on the end of his bed. Reaching out, he encourages you closer. Gets your standing between his legs. "Enough fucking around though. I think we should set out some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" You question, knowing it's probably smart. Aren't sure why you didn't think of it first.

He knows why. Casual sex isn't that much of a big deal to you.

Jeongguk's not good at the whole unattached sex thing, though. He only really sleeps with girls he's interested in romantically. 

A boy that looks like him? You had expected him to have well over a dozen notches on his bedpost - but he can count them all on one hand.

It's not that he's a prude, or vanilla, or anything like that. Jeongguk fucks. He fucks well. He just fucks the same people for extended periods of time. Takes comfort in routine. No chance to sleep around when you're as loyal as a dog.

You're the exception, not the rule. Time and time over, it becomes more and more apparent. 

"Rules," he nods.

"No kissing," you reply almost immediately.

"No-" he's about to protest, but then nods. "No kissing."

In fact, he actually agrees with you. He loves kissing. Might even like it more than blowjobs. Would happily take an hour make-out session in lieu of foreplay. For him, it is foreplay.

And so despite how desperately sad he is to know he won't get his favourite thing, he understands why.

He only likes it because of how intimate it is.

"Anything else?"

You take a moment to think, and then decide, "No hand holding, either. And no pet names."

"Not even Byeol?"

"At this point, I'm not even sure you remember my real name, Gguk. Byeol is fine."

He nods, then scrunches his nose in a little disgust. 

"God." He dry-retches. "Imagine calling you something like baby ." He retches again, a light grin tickling his lips as you scoff in offence. "Yeah, no you wouldn't suit anything cute."

"You're so lucky that the idea of you calling me baby repulses me," you flirt right back.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks - and then he's toying with the hem of your shirt. Pushing it up. Ghosting the lace of your thong with the tips of his fingers. "You'd hate it, would you?"

His fingers creep down. The pads of his fingers trace the tops of your thighs. Skirt the lace trim of your panties where they cover your pussy. Has your heart beating at a mile a minute.

"Would be such a turn-off."

The way his eyes scan your face has you wanting to take back every single rule you've just set.

"So you're telling me you're turned on, now?"

His words are met with a shrug. "I don't know, Jeon. Am I?"

"If I'm not allowed pet names, there's no way in hell you're allowed Jeon."

"No?"

He stands. Towers above you. Turns you round. Lowers his head, and lets his lips ghost your ear. "Not unless you wanna get me hard."

You fucking giggle . It's sin. When you turn your head ever so slightly to whisper in his ear, he thinks about saying fuck it to the birds. Needs more than what they're providing. 

"I can feel you. You're already hard, Jeon ."

He pulls away from you. Palms at his crotch. You're right. And so he just smirks. "Fine. Harder ."

"Wouldn't that be a shame," you tease - but are met with a show of dominance you've haven't seen before from Jeongguk as clasps both of your wrists together just above your ass. Positioning you just where he had you last time he was in your room, you know your underwear is getting ruined.

The view reflected back in his full-length mirror only makes your heart beat even faster. 

"I won't lie," he swallows back the nerves that he was able to hide while he was flirting. Down his throat they go, settling next to his heart that's already beating a mile a minute. Positioning himself behind you, he encourages you both to the floor. You're sitting in front of him, as he kneels behind you and pulls you back a little. "You're right. I'm already real fucking hard, Byeol."

"Really?" You smirk. "Couldn't tell."

He tilts his head back. Groans. "God, I hate you. I want you to ignore it, okay? It's my problem to deal with."

All you can do is nod. 

"Okay," he says softly as he leans around to position your legs how wants them: bent at the knees. Spread. You're on display - and Dear lord, what a treat for the audience. A treat for him . "Look in the mirror. Watch me, okay? Watch my hands."

And you do; watch the way his palms lay flat on your knees, then slowly, gradually, trickle down your thighs. "What do you say if you wanna stop?"

"Chess," you say, ending the word with a gasp as his thumbs brush the outer lace of your panties. 

"Good girl," he hums into your ear, but you can barely hear him over your beating heart as his thumb begins to stroke over your clothed pussy. You're already soaked. It wets his thumb. Has him smirking. "Told you so."

He pushes the lace to the side. Exposes you. Makes him curse. Is slow as he sinks a single finger into you. 

He keeps it shallow. Just the first two knuckles. Just enough to let you know he's there. You can still see the ink on his finger. 

The moan you exhale is desperate. Needy . Gets him all smug. 

"Just testing the waters," he husks into your ear as he pulls it back out, before the pads of his fingers begin to massage around your entrance.  He's teasing. Caressing. Doing shit you've only ever had women do to you. The dudes you've fucked have never really cared for stimulation beyond the clit; haven't understood that the right touches in slightly different places can get you so fucking needy. 

Needy like you mean it. Not the bratty kind, where you're in control; the pathetic kind, where they're in control. 

He's massaging. Using his thumb and forefinger. Working his way up your labia; left side, then right. Up, then down. 

It's not like the sensation is anywhere close to what it feels like when his fingers are elsewhere, but it's the fact he's doing it all that really gets you flustered. He's careful . Delicate. Wants you to feel good. 

When you let out a moan, you can feel him smirk against you. He lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes his middle finger inside; fully this time. Pumps into you once, twice - "are you always this wet?" - then begins to stroke against your front wall. You whine.

He pushes into you again. Tells you how fucking hot you sound. Pulls out. In again. And then he builds speed. Fucks his finger into you. Just one - but it's enough.

Finally, you answer him between laboured breaths.

"Dunno. You'll have to do this again sometime and figure it out."

Withdrawing his finger, Jeongguk rubs small circles over your clit. Holds onto you tighter. Smirks as your whimpers begin to build. His nose nestles into your hair, lips against your ear. "You want that, huh?"

The way your hips push up and grind against his languid movements should be indication enough - but you don't want to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

You smirk right back. "Meh. You could always just compare notes with Jimin, instead."

He pauses for a split second. Scoffs. Sinks his finger back into you. Builds pace. Can hear the sounds of your soaked cunt and knows that it would be cruel to compare. Jimin wouldn't stand a chance. There's no way he had you like this, too.

And Jeongguk would be right. The way Jeongguk has you now is unlike any of your hookups. You're sober, for a start, and that always helps in the wetness department - but you are wetter than you've been in a fair while.

His fingers are long. Intentional in the way they move. His middle finger hits all the right spots as it pushes into you. He curls it gently without needing to be told. He just knows. Can feel the slight difference in texture. Had trained himself to find it in the past, and is pleased to see yours is just as easy to locate.

You don't think Seokjin ever found it. Not really. For a while, you pretended he could - but it never felt like this.

"Gguk," you rasp, ridding your mind of all thoughts of Seokjin. He's no right to be in your brain when it's someone else making you feel so good. "Right there. Right there. Fuck."

"I know," he husks. "Can you take another?"

All do you do is nod. Moan something incoherent. You want more.

He can tell.

"Can you take three?" he asks. You just fucking nod. Will take what he gives you. "Mhhm?" 

He bites down the syllables, stopping the 'baby' he wants to mewl from coming out. He knows pet names are a no, but it's a force of habit. It's just like the muscle memory in his fingers knowing how he should touch you; something well trained, well practised.

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Has your cunt stuffed with his fingers. Will make you cum.  

It's just as much for him now as it is for you. He's watching your face, how you refuse to open your eyes, how your dewy lips are rested ajar, soft moans humming from your throat. 

He kind of hates the rules. Knows they serve a purpose, and that they're smart, but it'd be so much easier for him if he could kiss you. 

It's not that he actively wants to make out with you, it's just that it comes naturally to him. He doesn't think he's ever been inside a woman without actually kissing her. There's a sizable portion of his brain which is having to work against his instincts, now. If he didn't have to waste that energy, he could spend it on you instead.

But it also makes it exciting. A little sordid. You've removed the romance he typically associates with a position as promiscuous as this. Maybe he is capable of fucking around.

"I know," he husks as your body writhes beneath his touch. "Ba-" Shit . "Byeol, I know. That feel good?"

Feel good? Feel good? What kind of a fucking question is that? If you could form a coherent sentence instead of moaning every other second, you'd ask him as such. Instead, you settle with, "fuck."  

"Should I take that as a yes?" he smirks against your hair, his second hand dropping from the grip it has on your waist down to your pussy. Pushing your thighs a little further apart, Jeongguk has you in the palm of his hand like a fucking ragdoll. His hands work in tandem, fingers plunging into your while he rubs dainty circles over your clit, careful to not be too aggressive. He's taking his time. Building your high. 

"Take it as a 'you could do better'," you whine, just to wind him up a little. He's doing fucking fantastic.

" Better ?" He sounds offended, but is smirking, watching pleasure take hold of your features. He loves the way you goad him on. Knows you must be a right little brat in the right scenario. Think maybe one day, he'd like to experience it fully. For now, he simply growls into your ear. "Open your eyes. Look at yourself." He builds his pace. The sounds of him sliding into you are lewd. Soaking. Sopping wet. "You hear that? Tell me to do better again. Go on. I dare you."

Your gaze opens, all hazy and cum-drunk, falling on the mirror. Your skin is dewy, and the incident positioning of your spread legs puts you on full display. 

Jeongguk withdraws his fingers. Spreads your lips open. Holds his stare on you. Watches as your wetness drips from your entrance. Rubs circles on your clit. Encourages more . Watches as it seeps from you. Presses his hips upwards to let you know he's still fucking solid for you. He gathers your leaking slick on his index and middle finger, then pushes it back into you. 

He's panting, too. 

And so you smirk. Watch the pained lust in his eyes. Tell him, "do better," in a hushed whisper.

He's slow. Lets his touches linger. Doesn't pump into you like he had been - instead, he scissors his fingers ever so gently - and that's when you decide he's a menace to society and that you're probably doing the world a favour by keeping him off the streets for a little while longer.

"Holy shit," you hiss, and then your fingers are wrapped around his wrist again. He fucking laughs. 

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his smirk not hiding his teeth. He's thinking about kissing you again. Just a small one. On the side of your head. Has to talk just to stop himself.

"That better, Byeol?" 

All you can do is whine. Nod a little. 

"Can't hear you. I asked a question. Give me an answer," he teases. "Now, is this better, Byeol?"

"No," you lie. "Considerably worse."

"Fine," he says, and pulls out. Grips your thighs with his soaked fingers. Squeezes them together. Lets you pant for a little while. He's panting, too. "On your knees."

"Sorry?"

"You will be," he smirks, changing his position behind you. "Get on your knees."

And so you do. You relinquish trust to him. Feel like you might have a heart attack from how fast it's beating - but he knows this. Strokes the curve of your hip. Hugs you into his chest ever so slightly and says, "the minute it gets too much, or you decide you've done enough... just say the word, Byeol." 

He nuzzles his nose against your hair. Likes the way it smells. Hugs you a little tighter, still. 

You nod. "At least tell me how you want me, first?"

It's the mental preparation you need, much more than physical. He knows this. Knows that his teasing has a time and a place. What was okay a few moments ago would be too brash now - so he tries a little tenderness once more. 

He waits for you to look at him. Not in the mirror this time, but head turned, eyes on his. The glitter on your eyes catches in the light. Reflects in his eyes. Puts stars in them.

"On your front. Head down," he says slowly, not wanting it to sound crude. "Ass up. Or just flat on your front, if you'd rather. Up to you. Wait-" He stands, holding out his hand for you to take. When you do, he pulls you up and guides you to his bed instead. Lets you sit. He still stands. "Just realised I was asking you to be facedown on the literal floor. My bad."

You don't say anything, just smile at the fact he realised it. Such a boy, and yet such a gent. He's trouble, there's no doubt about it. As your eyes study his face, he seems sincere - and so you turn. Lean forward. Stretch out. Face down, ass up.

"Fuck," he hisses and gets on his knees behind you. One of his hands grapples at your ass, fingers sinking into the peachy flesh. He strokes against the soft skin, and then asks, "how do you feel about spanking?"

You smirk into his sheets. Plunge even further into them. Raise your ass even higher. "It's not on the bird."

His fingers dig further into your cheek. You're mewling. He's getting delirious again. "Byeol..."

The way you move your hips ever so slightly is absolute sin . You know you're trying to make him crack. You know it's working. "Mhmm?"

He pulls you back. Presses the bulge in his trousers against you. He's still hard. Harder, even. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close, even as he retracts - before pulling you tight to him. Repeats. Ruts himself against you a couple more times.

"If one of those birds doesn't end with me fucking you-"

"You'll what?" you say with a sardonic smile as you twist your body around and out of his grasp. You're on your back now, reaching for his shirt, pulling him down. 

He complies. Tangles his legs with yours. Lets his hand cup your heat. Toys with you. Teases. 

"What will you do, huh?" You flirt. "Die?"

He smirks now, too. Knows that you're taking the piss. Quite likes it. Likes that you remember the shit he says when he gets too horny for his own good.

"Maybe," he husks, sinking his fingers inside you again. Didn't even get to have you how he wanted you, but he likes this. Likes the flirt. Likes how erratic your breathing gets. 

"Guess you'll just have to - fuck - keep waiting for them to fall," you turn a little. Hook your leg over his hip. Grind against him. Ride his fingers. "See if you get what you want."

"I'm incredibly patient," he lies. Builds the speed he's fucking them into you at. Uses the hand that's not bringing you closer and closer to climax to hold your chin. Wants to keep you looking at him. 

"Liar."

"I'll do this for hours if it means making you cum," he almost snarls over the sound of your moans.

You laugh. Stutter on the moans in your throat. Tell him good luck. Let him know that you can't remember the last time someone else made you orgasm. You can do it yourself, easy. Someone else? Good fucking luck.

"Fine. We're gonna make you cum," he says as if it's a group activity - but then he drops his grip from your chin and reaches to the hand of yours that had been hooked over his shoulder. Guides it to your pussy. "Get yourself off."

You stare at him for a moment. His pace eases, but his gaze doesn't drop. He's slow. Rubs at you just in the right way. And then he says, "get yourself off while I'm inside you."

You say nothing. Do as you're told.

"Good girl."

It doesn't take long. If anything, it's embarrassing how quickly he has you coming undone. Admittedly, you're just as much a part of it as he is. Without your input, maybe he would have had to have been going for hours.

But you are involved, and you're shaking around him. Legs trembling. Toes pointed. Head buried into his chest, fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from overstimulating you too much. His name escapes your lips as your orgasm ripples through your muscles, and Jeongguk just fucking laughs.

"So fuckin' hot," he praises, lips pouty, in desperate need of a kiss to offset the fact he's practically leaking precum into his pants.

Rules are rules, though. They're not made to be broken. Not these ones.

He withdraws from you, and wipes the mess on his sheets. Will deal with it later. Watches you as you giggle to yourself, orgasm well and truly delivered. When your eyes open and focus on him, Jeongguk is pleased. You look content. 

"I'm still scared," you simper. "We might have to practise that one a few times."

He laughs now, too. Rolls onto his back. Can smell your arousal on his fingers. Has never been more hungry in his entire life.

"Such a liar."

But you both are, in your own ways. 

"Maybe. Thank you... for that," you say, very aware of the unfair dynamics of just you getting off, but knowing that without a fallen bird to specify it, there's no way you can just reciprocate.

"Pleasures all mine," he says, as if he isn't letting himself get severely blue-balled. Knows what the agreement is though. You getting him off now would be just for his benefit. He laments the fact he's not scared of blowjobs. Wishes all of his birds were like yours, now.

The silence consumes you both. Has you wondering why you never come undone like that normally. Makes you think maybe you need to stop preventing people from touching you in such a way. Jimin had tried. You can remember - but you'd dismissed him. 

He's not the only person you've dismissed in such a way. Perhaps you will enjoy casual sex more if you don't keep your desires at bay. Maybe Jeongguk's been right about this all along.

"Anyways," you turn to face him. "Phone."

"Hmm?"

"Well, we've done my bird. We need to do yours from earlier."

Jeongguk says nothing. Is a little bit confused. He's still hard. You've barely come down from your orgasm. Surely nows not the time?

You couldn't disagree more even if you tried. It's the perfect time. Stops you from thinking about how fucking good that was, and how much you want it to happen again.

"You... want me to invite a girl round?"

"Well, not while I'm still here" you consider. "Like, text them now, but arrange it for another time."

"Yeah, but-" Jeongguk wants to protest. Wants to remind you that his sheets are covered in you. Instead, he just looks at the ceiling, a little baffled.

"If it's too much, why don't you just text a girl, at least?"

He frowns. You don't notice, because you're looking at the ceiling, too.

But then he sighs. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is being a coward. 

"Alright," he reaches for his phone from the nightstand. Unlocks it, and opens up his Instagram DMs. Looks over to you. Catches your gaze. Smiles, despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "What do I say?"

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[dead-lights]

the old guard: first day of school

I really like doing everyone-goes-to-high-school-together AUs and I've been working with Century Conflict-era sims recently, so what better way for me to get in the mood for my Simblreen renders than to send the old guard to Copperdale together?

We've got a full house - Tess, Ethren, Keisha, Inna, Elle, Vlad, Dillon, and Maria Volkov. I aged them down to teenagers, gave them teen ambitions, reset all of their powers, and moved them into the Price family's house. Don't ask what happened to the Prices.

As expected, Maria started with negative relationships with all of the vampires. Despite that, the very first thing Inna did when I hit play was walk over to Maria to start making jokes. Despite their initially negative relationship, they were friends by lunchtime. They both have the good trait - I think that really helped.

Inna's getting into photography, and Maria is happy to model for her.

I turned one of the bedrooms into a little lounge for them. I really like making study clubs, so I had Inna set one up. By the time they were done with their homework, almost everybody was on good terms, except for Vlad, who is Vlad, and Tess, who was practicing magic outside and missed all the fun.

The next morning was their first day at school. The game kinda bugged out a bit and only Inna got event goals (and only Inna had any performance increased from going to school) but I had no time to worry about that - while the other vampires spent the previous day exploring vampire lore and were able to buy plasma packs, Vlad decided to wait for a live meal. The first thing he did was ambush the janitor.

Apparently this awakened something within Vlad, because at that moment he stated experiencing the onset of puberty.

Poor thing.

The students filtered into class - with 8 teens from one household all attending school at the same time, they took up the entire classroom. Most of them made it on time, with Ethren slipping in just in time for class to start. Maria and Vlad, on the other hand, were nowhere to be found.

Maria, as it turned out, was pumping iron in the basement. She took her sweet time getting to class - she has the genius trait, so I guess she doesn't think she needs lectures. Still, she did make it to class, even if she missed the first half.

Vlad, on the other hand, was really struggling with the whole onset of puberty thing. He flew to the bathroom and tried to give himself a pep talk. When that didn't make him feel better, he decided, fuck going to class! and flew down to the computer room to troll teh forums.

He's going through some stuff, okay

Keisha, true to form, couldn't help getting a bit silly.

Though Elle and Dillon almost maxed out their relationship the first night (they stayed up playing chess while the mortals slept) Elle has a crush on Inna. A crush that seems to be causing her actual physical pain. Not sure if it's the agony of watching Inna beaming at her werewolf bestie or just the discomfort of all those teenage hormones, but poor Elle is not having a good time. She flew off to the bathroom to give herself a pep talk.

It was at this point that I realized that Ethren was in the bathroom stall, trying to go about his business. Normally vampire bathroom ambushes involve the vampire doing the ambushing, but ok.

Elle, I know you don't show up in mirrors, but Ethren can definitely still see you.

ok maybe he can't see you. dude just straight-up walked through her, washed his hands, and went to play football with Tess.

Vlad, in the meantime, decided it was time to learn to play the violin. Elle, who actually does know how to play violin, tried to be supportive of his efforts, but ultimately couldn't take it.

I don't think he blames her.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta for calling my friend out for ditching a hangout

So I (18nb) and a friend, A (18ftm) had this conversation 2 months ago, we talked about how we'll go watch a movie that we've been really excited about & also celebrate our birthdays together since he'll be on break and back from college. Fast forwards to this week, we agreed that us & a few close friends will be going to the movie together. Suddenly A has to ditch the plan cuz he suddenly has a class scheduled on the day he's supposed to come back, sure no big deal, that's not why I'm upset.

The hangout went through a bit of rescheduling cuz I suddenly had a class cancelled and that freed up my schedule, I have been rescheduling this for more than 4 times now, as I have another function to be at, and also mainly to try to make it so that we can accommodate A since it was his idea to go watch the movie at the first place.

So I texted A about our new plan , but he has a tendency to just straight up ignore our texts for weeks or even months on end. And here's the thing, turns out A had agreed to watching the same movie with his other friend B (18m, who is also my ex, A knows about it & the fact that I am not really on good terms with B). Apparently during the time I had been trying to reach out to A to properly discuss the situation, he had been chatting w B about watching the movie together.

And I feel betrayed by A, we planned this way before B decided to join, and A just won't look at his messages and give me the opportunity to even discuss it with him. I had to reschedule this many times trying to accommodate him, one of the plan was for me to miss out on another function with another friend group btw, I was willing to sacrifice that & annoy my friends just so we can watch the movie together. Just for A to ditch us at last second (the movie is like 2 days away during the time of writing when I've been messaging him about it for a whole week now btw)

And for people thinking that we could've just combined the 2 friend groups & go together, I intended the hangout to be a way to spend time w my queer neurodivergent friends & like get loose a little since I've spent a majority of my time masking, this is an opportunity to let me be myself, something that I don't get to do if B is around. So this hangout means a lot to me.

tl:dr wibta for calling my friend out for ditching a hangout that went through reschedules just so he can make it, just to be told that he is ditching our friends & going with my ex?

What are these acronyms?

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Personality through quotes

Thanks @willtheweaver here, @melpomene-grey here, @somethingclevermahogony here, and @awritingcaitlin here!

Rules: give quotes from your OCs based on the given prompt!

Got long, under the cut!

Prompt: Being caught red-handed

Lexi: *sobbing* “I am so so so so so sorry please - please I understand if - if you don't see that but - but I really mean it! You should understand! You do, right?”

Maddie: “Fine, I did it. But if you think about it, you were supposed to look out for that, so in a way, it's both of our faults.”

Ash: “I did it, that's true, but lookey here...” *pulls out $5* “diiiid I?”

Gwen: “Well, you got me... I'm really sorry I was... I was trying to help, y'know? I try my best and sometimes I mess up, and it's not good enough. I had no idea this meant that much to you. I'm really sorry. If I knew, I would've been much more careful. You know me, right?”

Robbie: *standing up straight, hands on hips, but noticeably bouncing on his toes* “Look, I know it looks bad. But in my defense...I literally forgot. And I was stressed.”

Akash: *trying not to panic* “Please, just believe me when I said that it was an accident. Genuinely. You won't to put me in too much trouble for an accident, right?”

Jedi: “My sincerest apologies. I am humbled by this experience. I admit that I did this terrible thing. You must think little of me. Perhaps I went a bit too far. It shall not happen again.”

Carmen: “I cannot believe I'm being interrogated! You actually think you've caught me doing a wrong-doing? Tt. You haven't caught anything! Who are you going to get me in trouble with? No one! Agh! This is a pointless conversation. If you're going to ask me questions to get answers from me, the least you can do is not sound idiotic.”

Prompt: About someone they wish they could forget

Lexi: “I wish I could forget Shelby entirely. I mean, I don't remember first grade to begin with, other than that something happened that made me hate her forever. I wish it could've all gone. Then again...maybe it helped Ash, in the end. I'm not entirely sure.”

Maddie: “Hm. Brycen. I miss him sometimes since he used to be a friend. I wish I could forget him, so I won't have to miss him.”

Ash: “I want to say Frank, but I dunno what effect that would have on Mikey, so I'm picking Mr. Jimenez. Whatever creepy thing happened at his house I'd like to forget.”

Gwen: “I don't want to forget anyone. It's shaped me into who I am today. However... There was this one rude girl, Chailey, in elementary school. I guess her.”

Robbie: “Jason Sturges. I called that guy so many insults, I can't regurgitate them all.”

Akash: “Jason Sturges. Middle school was bad enough.”

Jedi: “I would not mind forgetting the man my father was.”

Carmen: “My uncle. I hope he is not resting in peace.”

Prompt: You're completely lost in ____(fill in the location)

Lexi: “If I'm lost, I'm gonna be honest, I'll panic. Before I found out I had teleportation, that is. Though my instinct may be panic first anyway. It felt so weird being in Alium for the first time. I felt more lost there than ever.”

Maddie: “I get lost in places like the mall. I only visit, like, three stores, so I don't know where I am if I'm not in my usual stops.”

Ash: “I get lost in my aunt Reyna's house. Is that normal? It's almost a maze.”

Gwen: “On my first morning run, I got lost in my neighborhood. I think I took a wrong turn and got to a street I've never been on. So it threw me off, and it took about ten minutes to find my way back. Maybe it was shorter. But it felt like ten minutes.”

Robbie: “I get lost in my school all the time. It's pretty big, which is pretty annoying when I space out. It took me forever to find my classes on the first day. First week, actually. I kept forgetting.”

Akash: “I don't usually get lost, actually. I have a good sense of where I am. So I'm usually Robbie's guide that first week of classes. But when the whole Alium thing happened, it freaked me out.”

Jedi: “I believe we are speaking literally, for I have become lost in my work before. In the case of the former, I have found certain cities hard to navigate, even when I studied maps beforehand.”

Carmen: “Tt, I don't get lost.”

Prompt: A quote about bad weather.

Lexi: “Oh, I hate bad weather! It completely ruins my plans that I make with my friends. I mean, yeah, rain is good, but come on! Why when I have an outdoor activity plan!?”

Maddie: “Hm. I dunno, I don't care about bad weather. I mean, sometimes I want to be outside but I can't, but I don't mind the rain.”

Ash: “I don't care if rain ruins my plans. I'll just do something else. But I don't like if I can't do what I want, like if a hurricane keeps me trapped inside my house. That's the worst.”

Gwen: “Well... Bad weather has its ups and downs. I don't like the rain ruining my plans, but if I'm inside all day, it's really nice atmosphere for reading!!”

Robbie: “Ah, bad weather...would be a lot more fun if my mother didn't fuss about how dangerous playing outside is.”

Akash: “Logical brain says bad weather is natural. Emotional brain says I agree with Lexi, I hate bad weather.”

Jedi: “Sector 2 is rather small and completely surrounded by water. We have many powerful hydrokinetics whose job it is to prevent flooding or destruction. Sector 9 has less of those, but we are close enough to a coast to get a lot of rain and occasionally potential flooding if the season is right.”

Carmen: “Miss Morgan and Mr. Singh had a point when they said they hate bad weather. I happen to strongly agree, though my reasoning is irrelevant.”

Prompt: [A quote about reading]

Lexi: “I like reading, but I usually will gravitate towards audiobooks so I can multitask. Sometimes if I don't feel like music I'll turn on an audiobook while I'm riding my bike or working on my garden! And sometimes I'll peek at some fanfiction....”

Maddie: “Sometimes I'll read a cool sci-fi book. And sometimes nonfiction stuff about technology. Also decided to check out some Star Trek fanfiction. I'm not sure if I should be doing that.”

Ash: “My shelves are full of high fantasy and cool robotics stuff. And puzzle books.”

Gwen: *lights up* “Oh, I love reading!!! My walls are lined with shelves that I got when I ran out of room on my bookshelf! It feels so cozy being surrounded by books, and I usually curl up and read a book in my little reading corner to wind down at night.”

Robbie: “Reading is super cool for something I don't do as often as I'd like. I've been reading more Webtoons lately and some manga. That's awesome.”

Akash: “I'm still reading the book series I loved in fourth grade, like Wings of Fire. Who cares that I'm a high school freshman now? That's basically still middle school. And sometimes Robbie will pester me until I read a web comic.”

Jedi: “I have been so busy with my work lately that I do not often read for pleasure. Even still, reading for pleasure usually included science or speculative fiction.”

Carmen: “I don't read often. Just research papers.” [she likes historical romances even if she'll do nothing but complain about them I know it]

Tagging @mysticstarlightduck @cherrybombfangirlwrites @mk-writes-stuff @monstrouswrites @drchenquill

+ ANYONE ELSE

Your prompt: [A quote about the ocean]

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[shrimplymoray]

PLS.. KILL LILIA. MAKE HIM SUFFER IN THE AFTERMATH OF BOOK SEVEN. MAKE HIM BED RIDDEN AND DIE SLOWLY. I CRAVE ANGST. MAKE HIS SONS BE SAD TOO. PLEASE.

ok I’ll get into actual details.. ermm could u pls make a lil fic on Lilia basically DYING still after everyone wakes up and Malleus is out of his OB form?? :33 And also make Malleus feel pretty guilty too for extra angst!! :3333 Actually MAKE ALL LILIA’S SONS GUILTY IF YA CAN 🙏🙏 I just need angst dude .. AND PLS MAKE LILIA ACTUALLY DIE AT THE END!! /NF!!

EHEHEHHEHE. I'm so sorry for putting off on my Requests, I've been doing a bunch of stuff, and I've barely been able to keep my head on my shoulders and think straight. HOWEVER i'm trying to get back to writing slowly.

PS: as it was not requested, this is not a pairing. Also GN Yuu's POV.

TW: BOOK 7 SPOILERS, Main Character's Death, Angst with no Comfort, Vague death description, Grief (and a lot on that)

Diasomnia Angst - Death of a Hero

It all seemed well. The thorns that involved the island had retreated into the ground, as soon as Malleus fell unconscious after his Overblot. The battle was exhaustive, everyone barely keeping up, but we won. That's what matters, right? Everyone is here, fine and well. Me, Grim, Ace, Deuce... We are all well. The Diasomnia Students, much like all students, don't have life-threatening wounds, as it seems. So why... Why is the smell of blood lingering in the air? It took a while for all of us to notice it, at first. As we all know by now, Lilia is great at hiding his hurt through a boyish smile. And that is what everyone saw, the boyish comforting smile of the man who knows no end to his pain. It took him way too long to show his miseries of the past, but this one, oh, this one came crawling up way quicker.

Silver was there to catch him when he fell unconscious, Lilia had a deep, horrible gash on his abdomen. It revealed past scars, but the way the blood fell around his limp body, it showed us what we did not want to know and hear. It was me, Sebek, and Silver who took both Malleus and Lilia to the infirmary. They knew the procedure for Malleus' case, although his overblot was tougher than any other. But Lilia... The Nurse and Professor Crewel said - no, they didn't say, they promised us- they would do whatever they could to keep him alive.

It took 2 days. Two days for the news to break. I wasn't there when they told them, but I heard what happened from another Diasomnia student in my class: Silver's head dipped down, and he broke crying, while Sebek yelled they didn't do enough. That they could've done something and they didn't. That they lied to them. Malleus was already back on his feet by that time, and at that, he didn't say anything but wished that the body was sent to the castle at Briar Valley. That day, when I found Sebek, I hugged him. I never clung so hard to someone in my life, like how I did with Sebek. And I said how sorry I was, and how I wished I could've done more. Sebek stood still before he muttered meaningless apologies. He said, "I'm sorry for failing Master Lilia.", "I'm sorry that I wasn't stronger to help Silver and Master Lilia" and even "I'm sorry, it's all my fault." Professor Crewel saw us and said we would have the day off. Sebek and I went to the Diasomnia Dorm that afternoon and started packing Lilia's things with Silver. Silver usually stayed calm and collected around others, and was a voice of reason among the three of us, but at that moment, I didn't see him as the retained or Malleus, or as one of the heroes of the Sage Island. No, I saw him as a boy. A Boy who just lost his father.

That night, I waited patiently for Hornton to visit my dorm. He usually wasn't late, but that night, it seemed like thousands of days passed before he arrived. When I saw him, he looked oddly calm. He sat down on the porch by my side and told me the stories he lived with Lilia or the ones he heard from him. It was like a child. I could do nothing but hug him, and at that moment, he said how sorry he was, that the only thing he wanted was to keep everyone safe with him, and how he failed. He said "I know that if he heard me like this, he would giggle and brush it off as if it was nothing. He would tell me to not get stuck on what I failed to do but to focus on what I must proceed doing afterwards. But... I can't. I can't remember and think this without knowing what I did." Malleus seemed to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders and yet... He opened up to me, nothing but a human from another world. "Please," he said " I beg of you, to not forgive me for the crimes I did. I am not worthy of forgiveness if I wasn't able to save the one that raised me before anyone else." I couldn't do anything but Hug him harder, and try muttering how much it mattered that he deserved forgiveness. I think we stayed out there for way longer than usual because Sebek, Silver, and Grim came to meet us. Malleus only managed to look at Sebek and Silver before he kneeled down and said the same he did to me. Sebek and Silver looked at each other, and we all hugged Malleus, crying. Even Grim joined.

I know it will take a while for everyone to be able to go back to normal if we even do that. But I hope somewhere, in the Underworld, Lilia will think and protect us. The Ghosts of the dorm said that if we got lucky, Lilia's ghost could visit us. I don't think that was what we needed to hear, but... it is a start.

Hope you enjoy this! It was very different from what I usually write, but I worked hard on it.

[emawinslow]

okay the conversation before I forget it.

we talked for two and a half hours and we walked three full laps around campus and for the first 3/4 of a lap we were just talking about our classes and what we've been up to and whatever the fuck. I mentioned something about my stomach hurting and not feeling super great and he was like "well it's probably your poor diet" then went on about how I shouldn't just eat the same three things and how I need a balanced diet and how I should "just eat more" and that I was malnourished and told me what I should have at each meal like. FUCK you like actually go to hell. when you Know I've had a lot of stomach problems and eating problems? go fuck yourself.

but that was a graceful lead in to me being like "yeah well my stomach also hurts because I was super nervous to talk to you" and he was like "oh?" and I was like "yeah did you really think we were gonna be able to just move on like none of this happened?" and he was like "no I guess not...." so I busted out my checklist of points to cover (yes I physically had the checklist pulled up for this conversation. sue me I had things to say) and each individual grievance are things I've posted about before so I don't need to rehash them all to you. but I will tell you his responses. because it was like 95% me talking I will admit. I led with the big thing I wanted to ask him, which was if he wanted to actually be friends with Me or if he wanted to stay my friend because he was holding onto some hope that I would become a better person that was easier for him to like and get along with. and naturally he didn't actually have an answer to this question. and when I asked if he didn't want to be my friend bc I was mean and it made him uncomfortable or because he wanted to change the way our friend group spent time together, he said that me being mean led to him wanting to change how we spent time together and the group dynamic which like. doesn't make much sense but whatever I didn't push.

I explained that I had resigned myself to no longer being his friend after he never replied to my apology text and that I was okay with that. he seemed like he was hurt by that but who's the one who didn't reply to my text. and that if we never talked again I would have been more upset I never got closure than upset that we weren't friends anymore. so I asked him if he even wanted to continue being my friend and he was like "I don't know..." so I did have to be the one to be like "we're both trying our best to be the best versions of ourselves and this friendship isn't working out, so i don’t really see how this could continue" and he asked me straight up if I wanted to be his friend still and I said no. I was Really proud of myself for getting up the nerve and just saying I didn't want to be his friend anymore. because my biggest fear coming into this is that I would pussy out of doing that. and I didn't!!!!

I brought up that he (and the others) said he cared about me a lot more than he actually showed it and he just didn't have a response to this boooooo👎

he talked about how he wishes we could go back to the good ol days of riverdale nights in the lounge and how that's just not possible with the newfound distance between us (I made a joke after he said distance where i said "yeah x miles haha" and he said "well yeah but i meant more emotional distance" like yeah buddy😐 I know.). and I had to break it to him for the third time so that he could hopefully get it through his thick skull that I was in fact not actually having a good time back in may! I was miserable! I wasn't sleeping or eating and it sucked! and I get those were his good ol days but I hope I got him to realize there never even Were any good ol days for me.

one of my Big Things I brought up that I really liked is I said that whenever I explained this story to people (my best friend my mom and clara (rip) namely), what was going on with him that they always said something to the tune of "when you find your people, it won't be like this" (a lot of people also said they hoped he died but I opted not to tell him that). and that's so true! when I find my people (I have already found some of them) it literally isn't like this! radio friend and my bestie and my mom and sister and all of you and those lifelong friends I mention when we see each other twice a year would never treat me like this!!!!

the things he Did apologize for when I brought them up to him: being dismissive of my sexuality (it was not that thorough of an apology he was like "wow yeah that sucks im sorry" without actually really owning up to it but whatever ig), being condescending (he really can't help it so he just said he was sorry he made me feel condescended to and that was enough for me), accidentally making me feel alienated (I explained to him why I felt that way (bi guy jason not telling me things, them obviously being closer with each other than they were with me, that time they took off in my car for two hours without me) and it deemed like he genuinely felt bad about how alone that made me feel), and he said he was sorry after I explained that I always felt like shit about myself and like such an awful person after we hang out and how I didn't know what I was doing wrong to make them all not like me because I was really trying etc. but he did seem surprised that I picked up on the fact that they didn't like me which leads back to the whole condescension and him thinking I'm stupid thing. like you guys were not fucking subtle.

the things he did Not apologize for when I brought them up: saying he felt like he didn't know much about me but never actually asking about me (I explained how he never asked about me and when I talked about myself he seemed disinterested and he said "I'm not the type of person who makes bullet points when I talk to somebody" like okay fuck you. he also said some bs about how he just prefers to let the conversation flow naturally and how he doesn't like to ask questions. like okay then how are people supposed to know you actually want to talk to them?), being upset with me for never hanging out outside of bachelorette nights when He never asked Me to hang out outside of bachelorette nights (he was just like "yeah I should have reached out and not put that all on you" but he didn't actually say the words "im sorry" or seem to see what was wrong with that so im not counting it👎)

I didn't bring up sarah suitemate that much bc whatever the fuck her and I have going on is simply not his business also it's too complicated for any man let alone one with the brain the size of a pea to understand so I figured why bother. but I did bring up bi guy jason (who bi guy 2 insists never had a crush on me btw. which. if that's true all that worrying myself literally sick was for NOTHING!!!) and I asked if it would be worth it for me to reach out to him to try and get some closure there and he was like "ummm no I don't think that's a good idea. I think he's pretty much already done with you and wants to quietly lay this friendship to rest" like okay. well I'll go fuck myself then. because for the record bi guy jason was always Way worse to me than bi guy 2. so honestly he can kill himself.

it's worth it to note I did a lot of clarifying and apologizing in this conversation to make sure he didn't think I like. hated him or something. and like no matter what I say I really Don't hate him I just think he's a dick and a shitty friend.

I wish I had asked why he was doing so bad he couldn't respond to my text but I forgot and that's all over now.

but yes! the conclusion! as previously stated we kind of agreed to just like. not be friends but be cool with each other. which is the idea end outcome. I just didn't want to have to do any of that awkward pretending I didn't see him while walking on campus bullshit. and I think we're at a point where we can just say hi and appreciate the lols we had while this lasted.