#go back to school for what?! i have so much debt let me just go get a phd then that wont amount to me making more money and still work full

[ratwars]

This lady just suggested I go back to school and I had such a visceral reaction I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm mad at her now.

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[ak4e7a]

Men I Love Fucking — milf lovers!hyung line

hiiiiiiii! i, the president of dumb baby nation, have been gone for too long … here is my surprise comeback to enhablr (it’s so apt of me as mother to schedule my comeback for mother’s day) … i present to you, milf lover!hyung line :D enjoy >:)

minors dni, you know the drill. @karinasbaby and @enha-stars, this one's for you. thank you both for listening to me yap about this and helping me with ideas ≽ܫ≼

cw: degradation, breeding kink, sugar daddy jay, i got super carried away with jake's for some reason idk. sunghoon gets his own warning lmao

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿˚₊

heeseung loves milfs in the sense that he’s pining after his older sister’s best friend. he never looked your way before, but once you announced that you were pregnant, it was over for him. suddenly, he found himself spending his nights ignoring his friends’ requests to hop off the game, and instead in his bed, fucking his fist to the image of you, his sister’s best friend, belly round and tits swollen with milk, imagining that you were pregnant with his child. he fantasizes about which positions he'd use to knock you up with. doggy? reverse cowgirl? mating press? he thinks about it so much that he’s convinced he’s the father. and with the way you let him sneak into your house so he can lay you on your side and fuck you like he’s trying to get you pregnant again, he just might be the father. (he is, but you're holding onto that secret for as long as you can.)

another night of being his sneaky link sounds like:

“i thought us fucking was a one-time thing, but if i knocked you up on the first try, there’s no way i’m letting you go.”

“you just love this dick so much you had to have my baby, hm?”

“f-fuck, pussy’s so good, babe. still so fucking tight no matter what i do to you, isn’t that right?”

“gonna cum, fuck, fuck, turn over, please! wanna cum on your tits. they look so pretty, full of milk for our baby.”

———

jay loves milfs in the sense that he loves the dynamic. if you’re the milf, he’s the daddy who provides. you met him while waitressing at a restaurant that he just happened to be a regular at; he fell in love with how sweet you were whenever you’d be the one to wait on his table. he liked you so much he started requesting you by name whenever he’d come in. one thing led to another, and now here you are, sitting pretty in his penthouse apartment, with everything taken care of for you. he’s paying for you to go back to school, he’s paid off your debt, bought you a car, anything you want, it’s yours—all you have to do is give him your pussy whenever and wherever he wants it. jay’s just so devoted to you, because you make him feel like a man, in the purest sense of the word. he feels like a protector and a provider and he loves it and it’s all thanks to you.

above all else, jay is a provider first and foremost, giving you anything from money to gifts to his cum and his love:

“you like that new purse i got you, baby? yeah? then you know how to thank me. get on your knees.”

“you’re gonna take my cum and keep it in your little cunt for the rest of the day, and if any of it slips out, i might just return everything i bought you. don’t you understand? I’m trying to knock you up so you know who you belong to.”

(and months later, when he’s madly in love with you to the point of no return, begging you to marry him already:) “i’m the one who put that baby in you, i’m the one who loves you, i’m the one who takes care of you so well. and if i have to fuck you every night to prove that i want no one else but you, then i will.”

———

jake loves milfs in the sense that he’s an absolute dog. he’s cleaning pools for the summer while he’s on break from uni, and his clients are all lonely, rich, hot stay-at-home wives. he feels a sick little high just knowing he’s giving good dick to every milf on his roster, knowing that he’s fucking some guy’s wife and giving you orgasms that make you pay him double what he charges. he’s downright nasty, getting his dick sucked on an expensive leather armchair, fucking a beautiful pair of tits that some loser paid for and clearly has no idea how to use. and don’t get him started on when he visits his frat bros on his days off. their moms are fair game for him to fuck, too. he’ll corner you when you’re in the kitchen making apple pie for the boys, mumbling in your ear about how you’re such an angel, groping your ass, telling you to call him if you ever want a creampie instead. you don’t even bother calling him. he’s tiptoeing into your room that night while your son and his other friends are fast asleep.

“what waste of good pussy,” jake spits out, pounding into you from behind. “your husband doesn’t know the first thing about fucking you, because if he did, you wouldn’t be so. fucking. tight.”

“you like that? like taking cock from your pool boy? nasty slut. i bet your pathetic husband would love to know how much you like it sloppy.”

“that’s it, yeah, use me like that fucking dildo i found in your bedside table. feels better than that stupid toy, doesn’t it, baby?”

“what? cum in you? nah, sweets, you’re gonna take my load on that pretty face of yours.”

———

sunghoon loves milfs in the sense that he’s bragging nonstop to his friends about how his girlfriend is a couple years older than him, and he’s basically “preordered a milf”. you might be his TA in one of his classes or his supervisor at work, whatever. either way, while the age gap isn’t so large or even visibly obvious, you don’t like acknowledging it. but when you do, it’s to take charge or to boss him around—and he’s had enough of it. one night, he corners you in your shared apartment, tired of you treating him like he’s a baby. you argue back that he’s your baby, but he’s not having it. “I’m an adult too, you know,” he murmurs in your ear, slotting his knee between your legs while he’s got you pushed up against the door of your bedroom. “let me take care of you, doll. i can show you just how good i can be.”

“my sweet little milf deserves the world, doesn’t she? if only she’d stop being a brat and just let me give it to her.”

“it feels good giving up control to me, doesn’t it?”

“tell me who’s in charge. say it. say my name… louder, baby doll, i can’t hear you. c’mon, let the neighbors know while you’re at it.”

“you’re so beautiful, baby… you deserve to not have to think about shit all the time. don’t you worry your pretty little head. from now on, i’ll handle everything for you… you can relax with me, just focus on how good this cock feels inside of you right now, hm?”

[andraxicated]

No Hard Feelings

Pairing: zayne x f! reader

tags: nsfw | mutual pining? | virgins in love | 69 | protected p in v | big dick zayne (cause he was my man before sylus and we love virgins who hide big packages) | small angst |

a/n: sitting pretty on my drafts since february. i love writing in this format it just lets your ideas flow | zayne is a harvard med alumni free from student debt cause he's rich and we all know it

inspired by one of my fav rom coms no hard feelings i swear its so funny

you are nothing but a broke college student looking for ways to make extra money. so what can you do when your friend shows you a totally suspicious ad?

"we are looking for a girl with experience to seduce our son and help him have a social life. preferably pretty. will be handsomely compensated"

you grab the opportunity after much thought and show up in the sluttiest dress to make sure you fit the 'girl with experience' part despite your v-card being intact.

and you never thought that you'd be sitting in a mansion's living room, listening to a rich mother yap about her worries for her beloved and only son's social life

"you see... it's because i'm deeply worried about our son! we are very proud he's doing well before going to medical school but it's summer and all his peers are going out on vacations, dating, and partying, but he doesn't seem to be interested in any of those since his time at university!"

let's say when you asked what he looked like and turned around to see a picture frame, you were instantly sold onto this 'fuck their son' plan

his parents said their beloved Zayne volunteers at the public park to tend to the flowers. he works under the hot son with his stoic face and meaty arms to which you space out a little.

imagine his surprise when his view got shadowed by your figure, looking up to see the expanse of your thighs, your boobs supported by a push-up bra. this was your best attempt at looking like a vixen

"heyyyy, can I touch your buds?" you giggle (cringing inwardly) and the rest is history.

Zayne didn't know what to fucking say but glare at you.

it was hard to get close to Zayne because that man was a brick wall. he was so reserved and quiet, always so serious despite your attempts at fun time. yet with every time you spent together, his walls break down bit by bit.

and when you saw a crack in his walls, you unknowingly tore it down along with yours.

because you are unexpectedly falling in love with him.

"I thought this was movie night" Both of you remove your tops amidst giggles and short kisses.

"Mhmm, you smell like Jasmines." Zayne pretends not to hear you as he rasps against your ear, kissing your neck as his fingers drag down to tug at your shorts and panty. You whine when he successfully removes it, cold air hitting your inner thighs as he shushes you through small, wet kisses.

"That perfume was on sale, I knew I had to buy it for you" You smile and Zayne mirrors it on his lips, making your heart skip out of your chest. He caresses your hips softly, dangerously inching closer to your core where you're positively throbbing.

"You know me so well. It's as if you were sent by someone for me."

You chuckle awkwardly, letting him trail down light kisses on your neck, all the way to your collarbones. His statement slaps you back to reality. That you were just a girl taking advantage of him and his parents' money. But with each kiss that matches with the beat of your heart, you feel that this acting of yours turned a little too real. You just wanted him between your thighs, lost in your body, drunk on your kisses, and never have him find out the truth.

Zayne looks up at you from an angle, wanting to ask for permission to dive in your pussy, but then he sees you spacing out, and it’s not the cockdrunk look he sees on porn videos. You looked sad and miserable while staring into nothing, he fears he might have bored you to death and he’s too much of a virgin to satisfy you. Zayne looked scared to snap you out of it, he lightly nudged your thigh, and your gaze finally shifted to him. You still haven’t gotten rid of that look yet. 

“Sorry, let’s not do this today if you aren’t feeling well” zayne speaks softly while sitting up, the care evident in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms. 

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “I’m sorry I killed the mood. Are you still hard?” 

“What?”

“I mean, is your dick hard?”

Zayne looks down for a moment and replies, “Yeah…I’m hard”

You giggle and reach over to give him a peck. “Let me suck you off. You’ll feel good, I promise” You say as if you sucked dick before. You were quite nervous to put something in your mouth for the first time, fearing for your throat and untrained gag reflex. Also, Zayne looks pretty big from the way he’s tenting from his shorts, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Your heart was beating from your chest as Zayne sat with his legs on both sides of your body, presenting you with his aching bulge. You tug down his shorts along with his underwear and you see his big cock that he’s been hiding all along. Zayne flushes red on his ears and neck as you stare at his size in awe. The tip was angry and leaking, twitching occasionally as the man before you winced. Its girth was impressively thicker than your wrist and length longer than what you’ve seen in videos, this guy was above average. But before you could try to touch him, Zayne coughs up to get your attention. 

You question him in your eyes and he blushes, struggling to get his words out. 

“I-I want to make you feel good too. Can we try that position?” 

“What position?” 

“...69” 

Zayne bites his lip, looking at your face for any sort of disgust but none came. A smile broke out on your face before you nodded, taking the initiative to adjust your positions accordingly. Zayne was taller than you so you had to be the one on top, your body tensing as you face his leaking cock staring at you. You wanted to put your mouth on it so bad but you knew you had to wait for Zayne to adjust at your bottom. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Zayne huffs out and you involuntarily clench, feeling his hot breath around your hole. You can’t help the heat that travels to your cheeks as you recognize yourself putting your ass up in the air for a man to gape at your hole. You could feel every bone in your body praying not to fuck this up.

“I’ll start,” You say, biting your lip and squinting your eyes before hurriedly starting the job. Your lips come into contact with the tip and Zayne moans, throwing his head back as you try to engulf him in your mouth. He feels you testing how your mouth glides up and down thanks to your saliva as lubricant. Zayne thinks he could burst right then and there in your mouth but he tries to at least save himself some dignity by not finishing through a 20-second blowjob. 

He leans forward and settles his palms on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh experimentally, making you moan at his touches. His lips press outside your pussy, shying away from the main course before steeling himself with the courage of a man. 

Choked moans left your mouth as Zayne suddenly parts your ass for a clear view and dives right in to fuck your hole with his tongue. He laps up like a man starved with eyes closed, executing toe-curling techniques that you didn’t know he could do. 

“Nghh! Mmhphh!” You’re drooling on his dick, taking what you can of his size and pumping what you couldn’t reach. He’s too much of a big fit in your mouth, struggling to hollow your cheeks since most of your wet cavern is occupied by his cock. You could only bob your head up and down, moaning to get him feeling some vibrations, and rubbing your pussy along his lips. 

On the other end, Zayne was having a very much-awaited make-out session with your cunt. He sloppily kisses your hole, circling his tongue as he tastes the softness of the flesh. His hands rubbing your ass in gentle motions causes you to clench and he groans, chasing the movement of your cunt. He does it like the boys do in those videos, he closes his eyes and imagines he’s doing a good job just like them, making their girl scream like it's the end of the world. 

“So pretty” he pulls away mesmerized by your glistening cunt. Zayne couldn’t help but be addicted to your pussy, and he gives it more attention by sucking and playing around with his tongue. To hear your muffled cries sends vibrations down his spine, making him even more hard as your eyes widen. 

You gasp for air as you fix your breathing. You wanted to complain about why he was getting bigger but you just couldn’t stop yourself from sinking deeper onto his cock. You’re positive you looked like a cockhungry slut with dick in her mouth, wiggling her ass as her man eats her out because that’s exactly what you’re doing, you could picture how dirty the position was and it makes you throb, edging you to your release.

No one was saying anything, too occupied with the job at hand as wet noises filled the room. Both of you were pushing each other at the brink of release. Zayne lightly thrusts to chase the feeling of a wet heat—challenging your gag reflex, not knowing it's your first time giving a blowjob. He suddenly hits the back of your throat as cum floods inside your mouth. You’re breathing through your nose, too full of erotic sensations, and you cum following his release. Wet spurts land on Zayne’s face as he drinks up your release, relishing in his first time making a girl cum. 

You pull away from his dick, white semen landing on the bed from your mouth and Zayne’s eyes widen seeing you keeping his release inside your mouth. He thinks you probably didn’t want to swallow it so he grabs tissues, and places them below your chin. 

“Spit it out” 

You look at the tissue on his hand and swallow the cum, wincing as the taste hits you. You just wanted to do it like others do, swallowing because you worked hard for it. Zayne was flabbergasted to even move, his flaccid member unapologetically rising hard when he saw you swallow his seed. 

It made him want to put it inside you. 

“Why did you swallow?” 

You wipe the excess off your face, “I just wanted to try” You hoped he didn’t catch on that it was your first time. Both of you were tired but you wanted to keep going, driven by lust. Zayne was trying to hide his erection and you decided to just get on with it, you wanted him inside right now.

“Zayne, do you want to be on top?” Your question left him surprised. He blinks for a few seconds before nodding and positioning on top of you as you lay down. Then it hits you.

“Wait, do you have a condom?” 

He visibly freezes before reaching over to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer, grabbing a condom, and opening the package. While he puts it on, your eyes drift to the package and you notice the XL size and the ‘super ultra-thin’ inscription. You couldn’t help but be a little nervous after reading that. 

“It’s on,” he says awkwardly, the tip of his ears reddening by the minute. At this moment, the air was thick with nervousness radiating from you and Zayne. You exchange eye contact with him as his palm rests on your hip, drawing circles to coax you and relax your walls. 

“I’m ready, are you?” 

“Yeah,” he kisses your lip to distract you from the pain of your cunt breached open by his thick cockhead. You wince in discomfort, legs shaking as the thickness stops moving. Zayne panics over your pained expression, whispering sweet nothings that it will pass soon because fuck, you are incredibly tight and wet. He almost moans at the sight of your hole struggling to take all of him. 

You look down and let your head fall back onto his soft pillow. “Move”, you let out breathlessly. 

“I’m too big for you, you need to adjust”

“Zayne, just move! Let me adjust when you’re inside me” You whine, wanting to have him inside you as soon as possible. Zayne complies and pushes in slowly, all his worries about med school and sex are completely gone when he buries himself to the hilt. You moan in unison, the stretch being painfully good for your first time.

It was the kind of pain that you’d willingly take because the pleasure was too much to lose out on. He stretches you out nicely, feeling every vein inside you, especially the tip that kisses your g spot. How did he find it in one go?

“You're so tight!—Shit” Zayne picks up on his space, letting his dick rub inside you before starting to thrust full-on. His hips smoothly roll as he pistons his cock in and out of your hole. Your wetness and the condom's lubricant make him move easily inside.

“Ohhh! Zayne!” You jolt towards the headboard as his grunts fill the room, his cockhead repeatedly locking in on your sweet spot, making you clench in response. His hair falls over his face, masquerading on his eyes as his hips put in the work for your pussy. He looks so pretty like that, flushed red, breathless, as he stuffs you repeatedly with his cock.

“Ahhhh, so big~” You could only moan and clench around his member, the movements making your boobs jiggle, and Zayne couldn't help but grope one of them—giving attention to the other by going down on his mouth. You just looked so pretty under him, so messy and good at taking his cock.

“My pretty girl” he huffs while bucking his hips into you.

Then he remembers that you probably had sex before him, and you have experienced other guys. And something deep within him tears its ugly head. Zayne suddenly had a primal urge to claim you, to make sure from now on, you're showing this lewd face to him and only him. 

He was jealous and it wasn't a good feeling.

He pounds his cock faster, pouring all the anger he has into vigor. You scratch his back as Zayne goes feral at a fast pace fucking his cock back into your hole. You thrash in his arms from the pleasure, wanting to run away because the dick was too good. But his strong arms cage you in place as he ruts like an animal in heat. 

His hand suddenly flicks on your clit, pinching the bud to edge you closer to your orgasm. He wanted to make you finish first, to feel your cum coating his length before he releases. 

Your nerves were set on fire just as you think your brain is fried from too much dick. You wanted nothing but to cum and release the knot forming on your lower abdomen. He pumps exactly at a target in a frenzied state, balls swinging against your skin. Zayne continued to grunt, letting out the manliest sounds you've ever heard.

“Z-zayne I'm Cumming—Hahhh!!!” You scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt spasming and dripping around his girth, body shivering from how hard it was. You feel like floating on cloud nine as Zayne leans down to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. 

“That's a good girl. Now take this.” 

His pace gradually falters and he slides in one last powerful thrust before exploding his cum and flooding the condom. You cried out as he did small jerks of his hips to ride out his high while cumming buckets. You fear some cum may have slipped out but you didn't care to voice it out.

Zayne learned that it wasn't good to make you oversensitive so as soon as he finished, he took out his softening cock and watched your abused cunt close. He thinks It might have been his favorite sight.

The night ends with you receiving aftercare, drinking water, and cleaning up in the bathroom to make yourselves clean for bed. You didn't even know Zayne changed the sheets, which explains why he left the tub faster. 

But as you lay in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, there wasn't any semblance of reprieve because of your anxiousness about the arrangement. 

Sooner or later he would find out and everything would come crashing down. You'd go back to your own life, paying expenses thanks to the money you received while Zayne would also go on and continue to med school, fuck a few girls since he already had a taste with a girl who duped him for money. 

Just thinking about that brings tears to your eyes. No, you don't wanna be separated from Zayne. You wanted whatever you had with him despite having no label. 

You tried to tell him the truth a few times but fear got the better of you and you find yourself backtracking, saying something else, and laughing it off. Every moment was precious with Zayne, you couldn't cut his smiles short—it would break your heart to wipe off the soft love on his face. 

So you did nothing but let time run its course.

Zayne soon expressed his want for you to meet his family. He feels like he's known you for a lifetime despite meeting just that summer. So you took his offer and had lunch with his parents who tried their best to act as if they first saw you that day. The food was delicious yet the whole dining experience was painful. You and his parents lying to his face made you unable to stomach the food very well. So you left the house and went to their garden, gazing at the flowers that you knew Zayne himself planted. 

He was looking around for you, sighing since you didn’t tell him where you ran off. He was about to ask his parents in the dining room when he accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Well that was awkward, can you believe our son actually fell in love with her? I mean, she’s pretty skilled”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when we hired her. I think we need to end this arrangement soon. I’ll give her the money before this situation blows up.”

He couldn’t fucking believe it. 

Skilled? Hired? Money? It didn’t take an intelligent man to connect the dots as the conversation went on. Every word that came out of their mouth froze his heart and shattered it like glass. Anger, hurt, and confusion overwhelmed him for the first time in his life. He found it hard to stabilize his breathing. He couldn’t help but let hatred cover his eyes as he stormed into the dining room.  

“Is what you’re saying true? You hired a girl to seduce me?” he demanded, voice shaking with emotion as his parents looked very much terrified to see him there. He didn’t want to believe it was true, but as the seconds went by it was all becoming clear that this was a big fat farce all along. Zayne didn’t know what hurt but he knew he’d been played by the people he loved. And that was all it took for him to break his promise of never raising his voice at his parents. 

“Is it true?!” he roared and to see his mother flinch hurt him but at that moment, Zayne was the victim. 

“Zayne, darling let me explain—”  

“Why?” 

His mother breathed out. “We thought it would be good for you. We wanted to let you have some fun since I feel like you’re constantly buried in books! You need to take some time to socialize too!”

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose as he steeled his mouth in case he said something he could not go back on.

“This conversation isn’t over yet” he uttered coldly, leaving his parents guiltily mulling over their actions.  

Overcome by the need to confront you, he walks in long strides to the garden. He honestly does not know what he wants to hear from you. Apologies? Explanation? He doesn’t know but his feet take him to you and destroy your peaceful moment. 

He sees your figure basking in rays of afternoon sun, checking on the flowers he planted. He stops and stares before storming and grabbing your wrist to make you face him. You meet his face in shock, body tensing from the dangerous aura he was emitting. His hazel eyes were swirling with hurt and you knew it was that time. Zayne knew how much you were playing him like a fool. 

“Is it true?" he pants “That my parents hired you to seduce me for the summer? So that I could get with a girl and have some fun?” 

Tears flowed from your eyes as you nodded shakily, accepting your fate. He was disgusted by how easily you admitted it. Was it that easy for you?  

“I want to hear it from you. Speak before I kick you out” he spat out with so much venom that it wrecked sobs from you. Zayne hated hearing you cry just as he hated how this was such a cruel game you played. 

“Zayne, it was all real. I swear! My feelings are real. It’s true that I accepted a deal with your parents for money but you have to know that I needed it!” You feel like ripping your hair out just to make him believe you. You were so desperate to not be a villain in his eyes. “And what I feel for you is real! I love you and I’m so sorry that I did this to you.” You sobbed, holding your face in your hands as you wiped the overflowing tears that clouded your vision. 

You took a step forward and he took a step back, reflecting the hurt in your eyes. 

“How do I believe you now? How do I know this is still not an act?” 

“I don’t know…” You shook your head, mind at a loss for words. “I just know that it would kill me to be separated from you.”

Zayne could hear the desperation in your voice and it was constantly stabbing at his heart. He longed to believe and touch you, but the pain of deception stung deep. 

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Who are you? Do you have any other name?”

You whip your head in shock, shaking your head frantically. “No! (y/n) is my real name! Everything I told you is real!” 

He stood frozen so you took your chance to explain, fighting the cries that shook your body. 

“I love you. I-I wanted to give my body to the guy I love and it’s you. It was my first time having sex with you! I’m not some vixen who sleeps around. I’m just me!—a college student in need of money. Believe me, I beg you.”

It honestly didn’t matter to him if the girl he loved had his first time with him or not, he loved her regardless. But when you say it like that, he knew that trusting him with your virginity must have meant a great deal to you. That almost made him want to hug you but the rational part of his mind begged him to have some dignity. 

“You broke my trust” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much pain I’m feeling. But I love you…and it would kill me if you weren’t around.”

You take a step forward and grasp his hand to place on top of your heart, making him feel how much it beats for him. 

He’s entranced to feel your racing heart, a testament to your love. This gesture was enough to repair a piece of his shattered heart. 

He uses your interlocked hands to pull you into his arms, burying your face on his chest. You snuggled close as warm tears fell slowly on your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna leave” you cried softly. 

“You’re not leaving until you make me trust you again. And if I trust you again, I won’t let you leave.” 

You nod and ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Zayne cleared his thoughts even if his emotions were a mess. But he was an intelligent and rational man, he was able to think clearly in times of distress and he knew what needed to be done. He knows how you’ll pay for your sins. 

“From now on, I want you to be honest with me. No lies or secrets between us. Tell me everything you feel because I want your full transparency.”   

It was a light sentence and you were eternally grateful to the forgiveness he showed you. Because you'd die if he didn’t.   

“I will. So let’s start on a clean slate please.” you grip his shirt, signaling him your desperation. “I’ll be that girl you met in the park. And you have to believe me when I say I loved you every step of the way. I-I won’t even take the money if it means proving my feelings are real.”

Zayne shook his head as he caressed your hair. ‘Take the money and promise me you won’t leave me. Don’t put yourself in a situation like this just for some money. If you need some, then ask me.”

“What?”

“If you need support I’ll be there to help you in any way I can. All I ask is for you to do the same for me.” 

“Of course I will!” Your voice came out louder than intended and he smiled, yet not like he used to.  

“But you’ll move to Harvard soon for med school? How-how are we going to do this?”

Zayne’s face fell at the mention of his move at the end of his vacation. He hadn’t forgotten but it was a reminder that summer was nearing its end. He had to settle all affairs before treading on a new chapter in his life. 

He sighed, arms still around you. “Long distance isn’t easy, and I don’t know how we’ll do it.” 

Fear crept into you like a snake dampening your mood.    

“But,” he continued with a promising tone. “I’m not giving up on us. I won’t let a little distance come between us. We’ll make it work.”

‘We’ll make it” 

“We will” 

He whispers in your ears, kissing the top of your head, and bathing himself with the love that he receives from you. 

You feared a second chance wouldn’t last long but if anything were the testament to your unbreakable bond with Dr. Zayne, it would be the family photo with you and the kids, standing nicely on his office desk. 

[norrizzandpia]

She Doesn’t Know Who I Am (LN4)

Summary: Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.

Warnings: nothing really, the vaguest inference to alcohol consumption? If that, man, but lmk if i missed any ofc

Lando was always weary of the United States. From the intrusive people to the crazed, horrific politics, he always tried to stay away. However, once a year, or season, he had an obligation to make an appearance in one of the fifty maniacal states. This year, the region in which would be graced with his chaotic presence was that of New York.

Y/n was the typical college student, ruthless and stupid as she went through her days at NYU. Crazy parties and a lack of sleep filled her days as she struggled to get through her second to last year in school. While part of her hated the way New York operated and how unsafe she felt, there was nothing like the beauty of the city. Her whole life had been spent in a small town where she felt trapped and alone, but in the big city, she felt a part of something, almost as if she was finally contributing to something. What she was contributing to, she didn’t know, but, in her mind, that didn’t really matter.

What did matter, however, was her friends dragging her out of bed and forcing her to go out with them whilst on two hours of sleep.

“I can get bagels literally any day. Please,” She put her hands in prayer as she pleaded with her best friend, “Paige, let me go back to bed.”

Paige looked back at her as if she had grown three heads, “No way. You go back to bed now, you’ll sleep all day and then be screwed up tomorrow. Then, you’ll complain about your sleep schedule being off and get mad at me for not waking you up. This is a much easier Y/n to deal with, thank you very much.”

Her response seemed to shut Y/n up as she hung her head low and trotted behind her brunette friend.

—

The walk to the bagel place had been longer than usual as they ran into George, a homeless man who lived at the end of their street and they had come to love. He had been there since the moment they moved in, coming and going as he moved to different places to sleep. After a few years of becoming friends with him, they learned he was a veteran who came back with severe PTSD, and, in turn, had to deal with tumultuous debts for his tries to stop the depressing spiral. While he had successfully gotten over the painful flashbacks, he never came back from the money he owned, the main reason why he ended up on the streets. The girls had found sympathy for the man and whenever he was there, sitting at the end of their block, they gave him fifty dollars each, whether they were struggling with their own financial burdens or not.

His smile had sent them into the rest of their breakfast with happier attitudes as Y/n’s annoyance for being conscious disappeared. However, they returned for the entire duration they spent waiting in the long line in the cramped, stuffy deli. Nonetheless, once she had scarfed down her bagel sandwich and chugged some water, she found life to be much lighter.

—

Lando, on the other hand, had been wandering around Central Park aimlessly with Max and a few other McLaren PR employees. The group had been out shooting content for both the racing company and his own company, Quadrant. Checking out different sights and throwing middle fingers up when they crossed the Trump building, the two boys found themselves having lots of fun in the country they thought so little of.

“Maybe this shit isn’t that bad?” Max chuckled as they stared at the lake that stretched across the park, a piano sounding lightly behind them from a street performer.

Lando nodded, liking the way no one was recognizing him and he could just be, “Yeah, maybe it’s just the politics that dampens the whole thing.”

—

“I’ll seriously never get over how stunning it is in here,” Y/n whispered as she and Paige strolled through a particularly secluded area of Central Park.

“Mhm, me neither.” Paige smiled as the two girls cherished the moment together.

Y/n turned her head to catch the brunette’s brown eyes, “Ever think about what would have happened if we never met?”

Paige pulled a look, “Absolutely not. That sounds like hell.”

“You’re not wrong.” Y/n laughed, “But, seriously, like, how would we even be surviving right n-”

Her abrupt stop to her sentence had Paige turning to look at the girl. With Y/n’s jaw dropped and cheeks ablaze, she followed her best friend’s eyeline, stumbling upon two boys who looked about the same age as them.

“Wow.” Y/n said aloud as she stared, mesmerized, at the man.

“Which one are you looking at?” Paige tried to decipher.

“Brown curls,” Y/n responded immediately, allowing her best friend to finally hone in on the boy of her friend’s choosing.

Paige smiled softly as she pictured Y/n with the boy standing in front of them, a cute couple they would be.

“He’s cute. Go ask for his number!” Paige said excitedly as she pushed Y/n in the direction of the particularly striking young man.

Y/n instantly paled, “What?! No way! Absolutely not!”

“Why?! Y/n, you literally haven’t dated anyone since freshman year. Come on, you’ll never even see him again if he rejects you. Please? For me, at least?” Paige pleaded, giving her best friend a look that she couldn’t turn away.

Huffing, Y/n began walking away, muttering, “The things I do for you.”

—

Y/n first caught Lando’s eye in his peripheral. The quick flash of y/h/c had him turning around to quickly glance at the newfound presence.

He almost lost his footing at the sight of her.

Black leggings and a sweatshirt never looked so good on someone as she approached him. His eyes were followed by Max, the boy laughing at a Lando who was clearly very taken by the girl coming up to them.

“If she asks to take a picture, I’m going to be so devastated,” Lando whispered as she smiled at them, the sight making him want to melt to the ground and beg her to go out with him.

It dawned on him that he didn’t even know her name yet, but that was a passing thought as she came to stop in front of him.

“Hi,” She stared up at him, clearly nervous, “My friend is forcing me to do this, so don’t think I’m doing this willingly.”

Her next few words Lando was already preparing himself for. Either her sentence could send him into a euphoric orbit or she could crush his dreams by being a fan.

She took a deep breath, Lando smiling at her cute demeanor, before she continued, “I just thought you were really cute and thought that, maybe, I could get your number? My name’s Y/n, by the way.”

Max was quick to jump infront of his lovestruck friend, not trusting the girl’s intentions.

“Sorry, he doesn’t give out his number.” He shot out, Y/n grimacing as she took in the embarrassment.

“Is he a celebrity or something?” She tried to recover with jokes, but it just made the faces of the two boys pale more.

The one that she liked, the one with the soft curls, stepped in front of his friend as he shook his head, “No, no. He’s just overprotective,” He sent his friend a threatening gaze, “I’m Lando and I would love to give you my number.”

Y/n was too caught up in the meaning behind Lando’s look to catch the way he was staring down at her, brown eyes big and round as he shot her a toothy grin. Their eyes met, and she flushed under his stare.

Tucking some hair behind her ear, she quickly got out her phone, “Oh, cool! Here you go.”

Lando’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed in his work phone number, not his personal. While he wanted to trust in her cluelessness, he couldn’t be that reckless.

Sliding her phone back to her in a way that allowed for their fingers to brush against each other, Y/n beamed triumphantly, something Lando knew he was going to grow to love.

She stood there for a few moments before nodding her head and beginning her walk back to her friend, “I’ll call you soon. We’ll figure something out.”

Lando nodded eagerly at her, a sign that he liked her just as much as she liked him. When her figure was a dot in the distance, Max turned to him and smacked him on the chest, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!? You can’t just shovel out your number like that! That was way too dangerous, Lando.”

His stern lecture had Lando rolling his eyes, “Max, two things. 1) I gave her my work phone, and 2) I’m willing to bet my seat in McLaren that she has no clue who I am.”

His best friend shifted on his feet as he looked at him, “You really think so?”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen fans try to play it cool, and even then, when they outwardly say they know my favorite flavor of ice cream, I can tell they’re freaking out on the inside. Her nerves seemed more to be the type of just asking a random stranger out rather than meeting her idolized driver.”

Max shook his head, “If you insist.”

—

Paige smiled proudly at her best friend as they began making their way out of the park, “So, what was his name anyway?”

Y/n thought hard for a moment before guessing, “Land? Lanyard? Something like that. I can’t remember. I was too caught up in his biceps to comprehend anything he was saying to me. I just hope he isn’t a murderer.”

NOTE: lmk if you guys want me to make a part 2 to this where they go out on a few dates and a month in or so she finds out or he tells her (something roughly like that)

[green-alien-turdz]

Hi, hello, I'm one more minute away from bashing my head into a wall. I know people showed some interest before, so I'm thinking of opening emergency commissions.

Bullshit n more under the cut vv

So on Friday my gma had a health emergency. She almost died. I got up to Washington immediately to be with her n it was super fuckin bad. We genuinely weren't sure if she was gonna make it. She had let it get so bad bcuz she not only couldn't afford to go to the doctors, but she was also embarrassed of some swelling in her legs. I can't even begin to list how much shit they had to take care of once she got into the ER. She then went to ICU, then PCU, and is soon to be moved to a normal room (but she's still not good). She's gonna have to go into a rehab for at least a month to get mobile enough to where I can handle it. I have no clue how we are gonna pay. The amount of medical debt we are gonna be in is fuckin insane. Her medicare might cover some, imma have to see what we can do.

She also takes care of my cousin. So I had to quit both of my jobs and I'm movin up to tacoma for the next few months so I can take care of my cousin and my gma when she's outta rehab.

The reason I need to open commissions is bcuz I legit can't get an actual job up here. My cousin will need me there morning and night- luckily school is startin up next week. Then my gma will need me to take care of her when she's back. I don't know when she's gonna be better. There's even a fuckin chance she WON'T recover, which us my worst fuckin fear. I gotta leave my life behind n just take care of family for a while. My gma raised me, so it's the least I can do.

I have some saved up that I was gonna use to move out, but imma have to use it to take care of my gma n cousin- so I was hopin to do somethin like commissions to get at least some cash comin in. I take up random gigs offa craigslist when I can, but I can't do much durin the day until school starts up n I'll have the afternoons to work.

If anyone is interested in commissions, could you leave a comment sayin which application/programs are best payment wise? I feel gross doin this. Ion know, it feels like beggin, I hate recievin money from shit other than work, but I gotta do somethin. Just let me know what works easiest for people so I know what I need to set up. If anyone is interested- if not, I totally get it. If there's enough intrigue, I'll make a post talkin about what commissions I'll offer.

Uhhh yeah, I'll be back soon or some shit.

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Good Luck Charm - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

This is the first story I've posted, but I have other ideas if you guys want more. Writing has become a new outlet for me so I appreciate any constructive criticism or any thoughts you may have. Carmy is such a fun character to write for and my own personal brain rot atm. I hope to do more in the future. I also like to listen to music while I write and I feel like Again by Still Woozy goes well with this one.<3

TW: Idk honestly. Mentions of dead brothers, debt, and a heated makeout?

"You think if you scrub any harder you'll put a hole in the floor?" 

He stood quickly. Startled by your presence in the kitchen. "What are you still doing here? Thought you left like an hour ago." 

"Well, I was gonna, but then I feared if I left without you you'd still be here when I come in for my shift tomorrow.” You took a few small steps forward. As if you were worried you'd scare him off. There always seemed to be this air around you two. One that was hard to ignore in the times you had spent alone together. “Then I thought you could use some time to wind down before I attempt to push you out the door so I tried to see if I could make any progress on Mikey's paperwork." 

"Did you?" Tossing the rag into the container and moving his hands to his hips. 

"I think that would depend on your definition of progress"

"Yeah, well I haven't exactly been able to figure that shit out either." 

"We'll figure it out, Carm."

He sighed and looked around the kitchen. "I've just got a couple more-" 

"Nope." You take strides across the kitchen to get to him. "Those couple things will turn into another couple things until you've managed to work yourself into an early grave from exhaustion. I mean you're a head chef and you frequently forget to eat. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke." You laugh, trying to reach for the keys to the restaurant. Only for him to snatch them off the counter and out of arms reach. "Carmy-" 

"Nice try" He moved them out of reach again. 

"Will you just-" You attempt to reach for them again as he manages to move them further from you.

“Oooh, you were so close that time.” Leaning against the counter, he barks out a laugh. Probably a product of the years he had spent smoking. 

“Cut it out. C’mon.” You said shyly ducking your head a bit. 

“Sorry, just enjoyin’ this way too much.'' He covered his mouth with his hand to hide his growing grin. There was something about you that he found so comfortable. He wonders if that's the reason he finds himself being so bold in this moment. 

Leaning to the side, you prop yourself against the counter next to him. Settling in and resigning to the fact that he is not going to make getting him out the door easy for you. “You were one of those guys in high school, weren't you?” Narrowing your eyes a bit. 

“An’ what kinda guy would that be?” He challenged.

“Y'know- The guy. Mr. Fuckin’ Popular. Had the girls lining up for you. Always good for a laugh.” Your teasing tone let him know that you weren't all that upset at him poking fun at you. 

“Think the only laugh I'd be good for is if you knew how wrong you were.” 

“Bullshit.” You shot back, shaking your head. 

“No, really. I uh- pretty much stuck to myself. Just hung around Mikey and Richie. The family mostly. Was too fuckin’ awkward to make my own friends. Had this stutter too. Didn't really bother talkin’ to anyone if I didn't have to.” This time he ducked his head. Scratching the back of it like he was embarrassed to admit it.

“Well, you don't seem to have a problem talking to me.” 

He shrugged. “It's different. Different time too.”

Your eyes met for a moment as you both took a pause. “I think we would have been good friends.” 

“Bullshit. You wouldn't have even noticed me.”

“I would have noticed you.” You affirmed with such conviction he almost believed it.

Looking at you now he imagines that if you had met then his life would look very different. He wouldn't have been a couple hundred grand in the hole with a sandwich shop he only had because his brother killed himself. You would have been there for all of it.

Chicago, Paris, Copenhagen, New York. Every destination and every major moment.

You would have been together. 

If he really indulges himself, he thinks maybe even with a kid on the way. Of all the what-ifs that came to mind, there was only one thing he knew for sure.

You were the real deal.

He allows himself to stay in this bubble with you and before he can think about any consequences he responds. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. Nodding your head as you both start to lean closer.

Timedly you take your time to meet in the middle. Each gives the other an opportunity to back out, but neither of you takes it. Once your lips touched it felt like a shock to his system. You'd usually been so soft, almost cautious in your dealings with him. 

But this was not that.

You pressed yourself against him. Kissing him fiercely and with so much need he was worried that if he tried to open his eyes it would have all been a dream. Another cruel joke his mind had played on him only to wake up alone. Reminding him of all the things he never felt he could have.

Your hands card up into his hair, tugging at the stands. He lets out a deep groan as he switches positions to place you between himself and the counter.

He realizes now how much of a habit it is for you to look out for him. While everyone took the first chance they got to go home, you stayed behind to make sure he would get rest. Then, you took that extra time to try and figure out the clusterfuck of paperwork sitting on his desk.

You show no signs of discomfort as his hands begin to trail your body. Pushing you further against the counter to get as close to you as physically possible. He almost thought he could feel your heart pounding as your chest pressed against his, but knew it was more likely that it was his own. So caught up in you that every detail of this moment felt fuzzy and distorted.

So caught up he didn't realize you started grinding against each other.

One hand cupped around the back of your neck to keep you in place. The other moved down to your ass to aid your movement as you hooked a leg over his hip. His chest burned and heaved. Breath heavy from being cut off from oxygen for so long, but not wanting to break the moment. He wanted to give you something to remember. Not screaming during lunch rush or getting into a fistfight with a guy in a fuckin’ carrot costume.

Something good.

There weren't many times in his life he felt particularly lucky, but when he moved his head down to mouth at your neck. He'd never felt so lucky in his life.

Your head tipped back, letting out a chocked sigh. Followed by the ‘uh, uh, uh’ perfectly timed with the movement of your hips against his growing length. Gripping a hand on the back of his shirt to keep him in place. He imagines that this is the closest he will get to redemption, to happiness, after having spent years in the hellscape that was the New York kitchen. 

When he tried to lift you on the counter the large metal mixing bowl sitting to the side of you came crashing to the ground. The loud reverberation causes you to break away from each other. Effectively bursting the blissfully passionate bubble. 

Your hand moved to your neck where his mouth had been. Almost certain there would be marks left behind to remind you of this moment for days to come. As you both tried to regulate your breathing Carmy couldn't help staring. Opening his mouth like he had something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite articulate what that thing was. You slide off the counter and attempt to straighten your clothes while keeping your eyes on the floor. You always had a hard time meeting his gaze when he looked at you like that. Like if he looked hard enough he might find something that wasn't there before. 

“It's probably a good thing we got interrupted. Things were getting kinda heated.” You forced a chuckle. 

Shit.

This was it.

You're about to tell him this was all a mistake. A heat of the moment thing that you got caught up in and you now regret. As quickly as he had you, he was gonna lose you. Another goddamn shoe was gonna drop. “No, y-yeah. I don’ want you to think-”

Your gaze returned to him. “I think if we took this any further we'd be violating about a dozen health codes after you were just on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor.”  

“I could get on my hands and knees again.” He let out, slightly dazed. Running a hand through his hair in an attempt to ground himself. 

“Jesus- Carmy.” you laugh, not knowing how else to respond. Sliding your hands down your face as it heats up in a heavy blush. 

“I-I didn't mean it like that.” But now he’s definitely thinking it.

He also thinks, rather darkly, that he's never been happier not to have an HR department. 

Truthfully, he didn't know what he meant by the comment. He just knew he wanted you and you didn't seem opposed to the idea. You haven't run away yet and that alone is enough to quiet the spiral he normally defaults to in moments of uncertainty. He had doubted himself a lot in his life, but he was sure with the way you kissed him that you wanted him the way he wanted you. “We've had a long night. Walk ya’ home?” 

“Maybe you could come up? I know for a fact you haven't eaten. I may not be award-winning, but I'm sure I could manage something edible.” The smile on your face grows slightly at the prospect.

“Yeah, that's uh- that sounds good. Let's grab our stuff and we’ll head out.” Hand grazing your lower back as he moved to guide you to the lockers.

He wonders if, for the first time in a long time, his luck has turned around.

[hannie-dul-set]

모기 / MOGI — [c.bg].

SYNOPSIS. in which all of your life, you and beomgyu have been stuck together like glue whether you liked it or not. and as much as you want to change that, life seems to have different plans.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment), romance, humor, very light-barely there angst, pining idiots, college! au with flashes to high school, featuring an ensemble of 01z idols. WARNINGS. swearing, many many (fake) death threats, so much secondhand embarrassment, mentions of sex, mentions of blood and gore, the worldly problems of a teenager, mc has anger issues, gossip. WORD COUNT. 14k.

TAGLIST. @matcha-binz @bgomtori @lotties-posts @bearbeom @bbinwrld @beomies-world @baekberrie @20-cms @jenodreamer

NOTE. it is here! alternatively titled: all the reasons you don't like choi beomgyu (but maybe you do). this is just a v quick v fun read (i hope HAHHAHA). parts in past tense and within parenthesis are set in the past! hope you enjoy mosquito gyu and please let me know what you think! begging for crumbs of feedback plspls.

YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. He’s been a thorn in your side for as long as you can remember— a far too nimble mosquito for you to catch and swat away, constantly buzzing around your ears like a mild annoyance. Mild, but annoying all the same.

The problem is, you can’t get rid of him. Not when both your families have been friends before either of you were even born. Not when you’ve been half-living in his house for the better part of your life and he’s been half-living in yours. Not when you’ve always been magically assigned to the same class for twelve god damned years and somehow, you’re now even set out to go to the same university.

It’s like the world just wants to stick the both of you together.

“Hey, fuckface.”

“What do you want, dipshit?”

Unfortunately for the world, you don’t want the same thing.

“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”

Beomgyu lets out a grunt upon hearing your question at the same time as he drops down to the ground with a thunk on the playground seesaw. “Right. That happened.” It’s late at night, the streetlights are dimming, and it’s a week before high school graduation. Not the most appropriate time to be playing around the kid-sized rides tucked in the corner of your apartment complex, but things have been penting up, and there currently seems to be no better way to deal with your physical and emotional exhaustion than by being sprung up to the air, down, and back up again.

“You also said— whoa!” You glue your feet firmly to the chalky ground before dangling your legs up once more. “You also said you’d do anything I ask after saving your ass. I’m here to collect your debt.”

The next instance, you aren’t see’d or saw’d back up. Beomgyu stays grounded, looking at with an expression you can only describe as oozing of suspicion. It is weird, you have to admit, bringing up a spur of a moment promise he made three years ago, possibly under the influence of anesthetics. You’d be suspicious of yourself, too. “Alright,” he relents after a long moment of thought. Beomgyu leans forward, resting his arms over the seesaw handle and burying his chin into his sleeves. “Spit it out. What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.”

You press your lips together. “It’s not something you can buy.”

Now, that definitely doesn’t help your case. Your crypticness is causing his brows to furrow, and Beomgyu is deep in thought wondering what the hell kind of favor your fucked up head is thinking of (especially after the shrimp incident). You can save him from misery and just spit it out right then and there, but it’s not easy for you to pull out of your mouth either. Once this night is over, your throat will be littered with sores and cuts and it’ll all be self inflicted.

“Wait.” Beomgyu suddenly jolts up and sits straight, causing the seesaw to wobble a little. His ears are peeking out the mess of his hair. It’s already way past the school policy length— a privilege of a graduating student, he says. And despite the shadowed sky cloaking the playground lot, you can clearly see the tinge of red painting the thin skin. What is he thinking? you narrow your eyes at him. The blush has spread all over his neck. "You—you—you’re not trying to ask—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, sparing him from an aneurysm. “We’re starting college next month, right?”

His expression tells you he’s completely missed the mark. “Yeah...?” he sounds out, confusion riddled in his tongue. You bite down yours— an early repentance before finally throwing it out in the air.

“Can you do me a favor?” you squeak out. “Can you pretend like you don’t know me?”

Quiet washes over. You preemptively wince, expecting the impending torrent of swear words from your friend, but he doesn’t say anything. He says nothing for a long while, filling the quiet with tension-filled agony before finally saying, “I don’t understand.”

You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“What are you saying?”

There are uneasy creaks on the hinges of the seesaw set, as if it’s unsure whether to go up or down. The scent of iron seeps into your palms with how tightly you’re holding the handle. “Please pretend like we aren’t friends when we enter university,” you inhale sharply. “Better yet, act like you don’t know me at all, okay? Treat me like I was a ghost and I’ll do the same with you.” 

You don’t have the guts to look Beomgyu in the eye. You train your eyes to the graveled ground and hold in your breath, listening as the creaks of the rusty hinges slowly come to a still. He’s not saying anything. He isn’t saying anything and you’re starting to grow scared.

The seesaw finally stops rocking, and you finally hear Beomgyu’s response—

“Fine.”

—all while your ass gets dropped to the ground with an even louder thunk when Beomgyu gets off the damned thing. You let out a yelp as your body gets jerked back by the sudden recoil. 

“Hey!” you yell out, stumbling to get off the seesaw in a panic because he’s starting to walk. “Choi Beomgyu— wait up!”

“What?” he snaps his head back, and you flinch. He doesn’t look great. He doesn’t look happy at all. Guilt overhauls your entire being with a single, ringing punch and your tongue is weighed down by sand and soot and it’s difficult to swallow without the threat of choking. “I thought you wanted me to pretend like I don’t know you?”

You frown. “I did, but I didn’t mean it to be—”

Words fail when he turns his back to you once again. You can’t say anything. You can’t bring it in you to justify yourself. You can’t even find the shame to call him back. So all you can do is watch as Beomgyu slowly disappears into the evening, leaving behind more things in the playground than just you.

It’s fine, you inhale sharply. You can give him some space tonight and just talk it out on the way to school tomorrow. And it’s not like you didn’t expect him to be mad at you. It just hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” you yell at his disappearing figure.

It stings, sure. But still. It’s something you feel like you need to do, because you don’t like Choi Beomgyu, and all the things he’s cost you.

#1: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. You’re pretty sure at least three years of your lifespan has wilted away into nothingness because of how long it takes for him to answer the door. It takes two rounds of incessant knocking and a yell of his name. Even then, his mom is more likely to answer than the fucker himself.

He’s been like that ever since. Though you can’t exactly pinpoint when that ever since begins— you can’t remember how you met him because his stupid face has always been present in all of your earliest memories.

(Knock, knock, knock!

“Choi Beomgyu!”

Knock, knock, knock!

“Open the door!”

Classes ended early today, and your teachers at the academy are having a seminar so you don’t have to go there today. This was a rare opportunity in your life as a middle schooler— where every day runs from waking up, to eating, to studying, to eating, to studying again, studying some more, and wanting to quit studying. Today you had free time, and you’re going to spend it wisely.

At least that was the plan. But then Beomgyu called your landline while you were watching TV, saying that he had “something super, duper, insanely cool to show you and you’ll regret it if you don’t come over.” 

It’s probably something lame.

You hurried over to the unit right across yours.

But like usual, it took a good five minutes until you heard Beomgyu’s hurried footsteps padding louder and closer and closer. He didn’t give you an opportunity to be annoyed by him— he quickly tugged you into his home and shut the door lock with a kick, running into and out of the living room like it was a racing track, and before you knew it, you were in his room and he was all giddy and excited and it served as a sign that he was up to no good.

“You’re being suspicious,” you leered at him as he dug through his school bag, already taking the liberty to plop down on his bed. “What’s that?”

There was a proud grin on his face when he pulled it out and showed it off to you. You weren’t as impressed. In fact, you were terrified. 

Specifically because of the 18+ label on the CD container he’s holding.

“Why do you have that?!” you screeched. “Holy crap. You idiot. Are you trying to get us into trouble?!”

“We won’t get in trouble as long as you stop freaking out like a little wuss,” he reasoned, already slotting the forbidden CD into his conveniently placed laptop right at the foot of the bed.

Your houses shared an internet line, and most websites have been blocked as per both your parents’ request so it “doesn’t get in the way of your studying,” they say. You thought it was crap. Beomgyu thought  it was crap. So you’d been trying to find ways to subvert that restriction by whatever means you can get your hands on (i.e. going to PC rooms and getting dragged back home by your parents).

But that didn’t mean you were fine with watching a movie you legally weren’t allowed to watch.

This was absurd.

“Yeonjun hyung lent it to me. Hey, stop overreacting. You said you wanted to watch this and wouldn’t quit whining about it the past two weeks. I’m doing you a favor!”

“We’re not allowed to watch this! If our parents find out, they’re gonna—” You made the mistake of letting your eyes wander to the laptop screen. It’s all blood and guts and gore from the very beginning. You were taken. “Whoa. Move over.”

Beomgyu was grinning at his success. The equally bloody CD container found itself tucked underneath his bed, and before you knew it you were both hiding under the blankets, sharing a pair of earphones because there’s too much screaming and squelching from the off-brand slasher film your friend smuggled from a sketchy high schooler. Maybe that was just the right amount of screaming. You wouldn’t know. You’ve never watched anything like this before.)

To be frank, you don’t remember much about the film. You do remember nearly pissing yourself in fear and screaming along to the cries of agony whenever someone was killed on screen. Beomgyu was unfazed though— that freak. How was he not pissing himself when a severed limb flew into the frame?

But he wasn’t as calm when his brother came home early, and your constant screams of terror elicited understandable concern. (“Shut up! You’re going to get us caught,” he hissed, trying to smack his palm over your mouth but you’re already burying your face into his comforter and blindly shoving him off).

Long story short, you both got caught and got grounded for a week.

So much for having free time.

“Congrats on finishing your last exam!”

You grunt, shoving past Heeseung as you exit the classroom, a stack of scratch papers pressed to your chest. He trails behind you with an evident bounce in his step. You’d be just as excited had you not been brutally murdered by midterms week. It’s only your third month of university and you’re already ready to drop out. Why is this normalized? This is structural, systemic violence.

“Jieun and the rest are planning a night out tomorrow,” he mentions. “You coming?”

“No. I’m going to sleep for forty-eight hours and die.”

He tells you you’re no fun and you flip him off. Three months have passed and you feel like you’ve aged thirty years, but Heeseung is still fucking energetic and you’re sure it’s because the girl from computer science he’d been flirting with for the past two weeks finally agreed to go on a date with him. The stupid grin on his face as he’s typing on his phone is annoying you to no end. “What?” he asks, looking up from his phone, still all smiley and irksome. 

“You’re insufferable,” you deadpan. His expression morphs into confusion, then realization, then pity, then circles back into being incredibly annoying again. 

“If you beg, I can set you up with one of my friends.”

“Eat ass.” 

You smack the top of his head with the stack of papers. He is unfazed. “I know a few guys! C’mon! Instead of being bitter, why don’t I help you out? I don’t do this for everyone, you know. I’m only offering because you’re my friend.”

Well, the past three months haven’t been entirely bad. Your freshman batch was fairly easy to get along with— Heeseung specifically, whom you hit off with during the orientation. You’ve also been doing pretty well with all of your classes despite the back-breaking workload. And now that midterms are over, your uni has this policy to cancel classes for a whole week after every major exam (for the students’ “mental health” they say), so now you have the chance to finally fucking rest.

“Beomgyu!”

You flinch upon hearing Heeseung yell out his name. You can’t get used to it.

The space next to you becomes empty as Heeseung excuses himself for a moment to join Beomgyu and the little group he’s appeared with. You take the opportunity to shove the scratch papers you have into your bag, taking a few glimpses here and there— regretting doing that when Beomgyu happens to meet your gaze at one point, and you quickly avert your eyes to the posters on bulletin boards stuck on the hallway wall. E-Sports Fest 2023. Sign up for your respective departments now! 

“Later,” Heeseung waves them off and runs back to you. “Hey. We’re fucked. Beomgyu’s playing in like half of the games next, next week. The ICT fuckers have practically won already. This is too much of a skill gap. This isn’t fair.”

You give him a look. “Okay?”

Heeseung pouts. “At least pretend like you’re interested. Jeongin said yes, but I still have to get Chenle onboard so we can at least get second place, but he says he doesn’t wanna waste our short break so— hey, are you listening?”

No, you’re not. Because you met eyes with Choi Beomgyu once more before he left with his friends, and even if it’s been three months since you’ve last talked to him, there’s still a weird feeling in your gut every time you happen to cross paths.

It’s been easy for him to keep his promise. The both of you have different majors, and though you two share a few mutual friends, Heeseung doesn’t know shit about your history, and nobody seems to suspect anything. 

Still. You can’t completely avoid him. Not when you two are literally still neighbors. 

The both of you moved out since your campus is a two hour commute from your homes, but you also moved into the same apartment building in the city as per your parents’ request. (“Now, I’m more at ease knowing you’re still living next to her, Beomgyu,” your mother remarked the day his dad drove you both to your new building). Your mom didn’t know how not at ease you are with him still floating around you with a seeming permanence, especially after what happened in the playground that night. 

“Anyway, I have to go,” Heeseung tells you, probably off to meet the compsci girl he refuses to tell you the name and identity of. You fear she may be one of your friends. “How about you?”

“Off to have lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong,” you hum. “Have fun. Don’t come crying to me when you eventually get your heart broken.”

“You’re just bitter. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a date to save you from your misery.”

“Go to hell.”

“See you.”

The both of you part ways, and you meet up with the aforementioned two at the campus cafeteria because fast food is outside of your budget after splurging all your allowance on caffeine and energy drinks this week. Your two friends seem to have also been hard fucked by midterms. Lunch was filled with quiet complaints and you immediately took the first bus home after eating.

“You stopped by?” you speak into your phone, wedging the device between your cheek and shoulder as you punch in the code to your unit’s door. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve come home earlier.”

“It’s alright. I just left you some side dishes for the week. They’re in the fridge. Who knows what kind of junk you’re putting into your body without me on the watch.”

“I am eating perfectly well!” you exclaim, shutting your door with a click. You love your mom and her food but she’s as protective as ever. “I just got home. I’ll send photo evidence of me enjoying your kimchi, madam.”

You hear her laugh a little at the end of the line, and you hum out a smile. “I’m hanging up. You must be tired so get some rest.”

“Yeah, alright.” Upon entering the living room, you can see the familiar, reusable blue shopping bag on the open kitchen counter, its unreasonably gigantic size taking up too much of the space. You narrow your eyes and walk towards it. When you take a peek inside, there are still full containers and tupperwares. The rolled omelets look particularly good. “I thought you put them in the fridge,” you say. Without waiting for your mother’s response, you’ve already produced a pair of chopsticks and have pried a box open, stuffing a roll inside your mouth.

“Oh, those are for Beomgyu.” 

The eggs suddenly taste like sand.

“He mentioned on call last time that he was missing some of my home cooked dishes. Why haven’t you been sharing with him? Greedy child. Anyway, drop them off at his place later when he gets back. He wasn’t around when I visited earlier. Okay?”

First of all, why does your mother keep calling Choi Beomgyu behind your back? Second of all, the guilt of eating what is supposed to be Beomgyu’s food shot your appetite back down into oblivion, so you quickly close the container and stuff it back into the bag in a zip. “Okay. I’ll do that.” You throw the chopsticks into the sink. He isn’t gonna notice that one omelet is missing, right?” “Bye.”

“Come back home during your break.”

Then again. Why do you have to waste this perfectly good food on a guy like him?

The line ends. You fall to the floor with an anguished cry. “Ugh,” you groan, forehead hitting the counter body a few too many times that a bruise could form. “The bastard might snitch on me if I don’t do it. Fuck. Fine.”

You feel like a reanimated corpse when you force yourself back on your feet, a series of grunts as you begrudgingly lug the large bag of side dishes that won’t even end up in your stomach. This is fine, you exhale. You can do this. You’re gonna knock on the door, throw the bag to his face, and say goodbye without talking. This is fine. This is easy. 

But with Beomgyu, it’s never easy. The simplicity of the act ends after you’ve left your unit. What came after was the short, dreadful walk across the hallway because shit— in the past three months you’ve moved here, you have never actually gone up to his door. 

Knock, knock, knock.

No answer.

Knock, knock, knock.

Still no answer. This bastard never fucking grows.

“Choi Beomgyu!” Your light knocks quickly transition to a heavy banging. “Choi Beomgyu, open up—”

There’s a click and a creak. Your knuckles don’t land on the familiar hardwood— they land on his chest because the momentum made you keep knocking even after he’d opened the door. “Oh,” he flatly starts. A brow raised and arms crossed, he leans against the door frame and looks at you like you’re an unwelcome guest. “What do we have here?”

He’s insufferable. He’s totally insufferable.

“Who are you again?”

“Cut the crap, Beomgyu,” you grunt, absolutely not in the mood for this. You know that it’s a pretty shitty thing for you to ask him to pretend to be strangers. You really do, so you didn’t hold it against him for being mad at you at first. He’s been doing his end, sure, but you don’t remember him acting like a big fucking bitch to you in private as a part of the deal. 

You thought his anger would subside after three days. It’s been three months and at this point you’re convinced that this relationship is now irreparable, and neither of you are making the effort to resuscitate it. “You’re the one who came to my door. Why are you swearing at me?” he huffs. You grit your teeth, shoving the bag to him and his act of arrogance falters from surprise. You don’t miss how his eyes widen and how his scrunched up brows suddenly disappear under the messy bangs he’s decided to grow out.

“Here. I’ll take back the containers next week. Make sure you’ve washed them by then. Goodbye.”

That, in fact, wasn’t a good bye because you stomp back into your unit without giving him a second look. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit it all. The door is cold against your back when you retreat inside. You hate him. You really do. This would’ve been easier if your lives weren’t so irrevocably tangled— messed up in all sorts of knots and ties that even a fucking boyscout can’t tear it apart. 

You left your phone on the counter when you left and you can see it buzzing and lighting up. There’s a few messages. Hi, dear. How have you been? It’s from his mother. There is no escape to this. Absolutely none.

#2: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Somehow, he’s always there at the lowest points of your life— moments where you wouldn’t even want any of your family to see you, but he’s there. He always is, and you’d always wish to evaporate along with the rain. 

Maybe he has a signal whenever you’re on the verge of doing something stupid. Or losing face. Or being absolutely dumped. Or all of the above at the same time. Maybe he’s there on purpose so he can have one more thing on his belt of things to hold against you.

(“I like you.”

The words squeezed out of your throat like a choke, more than anything. Maybe it was because of the fact that you sounded so pathetic that Jiwoong couldn’t even reject you properly. Maybe if he were to be frank, he was afraid that you’d end up crying.

“Um, there’s...there’s somewhere I have to be for a moment. You don’t mind waiting for a bit, right?”

But it wasn’t you that ended up in tears. It was the sky. You weren’t sure how long you’d been waiting, frozen still in an abandoned corner behind the school where your pink-stained note had asked him to come— him, your desk partner for the semester that you’d been unfortunately struck by— but it was long enough for the afternoon sky to be inked by gray clouds. Long enough for it to start pouring in on your behalf.

You sniffled. Ah, shit. This is stupid. You said you weren’t going to cry but fuck, your eyes suddenly started to sting, and you’re looking up at the clouds because gravity might help in preventing them from falling, but all it did was pool saltwater in your tearducts and now they’ve overflown, mixing into the raindrops cascading down your face.

“Until when are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?”

Instead of the gray, pouring sky, your vision is cloaked by a jarring electric blue. It was the same obnoxious color as the umbrella Beomgyu brings around. Then again— that was just his voice, too. Your cheeks started burning. That was enough to bring you back to your senses. “Did—did you see—”

“Let’s go home.”

It was one thing to be caught crying by your friend-slash-neighbor-slash-annoyance. It was another thing to be caught getting rejected by him. That was double the shame and embarrassment soiled. But Beomgyu hasn’t made a mention of it throughout your walk back to the building, much to your relief and suspicion. This man would make fun of you to the ends of high hell just for keeping a plushie to bed until you were thirteen— you weren’t sure when he started developing the emotional intelligence to stay in the comfort of silence throughout your walk home.

Of course, you didn’t expect him to hold his tongue for too long. It was an empty road, and the rain was still pouring. Beomgyu held up his umbrella above your head, and started with a low voice, “Want me to beat him up?”

Your steps lagged, faltering a little in mild surprise. “You?” An invisible force started tugging on the corners of your lips. “With your lanky ass and noodle arms? Keep dreaming, loser.”

“Hey—” You had to hold back a snort when you saw his face, an evident look of unbridled offense taking over, and he stopped in his tracks just to passionately defend himself. “You take that back. I’m strong. I’m pretty sure I can lift you up with just one arm. I can beat the shit out of Jiwoong if I wanted to.”

“Sure,” you snickered. “That is if you want to end up in the hospital. You’re all skin and bones, Beomgyu. You’re weak as hell. Remember the last time we arm wrestled? I’m pretty sure it ended up with me as the winner, and you as the— eep!”

You yelped, eyes widening. Suddenly, the ground wasn’t touching your feet anymore, you could feel the rain on your skin, and the bright, blue umbrella was now on the ground. You can see nothing but the fabric of Beomgyu’s dark and drenched uniform blazer and glimpses of the upside down pavement. Your face started to heat up. You could feel his firm grip around your waist and legs.

“That was in sixth grade, doofus. Keep up,” he snorted. 

“What the hell? Put me down!” you let out a grunt and tried to wiggle yourself free, but he’s unyielding— continuing the walk back home while carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “If you don’t put me down, I am going to bite you.”

“Nuh-uh.” The bastard gave your body a rough shake as a warning, and you screamed. “Not until you take back what you said earlier.” You balled your hands into a fist and hit his back. “Wow, you’re so ungrateful. I’m giving you a free ride home yet you decide to assault me. Your mother will be so disappointed when she hears this.”

“Your mother will shave your head if she finds out your haircut received a warning this morning.”

“Oooo—kay. Down you go. Ride over.” The moment Beomgyu settled you back on the ground, you gave him the nastiest glare you could muster. He gave you a grin. “Your hair is a mess.”

“Whose fault is it?” you sneer.

“Jiwoong’s,” he answered, matting down the top of your head with his hands. You winced when his fingers got caught between the wet, tangled strands. Beomgyu’s lips pursed as he tried to unravel them, brows furrowed in concentration. “I’m uninviting him to our game night tomorrow. He can eat shit.”

“He’s gonna talk shit if you do that,” you replied.

“Who cares.” He was finished tinkering with your hair. It was still pouring. “Done. Let’s go home.” You didn’t know if he made it better or worse.

“Okay,” you replied, feeling the top of your head. “But your umbrella ran away. Idiot.”

“Does it matter?” his lips quirked. “We’re already drenched, anyway.”)

The ice in your service water has already melted. You are going to kill a man named Lee Heeseung.

Why isn’t this motherfucker answering your calls? You let out a mental swear. It’s the second Saturday of your one-week break after midterms, and Heeseung organized a blind date for you and his friend today. The problem is, that said friend is nowhere to be seen. The customers next to your table have already changed thrice already. You’re not pathetic. You’re not gonna wait for him.

Right when you muster the willpower to get up, Heeseung finally answers your call. He’s quick to overtake your possible threats by immediately rambling, “Okay. Before you get mad—”

“You’re dead to me.”

“I’m sorry!” he screams-slash-pleads. “Eunseok canceled at the last minute because of this thing with his— nevermind. That’s not important. I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him, but please tell me you haven’t left the cafe yet.”

You bite your bottom lip. You want to lie. You want to tell him that you’ve already left thirty minutes ago and are now in your apartment with cozy pajamas and a cucumber face mask. “I’m around the area,” you reply. “Why?”

“Oh, good. Great.”

This is brow raising. The bell above the door entrance rings, catching your attention and you look up. “Why?”

“You’re still going on a date,” he tells you. “I promise you, your time definitely won’t be wasted—”

Heeseung’s voice disappears into the background. Entering the cafe is the person you want to see the least. He’s wearing the hooded sweater you got him for Christmas last year, and around his neck are the headphones you got him for his birthday.

“—so I called another friend. Don’t think of him as just a second option, okay?! I think he’s more your type anyway, and—”

He’s looking around. He still hasn’t noticed you. He’s standing in the middle of the shop and he pulls out his phone. 

“—and he’s headed there right— oh! He says he’s there already!”

Beomgyu has spotted you and you want to kill yourself. Your head drops down and you bite down a scream of agony and despair. “You’ve heard of Choi Beomgyu, right? From BSEMC? I’ve mentioned him a few times. Haha. Anyway. I hope you enjoy your da—”

“Heeseung told me his friend got stood up and needed a backup.” He’s now in front of you. He’s looking down at you from behind the opposite chair. “I didn’t expect that that friend would be you.”

You’re going to kill yourself after you kill Heeseung. Better yet, why not murder Beomgyu as well so you can all rot in bloody fucking hell? 

“Hello?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, trying your best to subtly hide the burning embarrassment on your face without making it obvious that your pride is now in perfectly tattered shambles. Of all people, why him? Why? For the love of god, why? “Just leave. I doubt you even want to be here. Let’s just spare each other the headache, alright?”

Beomgyu stifles a scoff. You watch as his knuckles flex while clutching the back of the chair. “I canceled a game for this.” He pulls it back and plops down on the seat like a petulant child. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your face contorts into an unabashed grimace. You take your bag and stand up. “Okay. Then, I’m leaving.” 

“You could’ve left an hour ago.”

Pause. He looks up at you, arms crossed and confident. Your upper lip twitches. You sit back down. Heeseung has already died twice in your head.

“I guess even someone as heartless as you is desperate for a little romance,” he hums, leaning back against his seat and completely at ease— a stark contrast to your end of the table: hot and bothered for all the wrong, not very sexy reasons. You’re trying to feign calmness, but the sweat dripping down your forehead from the heat of shame is ratting you out. This is the worst. This is the absolute worst.

You’re only able to breathe again when Beomgyu gets up to order something. Maybe you should order something too because your throat is as dry as bone. He returns not long after with a tray in hand. He settles it down on the table, revealing two glasses of iced tea and a plate of matcha tiramisu.

“Quit sulking,” he says. “You’re ugly when you sulk.”

With one hand, you flip him off. With the other, you use to grab one of the forks and dig into the dessert. Beomgyu mirrors your actions (minus the middle finger part), and grimaces after a spoonful lands in his mouth. “How are you eating this?” You hover a hand over your lips, pressing down a laugh. “It tastes like grass. Are you a cow? Is that it?”

Offended, you pull the plate closer to you. “Then why did you buy matcha if you’re just gonna insult it?”

“Because you like it.” Beomgyu reaches an arm over to get another bite, gags, then continues to try again. “Your tastebuds are really fucking weird. You should get them checked. I think they’re broken.”

You settle with an eye roll before taking a sip from the iced tea. This is odd. This feels like you’ve been transported back into time prior to your three-month long cold war. Choi Beomgyu is sitting in front of you and tapping on his phone laid on the table, and you’re sitting in front of him enjoying a nice piece of dessert he bought. There’s an odd cacophony inside your stomach— like butterflies and glass shards fluttering and cracking in a single enclosed space. 

“I heard you’ll be playing for the E-Sports Fest next week,” you mention, trying to dig a deeper hole into this crack that managed to resurface. Beomgyu gives you a weird, insinuating look in response. “Shut your face. I just keep hearing your name being mentioned. Heeseung is obsessed with you, I think.”

“Why are you asking?” he snorts, passing you a napkin. “You want to cheer for me?”

“Ew. Why would I?” you reply, blindly wiping at the corner of your mouth. “We’re not even from the same department.”

Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, trained on the lower half of your face. “Tch. Then why even bring it up, you—”

Time stops. For some reason, Beomgyu has reached his arm over the table and is now touching your face, thumb pressed against the side of your lip with a napkin, the opposite side of where you were trying to wipe off. 

Your eyes meet. It gets warm.

“Sorry,” he coughs out, retracting his hand to wipe the green-dusted cream off his fingers. Now, you know all of Choi Beomgyu’s tells like the back of your hand— and he’s not hiding those blushing ears from anyone. You’ve caught him. You knew his son of a bitch act was gonna crumble at some point (no, you didn’t. You thought he was gonna stay mad at you forever so now your heart is racing in glee). “If you’re done, let’s go. Come pick up your mom’s containers from my place.”

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Right.”

“I washed them.”

“Congratulations.”

He sneers. “Get up. I’m leaving you.”

The one thing you regret about making the deal with Beomgyu is missing out the opportunity of taking advantage of him and the car his parents’ gifted for graduation. Seriously. Had you known he’d be driving a private vehicle to and from campus everyday, you might have never asked for that favor in the first place. Those three months worth of bus fares could’ve been spent on your daily doses of coffee instead.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds while pulling out of the driveway. You’re mildly impressed and your face isn’t hiding it, and neither is the bashful tint on the tips of his ears. “Quit staring, you weirdo.”

“You can be kind of cool after all.” You give him a thumbs up. He grunts, and now you’re on the road back to your apartment.

It’s a quiet drive— the hum of the engine filling the early evening silence. You steal a few glances here and there, sneaking a few peeks at a new side of your friend(?) that you’ve never witnessed before. Since when was he so good at driving? He’s got only one hand on the steering wheel. It’s weird, you think. You’ve known everything about him for as long as you can remember, and finding out something new for the first time in a while— and not being the first one to find out about it— is making odd twists and turns inside your gut.

When you reach the apartment building, it’s still quiet. And when you ride up the elevator all the way to your floor, walking up the space between both of your doors, silence still permeates the walls and it makes you wonder— has it ever been this quiet between you two? 

“I’ll go get the stuff. Stay here.”

You’re left behind with your messy thoughts in the hallway and before things can get even more tangled up, Beomgyu shows up again with the bright blue shopping bag you dropped off last week. “Tell the madam that her seasoned spinach is perfect as usual.” He returns the bag, a faint smile on his face.

“Go tell her that yourself,” you huff, retrieving it from him. “I’m pretty sure she calls you more often than she calls me.” The tupperwares and containers look clean. You should give him a treat for doing a good job.

“Your mother is constantly worried about her young, impressionable daughter taking her first steps of independence, but doesn’t want to be called overbearing by her only child, so she asks me about you instead.” Beomgyu’s tone is nagging. You shoot him a glare and he simply steps closer to jab a finger into your forehead. “You have no idea how hard it is to make up bullshit about what you’ve been up to. You owe me a lot, dipshit.”

You wince, smacking his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The corners of his mouth twitch. His eyes leer away for a moment, and he lets out a huff of air through his nose. “Why? Do I know you?”

Oh god. Here he goes again.

“Why do you keep—” You stop, squeezing your eyes and taking in a deep inhale because for a moment there, you were just about to yell again. “Okay,” you restart. You should do something about your temper. “Okay. I apologize for troubling you, and I’ll tell her to quit bothering you, so—”

It was going well. It was going so well. Only if you had missed the very subtle, very irritating roll of his eyes upon your remark. 

“—so you should quit being an absolute dickhead too, asshole!”

Then maybe you could’ve lived in happy ignorance, and all your progress today wouldn’t have to restart.

“Oh, so I’m the asshole?” he scoffs, incredulous. “You’re the one who told me to distance myself. You’re the one who asked. I’m just doing what you told me to do. Why am I in the wrong?” Your throat tightens, a familiar choke the moment you try to swallow. 

“I never asked you to stop being friends with me, Beomgyu! I just—”

Asked you to keep our friendship hidden because I’m selfish. Because I’m insecure. Because I hate you just as much as you mean the world to me. 

But you can’t tell him any of these things, can’t you?

His disappointment is clear from the look on his face. Beomgyu lets his fingers rake through his hair with a sigh. “Just go home. Thanks for the food.”

There’s something twisting inside your stomach, churning at an uncomfortable pace. It’s gnawing and grating. You’re only able to pinpoint it when Beomgyu turns back to his apartment, prompted by the resounding click of his door lock.

Ah, you realize amid the silence of the now empty hallway. It’s guilt.

#3: YOU DON’T LIKE HOW MUCH OF YOUR IDENTITY HE’S STRIPPED AWAY. You know it’s not on purpose. You know he doesn’t know. But it’s something that’s plagued you until your last few weeks of high school— the time for last chances, and final opportunities. It’s for this reason that you can’t stand him the most.

(“Hey!”

It was an unfamiliar voice that called out your name from behind you in the hallway, so you ignored it assuming that maybe they were calling someone else. It gets repeated, and you stop in front of your locker to retrieve your shoes, paying no mind to it. You’re going home alone today because Beomgyu’s out with his guy friends. “We’re having dinner together at my house later! Don’t forget!” was the last thing he yelled at you before running off. An unconscious smile crawls onto your face at the thought of it.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and heard the same voice that’d been repeating your name. You spin around, and are a little surprised to see the group standing behind you. “Hi!” 

It was Haena, one of your classmates, and she was joined with two more of the girls from your class, and one that you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Oh, sorry,” you bowed a little. “I didn’t know I was the one you were calling. I wasn’t trying to ignore you, sorry.” Your surprise stemmed from the fact that you weren’t really close with Haena or her friends. Not that you were on bad terms. You greeted each other from time to time, but your friend circle really just consisted of Choi Beomgyu, your deskmate Chaeryeong, and Ryunjin from the broadcasting club.

“It’s alright,” she smiled. “Do you…maybe have any plans today?”

You pulled out your shoes from the locker and closed it tightly. “No, not really.”

“Great! There’s a new cafe that opened near the school. Wanna join us?”

Well. This was unexpected. You didn’t have any other plans besides the joint family dinner you had with the Choi’s, so going on a cafe detour wouldn’t hurt. Beomgyu was also out with his other friends right now. Who says you couldn’t do the same? “Sure,” you replied. “I’ll join.”

It was a cute, cat-themed cafe with the only disappointment being that there were no actual cats— just the cat-shaped whipped cream on your strawberry drink, and the cat-shaped tiramisu on your plate. Cats weren’t usually green or pink, but you digress.

The girls were friendly. Conversation ranged from the universities you’ll all be attending, the classes you’re all about to finish, sprinkled with topics on shopping and clothes and the names of the rest of your classmates here and there. You’d started to zone out after a good while, stirring the contents of your half-empty drink as you stared at the glass windows, tinted orange by the sunset sky.

Haena cleared her throat. “So,” she started. You turned your attention back to your companions, and your eyes widened a little when you were met with all their eyes on you. Haena pronounced your name. “I’ve always been curious about something.”

You blinked. “About what?”

She leaned closer, a smile playing on her lips. “Are you and Beomgyu dating?”

You nearly choked on the sweet, strawberry drink. “What? No!” 

“Really?” Seohyun nudged herself closer next to you on the seat.

“Everyone thinks you’re dating him,” said Bora. “You’re always together.”

“Ah, that’s ridiculous! I’m really not dating him!” Your face has started to warm up. Gosh, what was this? What kind of situation was this? A few of them weren’t convinced, you could tell. You pressed your lips together before breathing out, “We’ve known each other since we were like toddlers. There’s no way in hell I’d be dating him. I don’t know where you're getting all these assumptions from.”

There was a glint in Haena’s eyes that you didn’t fail to notice.

“So, you don’t have any feelings for him?” This was getting weird.

“No. No, I don’t.” And even if you did, what the hell would they be interrogating you about it?

Haena visibly brightened. “Really? Then can you set me up with him?”

You were dumbfounded.

“I’m— I’m sorry?”

Things started to click. Senior high school was almost over, and your classmates whom you’ve barely even shared a conversation with for the past three years, were taking their last chance to start something with their crushes, or some shit, under the guise of half-hearted friendliness. You’ve understood now— and you’re nothing less than offended.

“Actually, I’ve liked Beomgyu for a while now,” Haena bashfully admitted. Seohyun inserted that her friend has had a crush on him since the beginning of the year. “I thought there was something going on between the two of you so I never acted on it. But I’m so happy to hear that you two are just friends!”

You shouldn’t be annoyed. But you were. You were very annoyed.

“You’ll help me right?”

Needless to say, you went home that day with your cat tiramisu in a paper box as takeout. The next morning, the three girls greeted your classroom entrance with unabashed glares. You paid no mind and headed over to your seat at the back, where an out of place box of chocolate milk was gingerly resting on the table.

You were mildly suspicious that Choi Beomgyu was the one who put that there, so you held it in your hands with caution, examining the box closer when you took a seat. 

The alleged perpetrator suddenly showed up from behind you. Your head felt heavier. Beomgyu was resting his arms on the top of your head, leaning down all of his weight onto you. “Oh wow,” he started. “Looks like someone has a secret admirer.”

You elbowed him and he let out a sharp yelp. You could see Haena giving you dirty looks from afar. “Go back to your seat,” you scolded him. “Class is starting soon.” Beomgyu listens to you well, but not after messing up your hair even further and greeting Seungmin who had just walked in.

“Are we still going after class?”

Choi Beomgyu was always surrounded by people. This was something you noticed a few months into your second year of middle school. He was like a lamp, flocked by so many buzzing insects in the night— just like right now, his face barely visible from inside the crowd at the middle of the classroom where his seat was. Even your seating assignments placed him at the center. That’s just where he’s meant to be.

“Hey, did you and Haena get into a fight?” 

You looked up to see Chaeryeong barely arriving in time before the bell, pulling her seat back and plopping down right next to you.

“Don’t mind it.” You sunk your face into your arms on the desk, elbow grazing the still unopened chocolate milk on the line dividing yours and your friend’s desk. “Hey,” you let your face peek out a little from your makeshift cocoon. “From an outsider’s perspective...do Beomgyu and I give the impression that we’re, um, dating?”

She snorted. “Haven’t your parents arranged your marriage, already?”

“This is a serious question!”

Honestly, this has never crossed your mind. Not until Haena mentioned it yesterday. It took a while for things to click inside your brain, but if this misunderstanding was really not singular, then that would really explain why you have never received any confession, any valentine’s day chocolate, or love letter, or anything for the past three years of highschool. It was all Beomgyu’s fault. He’s been unknowingly sabotaging your love life and if you end up sad and dying alone, it’s all on him.

Well, I guess it’s not completely ruined. Your cheeks pressed against your arms, looking at the milk carton on your desk. 

When you got up to your desk the next morning, there was another milk carton on your table.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Seungmin hovering in front of your table. “What?”

“Not even a good morning? Beomgyu was right. You do have an attitude.” You rolled your eyes and stuffed the drink into your bag, and Seungmin decided to keep talking. “Anyway, where is he? You two usually arrive at the same time.”

“He slept through his alarm,” you replied. Then you furrowed your brows. “Why are you asking me? Couldn’t you just text him?”

“Well, it would be quicker to just ask you. Anyway, thanks.”

With that, he left. The bell rang, and your teacher arrived. You decide to save the drink until lunch time and when you got back to the classroom from the cafeteria, there was another snack on your table. For the next following days, you would find snacks suddenly spawning on your table. It was starting to get curious.

“Whoa. Holy crap. Someone might actually have a crush on you.”

It was now Friday, the end of the week, and you have accumulated a total of four milk boxes, three melon breads, and one pack of cookies all throughout. You and Beomgyu were staring down at the latest addition: a grape juice box and a packet of chocopie. He started muttering, “Does your admirer know that you snore when you—”

You gave him a kick. Beomgyu matched it with a harsh pull on your bag. He quickly ran away before you could retaliate, the rest of his body having already left, and his head peeking from the door to give you one last message.

“I’m going first! We have a raid in a while. What time is dinner later?”

“I’ll message you.”

“Alright,” he hummed. “See you. Text me if something comes up.”

This must be why people think you were dating. You were tired of it. When you were younger, people paid no mind to how much time and space you two were spending together— now that you’ve gotten a little older, maybe some things couldn’t be perceived as platonic forever.

But you don’t have any feelings for him, and neither does he for you. The only feeling you have for him is a penetrating sense of irritation. You mulled it over as you left the school building, clutching your bag straps as you walked. However, you paused upon seeing a familiar face standing at the edge of the entrance stairs. He looked like he was waiting for someone. 

“Oh! Um,” he suddenly exclaimed upon noticing your approaching presence. A cough stifled out from his throat, followed by a nervous smile. “Hi.”

It was Lim Jimin, one of your classmates and one of the boys that were usually rallying up every afternoon after class to the internet cafe with Beomgyu and Seungmin like a bunch of nerds. “Hey?” you greet back. “Didn’t you guys have a raid or something today? I think they already left.”

“No, I uh, I stayed behind,” he mumbled. “Can we talk for a bit?”

The chocolate milk carton he was holding had not gone unnoticed by you. Your narrowed eyes flitted over to his fidgeting fingers. His nerves were spilling right out. “Have you been the one leaving food on my desk?”

He flinched. “Yeah— well—” A smile curled on your lips. “Damn, this is a little embarrassing. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you hummed. “I enjoyed them. Thanks.”

There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks, a sheepish hand on the back of his neck and it looked as if he was running through a million thoughts in his head at once. “I’ve...I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he finally started after a moment’s silence. “Can you do me a favor?”

Your heart jumped. Holy shit. This is happening, this is actually happening. 

“Y—yeah?”

Your breath hitched inside your throat. Oh my god. You might actually end your curse of lovelessness today. Oh my fucking god.

“Can you convince Beomgyu to help me get to Platinum in League?”

What?

“I—I know this sounds dumb, and it’s kinda pathetic that I had to bribe you with snacks just to get to this— but he’s been refusing to help any of us because he leaves after like three games!” Jimin exclaimed, and, upon noticing the flat look on your face, quickly gathered himself back together. “Ahem. I thought…maybe you could convince him since you’re like, his girlfriend and all.”

Your brain was a loading screen. You blinked but saw nothing but red. Beomgyu goes home after three games because you guys eat dinner at six in the evening. Jimin was giving you food as a bribe. You were not getting a confession.

All at once, the blood rose to your face,

“W-wait— is that a yes? Are you gonna ask him—”

Your shame couldn’t keep you standing there like an idiot for any longer. Every hurried step you took was a testament of your misery, and you left behind in your wake a fucking wave of turmoil and embarrassment. Fuck, your cheeks were burning. Fuck, why did Beomgyu have to entertain that idea and muddled your brain.

“Oh, you’re home?” your mother greeted the moment you kicked open your apartment door and started stomping to your room. “Where’s Beomgyu? Why didn’t you come home toge—”

“Ugh!” you groaned. “Enough about him, please!”

Did you only exist as an extension of him? As a part of him? As Choi Beomgyu’s friend, girlfriend, whatever, as the girl who’s always been around him for the past seventeen years to the point where that was all you’re known for?

You were fucking sick of it.

Your mom was scolding you for yelling at her, but you were far into your emotions to stay behind and say sorry. Your bag was left on the living room floor, and you were once again stomping out of your apartment unit, only to bump your face into Choi Beomgyu. “Whoa,” he remarked, quickly grabbing onto your shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” You shoved yourself off him.

“Someone’s cranky,” he mused, trailing behind you as you continued bulldozing down the hallway, down the stairs, out the building and on the dim and chalky path towards the playground. Beomgyu kept chattering. “What’s up? Why are you mad? Did you leave something behind in the classroom? Okay, you aren’t talking to me. That’s fine. I was gonna ask you what flowers you wanted for our graduation ceremony, but I guess I’ll just pick and choose whatever I—”

Smack!

You’ve spun around. You’ve got his face smacked in between your palms, promptly shutting him up. His eyes flew open, mouth firmly and tightly closed. “Can you stop talking for a second?” you guttered out.

Beomgyu stared at you, eyes still wide, then nodded once, still sandwiched between your palms. You bit down your bottom lip. Your ribcage was starting to squeeze in on itself. “Sorry,” you mumbled, arms falling back to your sides and you resumed your march towards the playground. 

He stayed silent for the rest of the time, following you on the see-saws and the both of you exchanged ups and downs for a few moments— quiet moments— until you were the one to break it.

“Hey, fuckface,” you called out,

“What do you want, dipshit?” he replied.

“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”)

YOUR MORNING STARTED OFF NICELY. It’s the first day back to uni after your one week break. You woke up before your alarm and had the time to make a really stir-fried rice meal for breakfast (your first breakfast in a week, mind you). Your clothes are fresh from the dryer, mascara unclumpy, and you arrive at the bus stop at the same time as your bus to campus arrives, right on the dot. 

Today is going great. That is until Heeseung shows up at the library after sending you a text that he’s on the way, and ruins everything with one, single statement.

“Did you sleep with Beomgyu the other night?”

The orange juice you’re drinking nearly dribbles out of your mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Your voice is louder than you thought. Heeseung shushes you and sits and pulls out the seat next to yours, ready to explain. “The guys from the coding club blew up the GC last night. A few of them saw you come out of his car and enter his apartment building together last Saturday. I think there were pictures.” Your mouth is agape. You’re speechless. “I didn’t tell them anything! Some of the guys were just around the neighborhood and happened to see you.”

Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no.

“But, I guess...the blind date went well?”

God, fuck no.

Your worst nightmare has finally come crashing into reality.

“We live in the same building, get your mind out of the gutter!” you hiss, pulling him by the collar. Heeseung is very visibly terrified. You never wanted him to find out about your living situation in the first place because you know that he’d force you to hang out with them whenever he’s crashing at Beomgyu’s. You’re starting to regret hitting up a conversation with him during the orientation. These men are the banes of your existence. “Who is it? Who the fuck is spreading that stupid fucking rumor?”

“Please let go of me,” he squeaks out. You grunt, releasing the fabric of his shirt. He takes in a breath and fixes his clothes. “I’m not a snitch. Sorry.”

Heeseung is avoiding your eyes. He’s twiddling with the top button of his button up, nervously pressing together his lips. You run through the members of their “coding club” (it’s just a cover so they can play games in a cushy campus office). It doesn’t take long for you to come up with a name.

“Yang Jeongin.” Your friend’s panic tells you that you’re on the nail. 

“He only sent the photo!” he quickly exclaims. “He never said that you two were hooking up or anything! Please, spare him, please—”

So much for a perfect morning. It’s not even nine and you’re already fucking drained.

You let out a groan, massaging your temples and balancing yourself with your elbows on the study table. Heeseung is spewing out a million apologies and you’re not taking shit. “You’re not gonna go to our clubroom and destroy our computers, right?”

“Thanks for the idea.”

“You’re a demon,” he grumbles. “What’s the big deal, anyway? You yourself said you and Beomgyu didn’t fuck. But you two went home together and you haven’t complained about him yet. That means your date went really, really—”

“Can you please just quit it?!” 

That’s it. You’ve had enough. You shoot up from your seat, quickly gathering your things before you actually start throwing punches. “I’m sick and tired of hearing his name!” Heeseung gulps. He quickly scoots away to evade your haphazardly swinging bag. “Why the fuck do you all keep mentioning that piece of shit? It’s like everyone’s obsessed with him, it’s like everyone wants a chance to ride on his di—”

The words get cut off. Because when you turned around to make your leave, Choi Beomgyu was right there, behind you, and you bump into him and his blank face of terror.

“Oh.”

Yang Jeongin is also there, looking mildly scared of you.

But you’re more horrified than anyone in this hall.

Hiccup!

Your face flushes, searing hot and visibly enflamed.

“I, uh—” hiccup! “I’m about to leave anyway so you guys can—” hiccup! “—shit, fuck, fucking hell—”

You quickly swerve away, head down, but an arm swooshes over to barricade your exit path. There’s a water bottle in front of your heated face. Your line of sight follows towards the owner of the arm. Beomgyu is looking at you straight in the eye.

“Drink some water first.”

Hiccup!

Fuck, this is so embarrassing.

“Whoa. She’s so fast.”

The three boys watch your speedily retreating figure, pausing once or twice because of a hiccup, but your pace is still abnormally fast as you escape from the premises. There is no trace of you, save for the orange juice container you’d been drinking since earlier.

“There’s this tension between the two of you, you know.” Beomgyu turns his head to Heeseung who made the observation, a single eyebrow raised. “Do you two really live in the same building, or is she just making up an excuse? Seriously. Tell me how it went with you two. I was the one who set you up. I think I have the right to know.”

Beomgyu holds back a snort. He leans closer to Heeseung, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “You wanna know?”

Heeseung’s eyes sparkle. “Dude, I’m dying of curiosi—”

Smack!

“That’s none of your business.”

Beomgyu swipes the juice box from the table and promptly leaves the library despite the protests of his two friends. Out in the hallway, he doubts he could catch up to you after running away like a white collar convict, but who knows? He might get lucky— just like last Saturday.

“Hey, dude, wait up!”

An arm is hooked around his neck, and he gets pulled down with a grunt. He might be unable to catch up to you, but his friends definitely can with him. Now all his chances are gone, slipping out of his fingers like the juice container that he drops when caught between Heeseung and Jeongin shoving each other around, and it’s now completely lost upon the arrival of the people from his major.

“Hey, classes are canceled.”

“What are we having for lunch?”

“Are we having a practice run later for the festival?”

“Wait, I have to update my story— hey, look at the camera!”

They talk, but it’s all white noise. He gets carried off by static for the rest of the day. He hopes to bump into you when he gets home, but Beomgyu doesn’t even know what time you usually get home.

All the years you’ve spent mastering the perfect bitch face have finally come to fruition when you visited the programming club during lunch to make sure none of the bullshit they’re speculated escapes their clubroom doors. They all apologized— apparently Beomgyu also told them to quit their gossiping. 

However not even fear can stop an inherently stupid man. Because the next day, Minjeong suddenly tells you, “hey, I didn’t know you and Choi Beomgyu were a thing!”

Now, which rat managed to slip through the door crack?

“No, we’re not,” you scrunch your nose. “Where did you get that from?”

From a friend of a friend of a friend, she says. Sungchan asked you the same thing earlier. So did some guy from one class whom you don’t even know the name of. Your head is hurting. Crap that blind date was a stupid fucking idea. Seriously, why does no one know how to mind their own business? What is it about Choi Beomgyu that people just can’t keep his name out of their mouths? He’s not even a celebrity. He’s just a freshman with a pretty face and the social skills of an annoyingly loud butterfly.

“I’m going home,” you tell her.

“Why? I thought we were having barbecue with the rest of the guys!”

Not when you’re sure you’re gonna be barraged by another slew of questions about your dumb childhood friend. You bid Minjeong goodbye and exit the campus, hopping on the bus back to your apartment with a dead set agenda in mind. You’re going to fix this. You’r gonna bring things back to normal once and for all. So when you arrive at your floor, you don’t make a left like you usually do— you turn to your right and make three hard knocks on the sturdy door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Choi Beomgyu.”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Beomgyu, are you ho—”

It gets opened sooner than you’re used to.

“Listen. We need to talk,” you quickly start, ignoring the surprise on his face upon seeing you, ignoring the way he almost shuts the door again right into your face. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to sneak out. “Things have gotten messy since last Saturday. You should’ve kept your clubmates in check. What’s the point of acting like we’re strangers when people I don’t know keep asking me if I’m your fucking girlfriend, and Lee Heeseung keeps badgering me about what’s going on between us, and— oh my fucking god. Heeseung is right there.”

Beomgyu’s body is shielding you from the view of his living room. It’s not doing a good job because Heeseung waves at you from inside. Jeongin is there too. You can’t do this anymore. You’re cursed. You’re cursed with a plague called Choi Beomgyu and his ten million friends.

Your shaking eyes flit over back to Beomgyu. He looks panicked. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat and shrivel up like a pathetic dried grape.

“Fuck.”

At this point, running away feels like muscle memory to you now.

“Wait, I— hold on. I’ll be back,” you hear him say right before the door clicks and there’s another pair of pattering footsteps down the hallway right behind yours. The rhythm is familiar— a lag by one step, catching up, then slowing down as if he doesn’t want to overtake you all while you bulldoze through the hallway until you reach the flight of stairs, down three floors, and you’re met with the cold wind of the outside.

It’s only now that you realize your lungs are shaking.

“Hey—”

You smack away his attempt to settle a hand on your shoulder, but you’re far too embarrassed to look up and look him in the eye. Your face is burning. It’s been burnt so many times within the span of two weeks and it’s a miracle it hasn’t been charred. “Go away. Go back upstairs,” you sniffle. All you can see is the cement ground and the worn out slippers on his feet.

He stifles out something sort of a sigh. “No.” There’s a tug on the hem of your shirt. You wobble forward. Beomgyu holds onto your arms. You finally snap your head up and see his face. “You said we needed to talk. Let’s talk.”

It’s a little pathetic how you’re so near to breaking into tears. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to.”

“Is that really what you should be saying after completely screwing yourself over?”

“Shut up.” All the strength you had in your legs has been stripped away. Beomgyu is tugging your limp body to your complex’s gazebo with ease. “How could I have known your friends would be there?” you drawl out, allowing yourself to be dragged under its overhead roof.

He settles you down onto the stairs. “Isn’t Heeseung your friend too?”

“Not anymore.” You plop down on the wood, shoulders slacked, legs outstretched. Beomgyu is standing before you with his arms crossed. “From now on, he is nothing to me.”

There’s a frown on his face. “You should’ve called before deciding to blow up like that. I did my best. You’re the one that ruined your whole stranger agenda.”

“Fuck off, I’m still trying to cope.”

You kick out your foot like a child throwing a tantrum, and Beomgyu definitely doesn’t look impressed. He walks up, signaling you to scoot over, and squeezes right next to you on the narrow stair step of the gazebo. 

Shoulders pressed together, he leans slightly forward, elbows on his lap, and all you can see is the side of his face as you incline backwards so you don’t suffocate from the sudden tightness of air. “Am I like, too lame for you, or something,” he suddenly says. You blink once, failing to comprehend his words the first time. When he cocks his head back, you see the look in his eyes— earnest and raw.

You can’t help but crack out a snort.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” you sputter out. Your plaster your hands over your face, trying to suppress your misplaced chimes. “I just didn’t think you could make that kind of face. Wow, you can be serious too, huh?”

“You’re laughing,” he deadpans. “I’m trying to be serious here and you’re laughing.”

“I said I was sorry! Okay, let’s try again, let’s try again.” You clear your throat, sitting up straight and patting your palms on your lap, but something keeps tugging on the corners of your mouth and it’s hard to sit still. “No, you are not ‘too lame’ for me, Beomgyu. Where did that even come from?”

His expression bitters, unconvinced. “Then are you ashamed of me?”

“No.”

“Did I do anything abhorrently wrong?”

“What? No—”

“Am I not cool enough to be considered your friend?”

“Beomgyu, what are you talking about?” It was funny the first time, but now you’re just concerned. “Would I have stuck around your ass for almost twenty years if I thought any of that? Things haven’t been the best between us lately, but I still think we’re friends, Beomgyu, I—”

There’s a crack in your voice. Your face flushes. He’s looking at you so intently that you instinctively drop your head down before prying out the words that’s been lingering in your throat for months overdue.

“I…I hope we still are,” you mutter. “I really do.”

“Then why did you want to act like we’re not?” 

There it is.

“I didn’t want to keep it up for a long time!” you reason. “I just— I just wanted to keep my distance until I’ve adjusted to uni and until I’ve made a few friends of my own because for most of my life, I’ve only been known as the girl who’s always around you and nothing else.”

It takes a gnaw at your pride to be finally saying this out loud. It’s a bitter taste on your tongue— ugly and unpalatable and you’re glad that you won’t ever have to swallow it ever again. 

When you look up, you see Beomgyu make another new face you never expected from him.

“I doubt you noticed how people would only approach me because of you, but I really don’t blame you for anything. It was an unreasonable request and you had every right to be mad. I might have taken it back had we stayed around on the playground for a little longer.” You take a pause. “But then you started acting like a dick to me so I decided to be a dick to you too.”

You expect him to bite back but he doesn’t and it worries you. Shit, maybe you’ve unhauled too much. Maybe this wasn’t the right time be all vulnerable and crap but Beomgyu isn’t telling you you’re a big fucking idiot, so maybe it’s fine.

Instead, he stays quiet for a little longer, your words simmering in the air. 

“I wasn’t just angry. I was hurt,” he finally says. “Like you said, you’ve been with me for all my life and you suddenly tell me to reverse all of that. How the fuck did you expect me to act like you’re nobody when we both know that at this point I can’t live without you.”

Oh.

“Shit.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t mean— I didn’t want to say—” He’s covering the bottom half of his face with his fist. He’s turning his head away as much as he can but you can still see enough to notice. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that. Forget about it.”

You lean closer. “Beomgyu, are you crying?”

“No. Fuck off.”

His right shoulder is serving as his shield as you try to dig your nose further, completely turning away from you, but you don’t miss it. You can’t miss it. “Oh my god, you’re crying.” Beomgyu leers back at you ever the slightest. There’s red tinting his eyes. You expect him to scurry off back into the building after that— but, no. Instead, pulls you by the forearm, and lets his head fall onto your shoulder, his forehead pressed firmly down. 

“Eat shit and die,” he mutters in between sniffles. After your initial surprise, you lift up the arm he isn’t grabbing onto to give him a few pats on the back, circles over his shoulder blades, and you stay like that for a while, for maybe too long because the sky is now darker than when you first went outside.

“Beomgyu,” you start.

“What do you want?” he muffles, as if he isn’t still draped over you like an oversized rag.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was selfish and inconsiderate.”

You hear him sniffle again. Heeseung wouldn’t believe you if you tell him Choi Beomgyu is actually a big baby. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize the way other people were treating you,” he says. “I can’t help being such a cool guy that you get overshadowed, you know. So I’m not sorry for that— ow! Ow, what the heck!”

You pry him off by the hair. You’re sure a few strands got plucked off, but a realization you didn’t expect to glean from this was the fact that his stupid shaggy hair is actually really soft. “I think this is enough. We should head back.”

In spite of his complaining, Beomgyu trails behind you when you stand up and dust yourself before making your way back inside. It’s still quiet, save for the hisses and grunts and swears whenever Beomgyu would step on your shoes, whenever he’d bump into you and feign innocence, whenever he’d get on your nerves immediately after just reconciling with you. 

It’s annoying. It’s annoying and it’s better than everything that’s been these past three months.

“Are you twelve?” you shoot him a glare, ready to punch in your door code before you get the urge to punch him instead.

“Come inside,” he tells you, nosing at his side of the apartment. “Let’s watch a movie.”

You raise a brow and cross your arms. “All of a sudden?”

“Yeah.” He mimics your pose. “Got a problem with that?”

You roll your eyes, but somehow you’re now a few steps away from your front door, and are now a few steps closer to his. “I do have a problem with it. Your fucking friends are in there.”

“I’ll deal with them.”

“Wow,” you snort. “So reliable.”

Still, you follow. Beomgyu twists his door knob and you’re suddenly nervous for the possible bullshit Heeseung would barrage you about your relationship with Beomgyu, but that doesn’t happen. The moment Beomgyu cracks open the door, his voice bounces around the inside of his apartment’s walls. “Anyone who doesn’t leave after the count of five will be banned from my apartment forever. Five. Four—”

Holy crap. You’re more surprised to see it actually work because Heeseung and Jeongin who’d been laying on the floor and tinkering with their playstation controllers have suddenly catapulted from the ground. “Wait, what about her?!” Heeseung protests as he’s being shoved by Jeongin out the door.

“She’s exempted,” Beomgyu responds. “Three. Two—”

“Whatever’s going on between you two, I take credit! You better spill the beans tomorrow. I can’t stand—”

“One.” 

With that, the door is shut.

Quiet washes over. Beomgyu turns to face you. “Good?” he asks. You give him a pat on the head.

“Good.” He’s like a puppy, you think, and retract your arm before spinning around to look around his living space. “What are we watching?”

It’s your first time inside, and the first thing you notice is how freaking dark it is inside his apartment. The windows are covered by blackout curtains, the television’s blue light and the light bulb from the kitchen island being the only light sources inside. You take the liberty to plop down on the floor in front of the sofa, further welcoming yourself to turn off the game the two were playing to scroll through Netflix.

“Remember the movie we got in trouble for watching?” Beomgyu rouses. He’s in the kitchen and cracking open the cupboards. “It was in eighth grade, I think.”

“The one that our parents thought was porn?” you question. Anyone would have thought it was porn with the word Bodies and the 18+ label on the CD case. “I don’t really recall the plot.”

“Me neither. All I can remember were your pissbaby screams.” 

“I was fourteen!”

He throws you a bag of chips and settles down right next to you. “Yeah, and so was I. Gimme the remote, scaredy cat.”

This guy is a perpetual test on your patience, but you continue to let him test you anyway. Before long, the television is shrouded by the familiar graphic imagery that scared you shitless early into your teenhood, and Beomgyu’s warmth is seeping into your side. His face is outlined by the bright red douses onscreen, melting into the contours of his face. “What are you looking at?” he asks, eyes absentmindedly still on the screen, hand mechanically digging into the bag of chips resting on your lap. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared? Wow, what a baby.”

“Coming from you? Your eyes are still red, Beomgyu. Your big baby tears have stained my shirt.” You swat his hand away. A creak rips out from the speakers. “Maybe you’re the one acting all tough.” Suspenseful music builds up. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your friends and fans that the great Choi Beomgyu is actually— eek!”

There’s a jumpscare. And Beomgyu is laughing his ass off as you unbury your face from his shoulders, ungripping the wrinkled fabric of his shirt with a sharp glare and flushed cheeks. “Not a single word from your whore mouth,” you warn. He’s grinning like crazy as he looks down at you. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you,” you sneer, trying to play off how you flinched at the sudden loud noise from the screen, but he’s probably noticed. How could he not notice every jitter from your bones when your legs are practically tangled together, when he keeps reaching out an arm over you to steal from the chip bag you keep nestled on your side away from him. 

The next moments are filled with nothing but the noise of guts ripping, limps splattering, and blood-curdling screams. 

“Can we watch something else?!”

“No way. Quit being lame and suck it up.”

Yet— in spite of the jumps and squirms and suppressed squeaks from your person— you haven’t felt this comfortable in months.

YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. You don’t like how much of your time he’s wasted. You don’t like how much of your pride he’s forced you to swallow. You don’t like how much of your identity he’s inadvertently stripped away.

You don’t like him for all those things, but here you are— dressed in his department’s colors, carrying a sign with his stupid face printed on, and waiting for the past thirty god damned minutes because he was supposed to be here ages ago for the stupid fucking E-Sports Fest that you’re not even remotely interested in.

If you don’t show up in five, I’m going home, you angrily mash on your phone. You’re risking it all here. If Heeseung sees you in this traitor outfit, he’s going to give you the silent treatment for a week. The bastard still owes you two more weeks of lunch to repent. You can’t lose the upper hand. You can’t lose your leverage.

Your phone buzzes. Had to piss. Be there in a bit, his reply says.

“I don’t need to be informed about your bladder activities, you freak,” you grumble to yourself. Your bright orange ensemble has been catching unwanted attention. That or his face on your sign. Any minute longer, you’re going to bury yourself alive.

“Excuse me.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and see an unfamiliar face. He’s wearing the same shirt color as you. “Are— are you friends with Choi Beomgyu?” he asks. The bastard has collected another fanboy. You feel a throb in the side of your head.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fucking friends with Choi Beomgyu. What about it? What do you want?”

“Whoa, there.” 

The said bastard swoops in and swings an arm over your shoulder and presses you to his side. “Sorry about that,” he tells the guy. Your sneer deepens. Beomgyu gives you a subtle pinch on the arm. “My friend is just grumpy because we lost a game to the engineering department earlier. Anyway, how can I help you?”

Orange number two wanted to ask for a picture with him because he was so cool in the Sudden Attack match earlier. Beomgyu excuses himself for a moment and they take a quick photo. “Tangerines are supposed to look pretty, you know,” your stupid friend announces once he gets back to you. You start making your way to the venue for his next match. It’s in a closed classroom. There’s a projector screen outside to livestream it. “Quit scowling. You’re scaring the kids.”

“That’s the plan,” you tell him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“If you keep acting like that, I might get the wrong idea,” he says. You look at him. There’s a subtle smile on his face and you don’t like it. “It’s like you only want me for yourse— ow! Joking! Joke— it was a joke! Jeez.”

“Go win, or whatever.” You shove him off seeing that you’ve arrived. It’s already pretty crowded. You’re scanning the area for a good spot to squeeze into.

“I better be hearing your cheers from inside the classroom.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you send him off with a smile. “If you lose, I’m unfriending you.”

“Not the first time you’d be doing it.”

“Fuck off. Good luck.”

He nods with a salute and an expression that mirrors yours before disappearing off into the classroom, and you’re left with two dozen bodies uncomfortably wedged in the hallway just to watch him play a game you don’t even know the god damned rules for. 

You don’t like Beomgyu. His face is something you’re sick of seeing after nearly twenty years of being stuck with him.

You don’t like him. Not even when he seems to always pick you despite having a million other options. Not even when he single-mindedly bulldozes straight into you despite having a whole army cheering for him on the sides after he’s won another game for his department, waiting for your praise and the usual swears you spit on his face with a bright smile.

“Congrats, fuckface,” you say, receiving him in your arms as he engulfs you in a tight hug. You give him a few pats on the back for good measure.

“You’re treating me to dinner, dipshit,” he grins, pulling away, but keeping a hold of your shoulders.

“Spoiled brat,” you sneer.

You don’t like him. He keeps buzzing around you like an immortal mosquito that just doesn’t die even after being swatted away tens of thousands of times. 

“Only to you,” he hums, looping an arm around your neck and starting dragging you along forward. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

You don’t like Choi Beomgyu. 

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You don’t. You really don’t.

모기 / MOGI. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[vcill]

Heya 🫰🏻

Could I request something like "What the brothers would say to you to get you into the mood"?

I love your writing and am very curious about your ideas 👀

Thanks for requesting!

Lucifer:

He's the devil for a reason.

Would act the complete opposite then how he's usually does in bed.

If you have a praise kink, time to go crazy!!

Starts off innocent, probably asks you to sit on his lap and tell him about your day.

Will listen to every word, if you say you did well on test he'll tell you how proud he is to be able to be with someone so smart and pretty/handsome.

If it's the opposite, and you ended up failing, instead of one of his many lectures, he tells you it's okay and he'll give you extra help next time.

Slowly starts to rub your thigh or back as you continue giving you kisses here and there.

Hums in acknowledgment as you continue on about your day. Probably moves you from his desk towards his bed.

Lays you down on your stomach and will tells you it's a massage but the slick bastard won't say what kind.

You'll definitely find out once his cold his slip down in to your clothes and start toying with you .

Tells you to keep talking as he continues, if you asked what he's done the only response is: "Don't worry about it sweet thing, why don't you continue where you left off, hm?"

Next thing you know, he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow while still making you tell him about your day, if you stop, he stops.

If you ended up not doing too well in the school day, its a slap on the ass for each thing that you told him.

Pretty much is just comforting then uses it against you.

This is pretty much one of the "softer" ways he gets you in the mood, even if you somehow don't catch on right away.

Mammon:

Once again, Mammon did something to get in trouble. If it wasn't with Lucifer, then probably the witches, or his brothers- maybe even Diavalo.

Regardless, this is probably the right time this week and it wasn't even Wednesday day.

Even Lucifer was shocked how much trouble the second one was being.

After another lecture, Mammon showed up to your room still in a pouty mood from earlier.

The least he wanted was another lecture, which is why before you could even start, he cut you off.

"How 'bout we make a deal, yeah?"

Now you know better then to make deals with him, considering all the other times he made one with that had you ended up being stuffed full and exhausted.

But if it could stop his behavior, then so be it.

For the next 7 days, he acted like an angel. Being nice to his brothers, paying off some debt. Even studying. (Everyone was shocked, even you)

But the real action was when he was with you.

"Ya like it when I'm a good boy, right?"

Acts so submissive and even asks and begs you to do things that he would never had done before.

"Promise I'll be good, I'll always be good for ya, I'm your little mambaby ain't I?"

If you're into it, he'll add a bit of mommy/daddy kink into the mix.

But of course with him m acting like this, how could you not want to treat him let me a good boy?

Always asks if you want him touch, lick , suck or bite a certain part of you, and when you say yes, you think you see Simeon in the purgatory hall.

Of course he totally wasn't trying to plan this. Totally.

Leviathan:

Roleplay all the way with this man.

I feel like this is the only time where he REALLY feels confident.

Starts off with something corny, probably from a video game like "The mighty prince Leviathan, has once again slain the dragon. Now to find the princess/princess!"

You'll be laying on his bed, striking a dramatic pose "Thank you thy knight! For saving me, you shall receive a special award."

"I am glad my great efforts receive such praise, I'll do my best to serve your highness"

Honestly you two being very silly and goofy but turned on nonetheless.

While giggling, he kissing your neck while le giving you a few special marks, calls them protection stamps. (IDK what to call them just something goofy 😭)

Puts you before him, will kiss every part of you and go down, while he does he describes every part of you in such great detail.

"Your majesty brings me such bliss."

"Will the knight let me sit on my throne?''

"You own everything in this kingdom my prince/princess, take what's yours."

The confidence surge in him would be so hot, he's making sure you are definitely treated as a royal should be. Maybe even more then Barbatos treats Diavolo.

Other roleplays could as be a masquerade ball where you two fuck as strangers but turns out you know each other all along.

Forbidden lovers, needing to stay quiet to not get caught.

Or as if you were trapped in a video game, and new to fuck to get out. (This one might actually happen knowing him).

He's a silly stinky otaku but we love him 💕

Satan:

A little similar to Levi.

Maybe after reading a spicy/romance book he gets into the mood.

Starts off quoting after certain books he's read to see if you remember.

When you repeat the other half correctly, he gets so turned on for some reason. If you don't remember he still will but not in the same way. (Sadistic and Satan both start with a S for a reason.)

Depending on if you answer, he'll continue on, the part he's reciting most likely from a smut.

"They lay there, with not a care in the world, unknowing of what the creature lurking might do."

Even if you are getting fucked mercilessly, you still have lines to say!!

"They moaned the creature fucking Them better then any human could."

(Spoiler alert: They love the monster 🤭)

If not roleplay, he'll have your read the book instead, making sure to exactly get to the spicy part.

While you read it aloud, he starts touching you. Slowly rubbing up and down your area, may even go down on you while you read it.

Better yet does the same thing you describe in the book. If the creature is throat fucking the MC, get prepared.

Every single position you also find yourself in, some of these you never knew even existed, but can't help but to moan like a fucking animal.

If the book had pictures, you would match it completely once you were done reading.

He'll continue reading until he gets to another smutty part, in which it's your turn to read.

And mostly likey get your brains fucked out. 👌🏾

Asmodeus:

Ooo boy

When is he not trying to turn you on?

Asmo has a very very high sex drive, which is obvious with how many past partners he's had.

Cause of this, y'all are pretty much fucking 24/7.

Isn't afraid to hide when he wants you, you could be sitting at the dinner table and he'll make direct eye contact while licking a spoon a little to lewdly.

Moans a little too hard when eating a dish and saying it's good. Leans over over gives you a bite too, making sure it gets on your cheek for him to lick away.

If you decide to tease him back, his horniness go up 100x.

After dinner pretend not to remember what happened at the dinner table and go to his room as normal only to get pinned to the wall in a second.

"Mc, I'm so hungry, maybe even hungrier then beel"

Go ahead and let him get that desert, extra cream too please!

Switches and you'll be sucking him off messily. drool and slobber everywhere and loud sucking noise filling the room.

"Mc, your so nasty I love it."

Cums on your face, with some getting on his torso, will look at you with the most innocent eyes and ask you to clean him up.

Whines so much whenever you ride him, gripping onto your hips hard, begging for you to go faster.

He'll sound like he just came out of a hentai, saying things that surprisingly, you only got to hear.

But never ever neglect him for too long, as bold as he is, he'll get even bolder.

In a meeting with Diavolo instead of being with him? Don't worry, he'll tell a good excuse on why you should be with him instead. Maybe even invites the demon prince.

(100% think he talks dirty to you in other languages, whatever language it is, is your choice!)

Beezlebub:

Innocent baby that doesn't realize he's a complete beast in bed. (He does a lil)

Food play doesn't always have to come in here, a lot of times it's whenever you guys are alone together.

Can be very blunt. Just makes eye contact with you and asks "Can I fuck you?"

Or if he wants to be more romantic, he'll get on his knees and rest on your thighs, purring against them. Leaves a few hickies too.

Sucks you off/eats you out always talking about how good you feel.

Now this is where food play can come in. Maybe gets some honey, chocolate syrup, icing. (Icing works best for clean-up imo.)

Licks and slurps it off so messily, moans in delight when he taste your cum in the mix.

"m'still hungry mc, spread it a little more, please?''

Pulls your legs as far as they can to keep licking down there, his tongue can also get longer as he please, so definitely hits all those spots.

When he puts his dick into you, it's a messy make out session. Left over syrup falling from both of your lips, drool dripping down your chins, beel has never felt so full before.

"Mc, you got something on your chest, don't worry, I'll get it for you."

He gets it all right, maybe even does a little bit of a deep clean too.

Tbh, all he needs to do is look at you with those pleading, seemingly innocent eyes and you'll be gone in seconds.

Belphegor:

Since he sleeps a lot, his sex drive won't be high but that doesn't mean he ain't needy.

Ironically, when you're the one sleeping, he's horny.

Can do dream manipulation imo. goes into whatever dream you're having and changes it up a bit to have him in there.

It's a weird one, you're back in the human world in your room about to take a nap, until Belphie comes from under it and grab onto your legs.

"You're not tired yet, are you?"

"It's not fair if you're sleeping and not me, help fall asleep too?"

Slowly you start to wake up as Belphie moves inside of you. Moaning into your ear. You're gonna help him, right?

While he thrusts, you mumble sleepy the words "I'll help you" over and over.

When you cum, he complains," it's not fair that I didn't get to cum yet, so why should you sleep?"

Overstimulates you like crazy, when you start to get a little loud he ask how is he supposed to fall asleep with all the noise.

If you're too quiet, he says he can't call asleep without a little noise in the room.

"m'getting tired, you go on top so I can rest."

Will sit back and seemingly fall asleep while you do the work bouncing up and down.

If you try to stop thinking he's sleep, he thrusts up telling you he isn't done yet and to continue.

"Belphie, I'm tried, can we please continue later?"

"We have school in the morning, mc. I can't go to school without sleep, can I?"

Younger sibling brattiness sure is kicking in right now.

"If you don't want to help anymore, I'll just get beel to help you."

Last time that happened, you couldn't even go to RAD in the morning, to tired and numb to walk.

So go ahead and help little Belphie sleep, okay? It's better when you both fall asleep anyway.

[warlocksoup]

debt: r. suna

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

chapter one

now playing: her and cigarettes by cheap girls

Okay.

There’s about ¥100,000 in her bank account, give or take a couple of hundred. Rent is ¥83,000 and due in three days, which knocks out a pretty big chunk. Electric, gas, and water she paid for earlier this month, so that’s good. The fridge is running pretty bare, almost nothing but impulse orders of takeout leftovers that’ll go bad in just a couple of days, if they’re lucky. Groceries run at about ¥20,000 per trip, but she can pinch there, and it can just be another month where everyone’s dissatisfied with their meals. But then there are those fucking phone bills.

She sits at the kitchen table, a cigarette in one hand and her face in the other. No phones this month, she figures. What the fuck else is she supposed to do.

The paper bills and ripped up envelopes stare back at her, mocking her. Her younger siblings are rushing around her, scrambling to get ready for school and making as much noise as they fucking can while they do it. It’s always fucking something.

“I have another couple of tutoring sessions,” Haru (younger brother #2, age 17, student, smug little shit) says, standing at the open fridge, and then closing it again when he realizes that there’s nothing of substance in there. “That should help.”

“Yeah, what would fucking help is if Ryu paid me that money he owes me,” she says, putting out her cigarette on the jar lid she uses as an ashtray. “The fucker’s been camped out at his girlfriend’s house so he thinks he can just-oh fuck!”

Aya (younger sister #2, age 7, student, brat) runs into the corner of the kitchen, table, shaking the enter thing, and knocking a cup of black coffee into the pile of unpaid bills.  She stands, scrambling to grab at some thin paper towels to clean it up with. “What the fuck Aya?”

The girl’s teary-eyed, like she normally is, but it’s too early in the morning to deal with it. “I can’t find my backpack!” she cries out, as if this is some sort of explanation.

She sighs, too tired for it all and scheduled to be at work in just an hour and twenty minutes. “Fucking. Eri!” she calls out into the void of their three-bedroom apartment.

From the depths, Eri (younger sister #1, age 13, student, literal nightmare), calls back out. “Fucking what?”

“Help your sister find her backpack for school!” she yells, hands still occupied with the mess of bills and hot coffee. She thinks that someone should be helping her, but is not surprised that no one is. That’s usually how it goes.

“I’m busy!” Eri screams back, already annoyed.

She’s wasted half a roll of paper towels by now, she balls it up, and moves to toss it in the trash, half of her hoping she didn’t bundle up any of the bills along with it, the other half of her hoping she did. She passes Haru on her way to the trash. “Haru, help your sister.”

“I can’t,” he says. “I gotta go. I wrote an essay for this rich kid. He’s paying me ¥7,000 for it. I’m meeting him now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Since when are people paying you to write their essays?”

Haru smirks. “Since you stopped being able to pay the bills.”

Her eyes roll, and she raises a hand to gently knock the back of his head. “Alright, fuck off, go get paid,” she says, and with her permission, he’s ducking out the back door before she can blink.

Aya cries out here name, and she turns to face her again. Her face is red, and tear stained. “I don’t wanna get in trouble!”

If she’s really, really honest with herself, and maybe this makes her a bit of a shit sister, she really doesn’t give a fuck if Aya gets in trouble with her teacher or not. Everyone in this house is constantly in trouble, for something, and she just doesn’t have it in her to give a shit if one sibling is getting a scolding.

But it’s sort of her job to take care of it.

She sighs. “Alright, c’mon, let’s find your backpack.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

She stands in the damp air, hair tied up loosely on the top of her head, and phone pressed to her ear. The fry oil from the restaurant she’s serving at combined with the wet stench of the dumpster is nauseating. The phone rings.

“It’s Ryuji. I don’t wanna fucking talk to you. Leave a message.”

Her foot taps against the pavement. The phone beeps. “Hey, you stupid fuck. If you’re gonna up and leave and screw over the rest of us, make sure you pay me back the money you owe me before. Call me back, or I’m sending Suna over there to break your jaw.”

She hangs up and tightens her ponytail before she goes back inside. Her fifteen minutes are up

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Suna reaches over and takes the cigarette from between her lips. She turns her head and glares at him. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

They’re on the rooftop of this abandoned soba restaurant. When they were kids, it was the best place in a four-town radius to get soba, but then the owner went and died from a heart attack about eight years back, and it’s been sitting abandoned ever since.

They used to come here when they were younger, too. Thirteen and discovering cigarettes and how fucking amazing it was to get away from your parents for the first time. They would smoke and eat shrimp chips and run from the cops whenever the owner got fed up with the smell of nicotine wafting down into his restaurant and called them.

It’s gotten a little more peaceful up there for them, since he died.

Suna leans against the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground beneath them, and he grins. “You love me.”

She reaches into the pocket of her sweatshirt for a second one, slightly cursing him under her breath. “Whatever,” she grumbles, flicking the end of her lighter. Smoke enters her lungs again, and she exhales. “By the way, don’t freak out if you can’t reach me this month, like you did last time.”

Suna raises an eyebrow at her. “What, can’t pay your phone bill again?”

She leans her back against the edge of the roof and sinks into it. “Yep.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “gotta get groceries again. More important than answering your texts at three in the goddamn morning, unfortunately.”

Suna shakes his head. “Nah, fuck that. I’m paying your phone bill.”

She shoots him a glare. “Would you piss off? You’re not paying for shit.”

Suna always does this. Slips her money when he thinks she’s not looking. Swiping bills off her counter and calling to pay them once he’s in the safety of his own apartment. She hates it, and she hates that it helps. It wounds her pride, and it makes Suna indispensable to her. It sucks.

And he knows she hates it, too. Which makes it all the more insufferable when he grins, and says, “Yeah, I am.”

“No, Rin, you’re not,” she insists, even though she knows he’s going to do it.

He blows smoke in her face. “What, are you gonna stop me? I’ll kick your ass.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. You’ve gotta stop letting me scam you out of money.”

The night’s cool and fresh. The sky is this dark shade of blue that reminds her of the bruises that seem to be a permanent feature of Suna’s skin. “You’re not scamming me out of anything. I’m providing for you,” he tells her. “Just another reason we should get married.”

She’s gonna throttle him. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Suna persists. She knows he’s serious. He always serious, every single fucking time he brings it up. “You know I’ll take care of you.”

“What about the kids?”

The kids. She says it like they’re hers. Like she had any choice in them ending up on her lap.

Suna shrugs. “I’ll take care of them too.”

“And what happens when someone breaks your face in and kills you in one of your little street fights?”

“Life insurance,” is Suna’s simple answer.

She stares at him, incredulous for a second. “I’m not marrying you,” she says again, because she knows he’s not going to listen to it.

Maybe she would, if things were different. But things are exactly as they are, and all she can do is live with it.

Suna looks back out over the roof. “You will, one day.”

She punches him in the arm, and he yelps. “Would you shut up with this? You’re too broke for me, anyways.”

“Is that all it is?” Suna asks, and his tone is suddenly different. He doesn’t look back at her. “Is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

She thinks about it, for a second. “I dunno,” she replies. “Maybe I’d find other reasons to say no if I had enough money to think about anything else.”

When Suna looks back at her, he’s grinning. “Well, fine. Let’s get you some cash then.”

thank you shameless season one for the inspiration

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @mfcherry @soobin1437 @19calicos @snail-squasher @jadeoru @piapiaweee3 @cannibalsrider @just-coreee @honeekyuu @seroh @syverse @t8tiana @sonicsoloss @cupidsblonde @savemebrazilhinata @linhhs @toges-cough-syrup @s777athv @an-na-bella-blog @moucheslove @droppingthegloves @w4nyoung @theblueslytherin @soulfullystarry @Queer-Flower @starkyu @renkitsune @sunakeiji @renardiererin @honeycrispappletree @asthmaticcchoeee @aquariarose @s1ncerelyy0urs @holaseniorahoe @softpia @akaashislovee @iiwaijime @Whatisnerotypical @megmercury @myeomiz @strxwberri-s @thecoolestlia @kr1nqu @whorefornoodles @iluv-ace

[marblebarble]

Sun - Peter Pan/gn Reader

warnings // none. this is more or less a comfort read for anybody who needs it.

"Come away with me," he said. "Come away, and they'll never make us go anywhere or do anything ever again."

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It is very common knowledge that life isn't fair.

As a child, you understood that before a lot of your friends did. You were forced to grow up fast. You were always a little different, a little misplaced, and often alone. School was a place of stress and home wasn't as sweet as they made it look in the movies.

When you were a little kid, you'd escape into stories; Worlds of adventure and wonder where you could be whatever you wanted. You could save princesses and princes. You could sail a raft through storms using the stars. You could fly.

But stories don't protect you from the world. You had to let them go eventually. So life became studying and applications, part time jobs and debt, losing touch with your few friends and constantly grappling with the feeling that you'd lost *something* a long time ago.

It was a winter night and you sat in your car, far away from home. The stupid thing had broken down on you, and you'd just managed to pull to the side of the road in the middle of a town you didn't recognize. You shivered and climbed into the backseat, bundling up in your jacket and praying that you'd fall asleep before the chill began to ache your bones.

After a while, for seemingly no reason at all, you began to cry. Softly, with the tears being the only thing to warm your cheeks. It was just so dark, so freezingly uncomfortable, and you'd just realized that there was nothing in your life that you really wanted to return to.

What were you missing? You weren't a child anymore, so why did you still feel this way? Why couldn't you just be normal, like every other functioning human being on the planet? Why did you feel so heavy?

Suddenly, something else was warming your cheek- a soft hand caressing your face and wiping a tear away.

You jolted, automatically jumping to the other side of the back seat. You stared at the window, which you didn't remember rolling down. Outside of the car was the face of a boy.

It was hard to make out his features for two reasons. One, it was dark.

Two, he was hanging upside down.

But hanging from what? The top of your car?

Either way, his bright eyes peered at you with an unruly head of hair hanging from his head. You were too startled (and cold) to speak.

"Hello, angel," he said softly. His voice was... warm, and somehow inherently playful.

You stared at him in confusion. "...what?"

"You're an angel," he said sincerely, cocking his head to the side. "Aren't you?"

".....what?" You leaned forward a little, trying to get a better view of him. "Why are you... How are you...?"

As if suspended in tue air, his head turned upright like a dial and you had to guess that the rest of his body was turning with it. "You're cold," he observed simply. He flashed an inherently boyish smile. "Sillly one. You're not wearing any furs. If you stay like that, you're just asking to get sick."

You blinked at him before sniffling. You looked out of the windows and saw that there were no nearby houses with the lights on, nor any cars stopped nearby. He must have just wandered up to you from the road. Maybe he was hitchhiking, or homeless. Either way, he seemed harmless enough, and it was absolutely freezing outside. "I'm sorry," you said gently, "you must be cold, too. Do you want to sit in here until morning?"

The boy looked at you curiously before nodding. You opened the door and he poked his head in suspiciously. He looked around as if he'd never been inside a car before. He crawled carefully inside and sat next to you, shutting the door behind him.

You could see him much better, now. He seemed the same age as you, probably in his late teens. His clothes were... strange. You were slightly more convinced that he was homeless, now. The dirt smudged on his skin attested to that.

"I can turn the heater on," you offered, "but only for a while."

He turned to look at you. "Why were you crying?" He asked, ignoring your words. "I didn't know angels cried."

Despite yourself, you gave a small smile. "I'm not an angel," you said, feeling silly.

He quirked his brow and smiled as if he didn't believe you. "Yes, you are. I've heard stories about them. They're strong and beautiful, like mermaids with wings. And they sing, too! You sing. I've heard you."

You blinked at him, before realizing that you'd been trying to hum yourself to sleep while you'd been crying. He must have heard you through the window.

He might have been crazy, but something about him charmed you. As the two of you spoke, you exanged stories about home. You told him about the stress, about making other people happy and struggling all the time. He would interject only to ask questions- more than once inquiring if any of this made you happy. More than once, you found yourself being depressingly honest.

He told you stories about his home. You didn't believe it for a second, but he seemed to believe it, so you didn't protest. He came up with adventures about pirates and mermaids, about living on a magic island where the winter never came and all the things that had ruined this world never made it to the shores of Neverland.

You couldn't help but listen to him eagerly, like a child absorbing stories they knew could not be real but loved anyway.

It was evident that he loved talking to you. He became animated, miming things out with his hands and reenacting swordfights the best he could in the cramped space of the car. When you laughed, he glowed.

He talked about the boys that he lived with- either friends or maybe siblings of his. He spoke about one of them, who had told him about angels in the first place.

"He told me that angels lose their wings sometimes," he continued. His bright eyes scanned you with interest. "I think you lost yours. Unless you're hiding them beneath your coat, but I don't think they'd fit under there- unless you have little wings like a fairy. But you're too big-"

Suddenly, a firefly zipped in through the window. It flew over the boy's head and began flying around the inside of the car. It even flew into your face, and you gave a little yelp.

The boy chuckled and picked the bug out of the air, holding it in his palm. "I told you to let me talk to them. You don't make good first impressions."

The bug chimed back at him, talking like the sound of a bell.

"No, that's not what I- Well, yes, Tink, but- Okay, okay! You can have one look, but then you've got to let us be. You promised."

The firefly fluttered out of his hand and once again passed by your face. It settled down on your knee. You had half a mind to swat it away, but as you stared at it, you began to see a strange shape in the glow.

Your eyes widened and you gasped. It was a little... person. A fairy. She perched atop your knee and looked up at you, studying you appraisingly. She turned to look at the boy and spoke with her chiming voice in way you could not understand.

"I'm Peter."

You turned to look at the boy and he grinned at you. "Peter Pan. Her name's Tinkerbell, but she also answers to 'royal inconvenience'."

The fairy shook her hand at him and seemed to be scolding him. A sense of wonder filled you and you laughed at the sheer strangeness of the situation. "Oh, hello, Tinkerbell." You looked at her with your eyes shimmering and looked back to Peter. "She's very pretty."

The fairy seemed pleased at that. She flew up to your cheek, patted it kindly, as then began to explore the rest of your car. She seemed to enjoy looking through the miscellaneous trinkets in your glove box.

"That's a fairy," you whispered, watching her excitedly. "A real one. Oh my god."

But Peter only watched you. Something twinkled in his eyes, something knowing that seemed beyond his years and seperate from his boyishness.

"Angels don't belong with other people," he said. "They belong in the sky. In a good place, with other angels like them."

You weren't sure what to say, so he kept going. "I have a shadow. He's a quick, mischievous thing, but he completes me, I guess. You, however."

He scooted forward, ignoring any common semblance of personal space between strangers. His eyes scanned you curiously. "You look like you are a shadow. Like the bright part of you has been put away into another room. Maybe it's gone back up to the sky, or maybe you lost it when you lost your wings."

You still weren't sure what to say. Without any warning, you felt the tears want to well up, again. He saw it, and frowned with sympathy. He reached a hand out and caressed your face, the same way he had before. You closed your eyes and melted into the warmth. "Don't cry. It's okay. Please, don't cry."

You sniffled and hid your face in your hands. You heard him shuffle around in the crambed back seat, before he pulled you into his arms and held you to him. He was so warm, like the sun sat inside of him. He put one hand on your head and tucked you beneath his chin.

"It's too cold for an angel, here," he said. "Let me take you somewhere warm."

You chuckled gently. " 'm not an angel."

"A fairy, then. You're a little fairy who can't fly. They won't let you fly, here. They can't teach you how."

He pushed away to look at you. "But I can," he said proudly. "I can show you."

Tinkerbell's voice chimed, and you both watched as she zipped around the car before zooming out of the window. She did circles around you, shining like a shooting star through the windows. It was beautiful.

Then, she aimed up towards the sky and never came back down

"Where is she going?" You whispered.

"Home," laughed Peter. He opened the door and crawled out excitedly. He took your hand and pulled you with him. "If we go now, we can get there before morning. I can show you the stars, and we can help hunt for breakfast, as maybe even ruin Hook's beauty sleep-"

But he tugged at your hand and staggered. He looked back at you. You weren't moving. You were still in the car.

You looked at him with a strange feeling brewing inside. Not a good one. A fearful, doubt filled one.

He knew that look and smiled at you, shaking his head. "You just have to believe silly one," he said. "You just have to think happy thoughts and trust me. The rest is easy."

But you still did not budge.

He sighed and let your hand go. "Alright. But don't act all suprused."

And without warning, he rocketed from the ground.

You watched in pure awe as he flew through the street, looping around lamp poles and wire towers. He giggled as he went, and brought the biting wind with him.

It was exhilarating.

He dropped to the ground before you. He kneeled down and held your hands in his.

"You," he said, still panting from his laughter, "are a lost one. I just know it. I can feel it. You'd be perfect with us. We'd have fun every day and every night. There's still time to escape," he whispered. "There's still time. We can be free."

He stood up, keeping your hands in his. He walked backwards, and you left the safety of the car, walking with him, mesmerized.

"Second star to the right and straight on till morning. You cant miss it. We'll outrun the dawn, if we go fast enough."

He squeezed your hands and the biting cold wind whipped at your side. You ignored it completely.

"Come away with me," he said. "Come away, and they'll never make us go anywhere or do anything ever again."

His feet began to lift from the ground. His eyes glimmered like stars. His hand was warm in your's.

"Come with me, angel. Come back to the sky."

You looked up at him, and it felt like staring into space itself. Like staring into the sun.

"I know you can still fly," he promised. "I'll let you in on a secret. You don't need wings."

And without any effort at all, your feet lifted.

[boyinatown]

Can I request Johan having his first time with the reader who's been with him throughout his life & has been his best friend but now he can finally show how he feels towards them? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻Thank you bestie ☺️

A/N : I hate this faggot.

I didn’t know what u meant with “ first time” so I assume it’s sex, the only thing y’all come to my page for. ( sluts ) idk how to write him either so if it’s a little off my bad.

Warning: Smut, nsfw , 18+

Pairing: Johan Seong x GN reader.

Johan seong was your best friend, and you were his. Wherever he went you stood at his side, he was wary at first but as time flew by he noticed you hadn’t strayed off yet. Occasionally visiting his moms shop with him, she knew you were his friend and ranted the whole entire time about him cutting his hair not knowing it was her son who was in the chair holding his emotions back.

He was stubborn, a very challenging person , he had guts and didn’t think twice of his choices always doing what felt right to him. It led him to problems, he’d dissapear for weeks , months , then return to you as if nothing happened. Despite your strong bond with him and knowing he won’t leave you behind alone , you were still afraid.

Taking it upon yourself to try and help him with his problems such as paying the hospital bills for his mother, his eyes problem and with the dogs he has. Not to mention his huge debt he owed to some people chasing after him , ofcourse you did this behind his back. You could also be stubborn, he just didn’t know it.

Or so you thought , when you walked back into your apartment after not seeing Johan for weeks he stood at the entrance of the door arms crossed , not happy with how tired your state was. Looks like you hadn’t eaten anything before going to your 3 jobs, not taking any time for yourself occupied with work and school.

“Why are you so distant these days? Are you mad at me, that it? If so, I apologize.” Johan paused watching you put down your stuff at the door running to him with opened arms engulfing him in a hug as if he’d run off if you didn’t let go, he melted into your touch letting his head rest on your shoulder , your hand stroking his hair. “Was worried f’you thought something happened to you.” he smiled hearing your mumbled voice in his neck.

Inhaling your scent he acted to his own feelings arms sneaking down lower , now his figure hiding yours under his hold, he threw you over his shoulder grabbing a hold of your thighs to make sure you didn’t budge or fall, kicking your bedroom door open he set you down on the bed taking off his jacket. Before you could open your mouth his lips pressed against yours swallowing your noise. Tongue fighting with yours not giving you time to adjust being forced just to let him do whatever he wanted. When Johan pulled away you were such a beautiful sight under him, confused , yet turned on not knowing what you wanted.

He was your best friend, sure he was attractive and you often dreamed off him on those lonely nights hand slipping underneath your pants to touch wherever it felt right moaning his name into your pillow crying your hands not doing the job right.

Though you’d never admit that to him, Johan started undressing you when he noticed you weren’t aware deep in your mind, his kisses trailed from your face, neck to your stomach gripping your hips , he rubbed his tip against your inner thigh looking down at you “Tell me, can I continue? Wanna show you how much I’ve missed you.” He looked at you with such pleading eyes , his dick just begging to enter you, with a small nod you hiss at the feeling of him stretching you out slowly. “Fuckkk…I knew you’d feel good, but damn….-“ he was focused watching his tip slide out then his cock disappear inside you once again.

You arched your back grabbing at his wrists that held your hips to ground yourself , slowly grinding back for more friction, you wanted more, needed more. Voice not working with you , grabbing his arm with such desperate eyes he stopped moving lips curling into a smile “ What is it? If you don’t tell me I won’t know.”

“Johan—“

“What?” He responded speeding his thrusts throwing your legs over his shoulders deepening inside you, biting his lower lip sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead , the bed creaked underneath you two threatening to break. Flying arms grab his back , he leaned over you to whisper stuff against your ear that he KNEW would send you over the edge. His thrusts never faltering , he was more fucking you as a punishment then wanting to tell you he missed you.

“Fuck..faster!—“

“No, not faster. Deeper, like This.” Emphasizing on the word this he somehow managed to fold you deeper into the mattress now going tougher harder and deeper then before , you were losing your mind scratching his back decorating it with your marks he’d look at in the morning proud of his work.

“M’gonna..gonna! “ when you moaned the warning Johan didn’t care he kept going he wanted to feel you cum on him, he needed to see your face , he has to, otherwise he’d start over he doesn’t mind, he loves the warmth of you anyways.

A few more pounds and you were coming undone on him yelling his name from the top of your lungs , grabbing the sheets beside you anything to ground yourself from the orgasm you had, Johan kept pounding away ignoring your cries of ‘ too much!’ ‘ sensitive!’

he needed to finish inside you, the sight burning it into his mind for when he’s away again from you to give him an ego boost and a reason to come back to someone, it wasn’t long until Johan also came throwing his head back long strings of ‘ fuuuuck—‘ till you felt his semen fill you, spilling out from you wetting the sheets below you both, Johan fell on you panting laughing.

“You smell, get off off me..”

“A thank you would be nice, I just gave you the orgasm of your life.” Johan responded to your joke with a smile rolling off you looking at you , stroking your cheek with the back of his hand wiping some tears away from your eyes.

“Thanks , Johan.”

This was the toughest smut I ever wrote I think.

Also his twin:

[sailorstar9]

Running Into The Ex-girlfriend At The School Reunion

“Hyoma...” Shika Sotomi, Chigiri's girlfriend for three months, sang. “Let's go together. Aw man, we're gonna be in different classes in 3rd Year. I'm so sad.”

“We're in the same school.” Chigiri reminded, the couple was walking to the Rajitsu Tech soccer club. “We can see each other any time.”

“That's not what I'm trying to say.” Shika pouted. “You're the school's top player, you're gonna go pro when you're older.”

“Sorry, Hyoma.” Shika called out after school some time later. “I promised to hang with a friend today. I can't go home with you.”

“Got it.” Chigiri waved her apologies off and headed off for soccer practice.

“Sorry, I've got a new boyfriend.” Shika called Chigiri out shortly after he tore his ASL. “Let's break up.”

“Boyfriend?” the redhead was taken aback. “You 'have' one, even though we haven't even broken up?”

“Keisuke-kun asked me to go out with me yesterday.” Shika shrugged. “I didn't wanna let him get away because he's got more potential than you. Anyway, now that you're injured, I have no use for you anymore.”

Time passes, in the Manshine City soccer team hostel...

25-year-old Chigiri received an email on his personal laptop, an invitation to the upcoming high school reunion.

After much consideration and discussion with the older Wanima twin, he accepted the invitation.

On the day of the school reunion...

“Chigiri, I didn't think you'll come to things like this, so I'm surprised.” one of Chigiri's former female classmates greeted. “Long time.”

“Listen and be shocked.” Wanima Junichi piped in. “Both Chigiri and myself are players in the Manshine City soccer team.”

“That's amazing.” the women gushed. “I knew you two were great at soccer and I thought you'd become something great.”

“So, are you single now?” one of the braver women pressed. “I'm currently looking for a boyfriend.”

“I also broke up with my boyfriend last year.” another woman added. “Are you free tonight?”

“Hyoma!” Shika called out and everyone turned around.

“I didn't see Sotomi's name on the invite list.” Junichi was confused as everyone took in Shika's rather unstylish outfit.

“I came to see you.” Shika spoke. “I want to talk.”

“We can talk here.” Chigiri stood his ground.

“That's okay.” Shika stammered. “That's great. You're a professional soccer player? You were always great at soccer.”

“How do you know that?” Chigiri asked.

“Junichi-san is always in contact with his younger brother, so I confirmed it with Keisuke-kun." Shika answered. "Hyoma, let's start over.”

“What?” Chigiri echoed in disbelief. “Now, with me? You were the one who said Wanima Keisuke had more potential than me.”

“Sorry, I was wrong.” Shika wailed. “I learned that it means nothing to just have potential in high school.”

“So, it's all about money?” the other women realized that it was all about.

“I didn't say that.” Shika protested.

“Didn't your last boyfriend see you only as an ATM? He made you spend money on him and then tossed you away after he drained you dry and leaving you with all his debt.” a female classmate explained. “Money is indeed important, but it's a little too good to be true to change your mind about a person you made fun of right after they make money.”

“You were saying that?” Junichi snapped. “Now you want to get back together because you have no money. It's too coincidental.” he moved the entire party to another table. “Shika still hasn't gone home yet.” he noticed the lone Shika drinking in the corner. “She hasn't given up on you yet.”

“I'm going to the restroom.” Chigiri excused himself.

“Hyoma.” Shika cornered the speedster outside the men's toilet. “You were in front of everyone else, so you couldn't say how you really felt, right?” she snuggled up to Chigiri. “I know you well. That's why I wanted to talk alone. You still like me, right? I'll go out with you. You've always been relaxed, so your feelings aren't obvious.” she continued, despite Chigiri slapping her off him. “But in high school, I felt that you liked me. You just can't express how you feel, right? It's okay. I get you.”

“I struggle to understand why you think I still like you.” Chigiri retorted. “First of all...”

“Hyo-kun.” F/N called out, a two-year-old toddler in her arms.

“You just came?” Chigiri walked over. “How did you know I was here?”

“Keiichi woke up from his jet-lag and started wailing for his daddy.” F/N replied. “Wanima-kun told me you were in the restroom. And that Satomi-san had chased after you.”

“Hyoma?” Shika splattered, seeing Chigiri's arm around F/N's waist

“I'm already married to F/N.” Chigiri explained. “And as you can see, we have a son.”

“What?” Shika exclaimed. “What's so good about that plain wallflower? I'm... my skin is a little dry right now, but if I go back to my normal lifestyle and work on myself, I'm beautiful. I'm so much better than her.”

“You still talk like that.” Chigiri sighed. “Before she went for that Germany scholarship after I tore my ASL, she made me a senbazuru; there's no way you can beat F/N. She wrote an encouraging quote in each and every origami paper. Also, I don't choose people based on looks. When we were going out, I liked you because you were honest. But, you changed. Those who can only look at people's qualifications will attract the same type. You brought this upon yourself. We're leaving.”

“So cute...” returning the reunion table, all the women cooed over Keiichi. “I knew F/N had all of us beat when she left that senbazuru to Chigiri.”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

By god do I just need to scream into the ether about the Heart and co. confrontation scene.

First, the tension, incredible. Gemini and Fourth are phenomenal actors. Heart and Li Ming know they are walking in to a very emotionally fraught situation and their hesitation is palpable.

It's scene breakdown time babyyyy! Let's start from the beginning

For a boy who admitted last episode that he has no idea what he is doing, he sure keeps doing things right. He's letting Heart know he's going to talk. Now, granted I don't know what he is saying here precisely if he is just simply saying "I'm going to talk for us/first", "I'll interpret," or if he's saying "I'm going to talk?", I don't think his face moves in any way that would imply a question, but his face is partially obscured. Either way he is at the very least keeping Heart in the know, and at the most asking for Heart's explicit consent to lead this conversation. You can't see it from pictures, but I appreciate the fact that before they cut back to the wide shot, Heart nods, so we as an audience, and Li Ming as the speaker here knows that Heart is okay with the power dynamics at play, with Li Ming talking for both of them.

It's a blink and you'll miss it moment, thankfully I'm obsessed with this scene and therefore have been looping it endlessly, but I feel compelled to point out the way eye contact in this moment goes a long way in conveying how Heart's Mom and Li Ming view Heart. When Heart's mother points to her son she doesn't even look at him. The most she does is cast a downward glance at his bandage, and that's before she even points. And you can argue all you want that she doesn't look at him because she's specifically talking to and addressing Li Ming. But I call bullshit on that because Li Ming is specifically talking to and addressing Heart's mother, and he's looking straight in to Heart's eyes when he refers to and gestures towards Heart. I'm sure that both of these characters believe they love and care about Heart, but of these two characters which one actually recognizes Heart's personhood?

But uh oh! Li Ming stood up for himself and for Heart, and talked back to not just an adult, but a powerful adult. And now she's mentioning past debts, and now there will be more to pay as a result. And Li Ming can only work so much with school and life and everything. He clearly doesn't know what he's getting himself in to, or what he has gotten himself in to. Li Ming and Heart's Mom are both getting angry, tensions are rising, something needs to happen to de-escalate the situation or this might go wrong. Uncle Jim absolutely must intervene (I hope you can hear the sarcasm in my voice). Interesting note: Guess who else doesn't look at their child when making a decision for them. Jim does look at Li Ming directly after this though, but it's to ask him why he did it. It's to place the blame for the accident on Li Ming. "You Li Ming, why did you do it?" "Heart asked me to." "Stop saying that."

Jim is scared, Li Ming is pissed. "He was bored at home" "I said stop!" Jim is used to the way powerful and wealthy people can control and punish the poor. Jim and Li Ming have had conversations before that indicate this very mindset. Jim has mentioned power to Li Ming before and Li Ming's response has always been "what, so we just let them?" "He's a police officer so he can just do anything he wants to us?" to a young adult like Li Ming, this is an absurdity, to an older man like Jim, this is a reality. "he can just do anything he wants to us?" the answer is yes. Which is why Jim is so desperate to get Li Ming to stop talking here. But it just serves as a reminder to Li Ming that Jim thinks he's a child, and that he needs all his battles fought for him. If Li Ming doesn't keep pushing, nothing is going to change (social and political commentary anyone?)

"There you go again," Heart's mother says, and this is Li Ming's initial reaction. This moment of annoyance and anger that this woman who doesn't even know him is once again accusing him of something he didn't do. This woman who is pointing once again to her son without even a glance in his direction "You know that he's mute, so you can say whatever you want?" First of all, even people who are mute have ways to communicate, so it's not like even if he was mute Heart would be helpless. Hell, even if Heart was mute he still has fucking sign language.

The face of a woman who was, in fact, not aware that deaf people dislike being called mute.

GUESS WHO FINALLY LOOKS AT HER SON AFTER THAT!!!! Please please if the writers are kind and merciful, this will be the point in the show where Heart's mother does so deep deep introspection and realizes how much she has fucked up. "He's just deaf," Li Ming says, loudly, and he steps forward, to try to engage Heart's mom in further conversation, in more dialogue. And what does Jim do? Pulls him back, takes him off his even footing "I said stop,"

The face of a man who is very scared for the trouble his nephew might be getting himself in to, and the face of his nephew who is very disappointed that his uncle keeps not only backing down, but forcing him to back down as well. Who keeps asking him, in these small ways to lie instead of tell the truth. To remain quiet, to take the blame, to stick to the status quo.

And then the part I hate (emotionally) begins. Heart asks Li Ming to tell him what they're saying. And I hate it because Heart's parents refusing to learn sign language does not only hurt Heart but it hurts everyone around him, themselves included. But specifically here, it hurts Li Ming, because he has to be the one to look Heart in the face and repeat the words his mother said, knowing that to do so will hurt Heart. Knowing that he has to be the one to hurt Heart.

And this moment is also a great reminder for the audience as well that no one else knowing sign language creates really uncomfortable power dynamics between the person who is able to interpret and the Deaf person. Because Li Ming is hesitant to repeat it. Heart has to repeatedly grab his arm, repeatedly ask Li Ming to tell him what was said. Li Ming has absolute power over Heart right now, to refuse to say it, or to flat out lie. He doesn't, but it also should not be Li Ming's decision whether or not Heart knows, accurately, what was said. Even after we see it in his face that Li Ming agrees to translate, he still hesitates for a few seconds to move, to reach for the notepad, to have to write it down.

And once he writes it down, Li Ming's eyes do not leave Heart. He is honed in on Heart, on Heart's face, on his shoulders, hell even on the back of his head until Heart asks him to translate. And god as much as I hate this moment in the scene for the pain that it causes Li Ming, I hate it even more for the pain that it causes Heart.

He is fucking livid. Rightfully so, because HE'S NOT FUCKING MUTE, HE'S HAD LANGUAGE THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME. He just wants to live his life like everyone else AND HE HAS TO TELL HIS PARENT'S THAT USING SOMEONE ELSE'S VOICE. Because they have refused to use his own. GOD. I'll be surprised if anyone makes it this far down in the post but I just...AHHHH I have no coherent thoughts about this moment, I just....Heart's parents do fucking better. Damn. And the worst part of this scene is yet to come because his Mom tries for like 0.2 seconds, but it looks like she's going to start signing something and Heart just looks SO surprised.

He's so focused on it, he's paying so much attention to it. Is this it? Is this the moment he finds out that his mother has actually been trying? That she has learned and is ready to start using sign language with him? To talk to him, to understand him?

No.

She can't do it. She doesn't know how to. And it's just..it's so easy to see how much hope he had for just a second, how much that one millisecond of effort obliterated all the logic in his head that told him they didn't know it, they didn't care. And how quickly that disappointed anger snaps right back in to place. So Heart starts talking, in sign language, like he has been able to do for years, and he speaks his mind, and his mother still can't understand him. And we see the same dynamic here as with the "mute" comment. Heart's Mom wants Li Ming to translate, Heart wants Li Ming to translate, Li Ming knows how hurt Heart is, and yeah, probably some of his hesitation in voicing what Heart said is because he knows what Heart said will hurt her. But more so because I think it hurts Li Ming to know how much pain Heart is in.

God, poor Heart, literally having to beg to be heard.

"He said you are ashamed of him being deaf,"

His mother shakes her head and says "Heart, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, dear," and therein lies the problem. She doesn't know what to say, she never has. She has never bothered to learn how to communicate with him since he went deaf. She has kept him locked away. And it doesn't matter if she thinks she did that to keep him safe, Heart feels like he's being hidden away. And she doesn't say "No. No I'm not ashamed. I have never been ashamed." she doesn't know what to say. Because she can't say that. She can't deny that, and it just confirmed everything that Heart has known. So he leaves, because that's too much to handle.

Bullshit 'he'll be fine, honey'. Your fucking son just told you that you never bothered to learn sign language in THREE FUCKING YEARS, and stormed away after admitting that he feels like you are ashamed of him, and you think no need to go after him, he'll be fine??? Fuck you. ACAB.

Does this...

look like...

he's fine, to you?

No. I didn't think so.

I don't really feel like I need to say much about this last shot. It stands on its own so strongly. Mirrors reflecting back, Heart and Li Ming only ever being able to see each other, to be seen by each other. Warm light at Heart's back, Li Ming in front of him, sandwiched between warmth in all of that blue, isolating coldness. All that evidence of how much time and the energy Heart has spent learning sign language. I don't know what the post-its say, I don't know that I want to know.

I don't know if they are notes Heart has written to himself when he was learning, and this is just what remains of his effort. Honestly I hope it's that, because if it is what I think it is, general, every day responses that he might have to give in reply to his parents that he can just pull off his wall and return, that is so much fucking worse. Because then its just the evidence of all the effort Heart has put in to communicate with his parents on their level when they have not put in the same effort to communicate on his. Even if it's something cute, even if it's all the notes that he and Li Ming have passed back and forth to each other over the last few months, serving as a reminder that someone cares, you still are left with the heartbreaking shot of two young men, desperate to be understood by their families, only having each other to hold on to, surrounded by reminders that they are the only two people that can understand each other. No matter how hard they try.

[kiefbowl]

i made a string of really dumb financial decisions and now im in debt that might take me years to pay off, do you have any words of wisdom for me queen. like that feels bad. how do i even save up. imagine flushing a pile of money down the toilet thats what this debt it

I know how that feels, believe me. A lot of people do. I'm feeling the pain of my 9 month school loans, and credit cards I had already paid off back "on" again (one in particular is pretty high...whooooops).

Don't lose your cool, I have a couple of flexible suggestions that you take, use, and modify to your specifics:

Tithe yourself - if your job does direct deposit (which most do!), you can direct deposit your money into multiple accounts. Get it set up so your paycheck goes 90% into your checking account, 10% into your savings account so that you're not even thinking about it. You might feel the squeeze for a little bit but you'll acclimate to that "missing" 10% sooner than you think.

Ask for a raise - if you're working, ask for a raise. If you're new, or maybe not that "great", or they're penny-pinchers, or you're just nervous to ask, don't even worry about it. Ask for 3% - this is low, and most jobs will give it to you just for the convenience of getting you to stop bothering them about it (if they can't afford 3%, run run run). For context, if you make $10 an hour, a 3% raise only gives you $12.00 more each week. It's really not much, but not nothing! If you're NOT worried about asking a raise, go all in! Ask for 10%, maybe even 15%. Flex some negotiation skills. Maybe you'll walkaway with 7%, but every penny counts.

Get yourself on auto payments [at the smallest amounts you can] - if you've got credit cards, log in right now and get yourself on auto payments for the smallest amount. If you've got student loans, do the same thing. If you've got utility bills, get them on auto pay. These things take 3 minutes to set up, and there are phone numbers to call if you can't figure it out. These companies WANT you to do this, they will help you get it done.

Work off the smallest amount you owe first [aggressively] - Let's say you have a $60 parking ticket, a credit card you owe $400 on, and three student loans that are currently at $6,000 & $7,000 & $10,000. Forget the student loans right now, you've got them on autopay for the smallest amount you can get away with. First, pay off that $60 parking ticket with your next pay check before it becomes a $200 ticket and a court appearance. Now you can focus on the paying off the $400 aggressively. Your minimum payments will still go off, but every time you get a paycheck, long on and pay an additional amount to the credit card (something you can manage and will also feel good to your brain - $50 feels good when you're thinking of your debit in hundreds for example). Once you've got that paid off, now you can aggressively pay off your $6,000. Don't worry about the other two. Just focus on the smallest amount you owe. Each paycheck, payoff a chunk of your smallest debt. It'll get exciting after awhile, like yes I get paid I can make that credit card even smaller. Gamify it, whatever.

Stop worrying about how long it will all take - Only worry about the smallest amount of debt you owe and how (reasonably) fast you can get that paid off. That $400 credit card, if you can spare $100 each pay check - that's only 4 paychecks. That's not too long, right? That's the way to think of time and debt: how much can you spare each paycheck to pay off your lowest debt.

Ask for help - do not punish yourself by lying to your parents and friends. Tell your friends you can't do fancy dinners because you are paying off debt and can't afford it. Real friends will bring over a pizza to hang with you. Your parents might be willing to send you a check without you asking for it. Don't feel guilty about monetary gifts, just take it. Go to a bank and talk about their consolidation options. Bring a third party so you aren't dazzled by sales pitches. Consolidation loans aren't objectively good or bad, they can be a life saver if they have the right terms that work for you. Don't think it's over your head! Ask as many questions until you understand all your options.

Buy smart, stop suffering - this really should be like 4 different bullet points, but I'm going to be as concise as possible: you'll never get out of debt if you spend your money without purpose, and you'll never get out under the yoke of anxiety that you fucked up if you just squirrel your money away in fear. A lot of people will give you advice that you need to put yourself on a tight, punishing budget. Maybe, but I think those are doomed to fail for most people. And now you feel twice as bad. Don't do that to yourself. Learning the value of $10 is important. So it learning the value of $100, or $1,000. And the best way to learn is to practice buying and using your money - there's a cheap $1,000 and an expensive $10, and you have to learn how much value you are getting out of these amounts for these purchases. If you punish yourself all week, and then allow yourself a "little treat" on Sunday - that doesn't feel worthwhile to me. Those little treats will grow every day. Soon you're stopping at Starbucks every day for "just $10" and your Sunday treat has become a weekly blow out brunch with friends and then week to week you're scrounging to eat Top Ramen and lamenting your dreams are dying. Instead, save money by spending money on things worthwhile that make you budget for them. Go sign up for those yoga classes you want, go sign up for those guitar lessons you want, go sign up for those art lessons you want, whatever it is. Whatever brings value to your life. Your $70 a week yoga membership can now be valued against your $70 week at Starbucks, and as your pockets pinch one hopes you'll choose the yoga over the Starbucks because one hopes that the yoga is serving you better. Or maybe yoga is ass and you want to spend it on Starbucks, at least now you know. Though I recommend your local coffee shop, as Starbucks is a union busting piece of shit corporation :)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For insisting on not paying past due library fines?

When I (nonbinary) was about 7 or so years old, I had a book report due for school and I needed to borrow some books from the library to do it. My mom took me to borrow some. My mom told me when I was done we could go back and return them before they were due back (which would be the next day). My mom took the books when I was done, put them aside to bring back the next day, and then promptly forgot. I reminded her a few times and she said she'd bring them back after she got out from work while I was at school. I believed her, until a handful of years later when I was looking to borrow one of her novels to read in high school, and I saw them buried at the bottom of a box in her closet. I talked to her about it and she said "well it's too late now, it's fine they won't care because it's been years" and I believed her. I didn't bother again with the library until about last year or so (I was 24) when I wanted to replace my old library card so that my daughter (4 at the time) could borrow some books. I am VERY good at returning the things I borrow from anyone on time because I panic and get paranoid if I don't, so I wasn't worried about making the same mistake my mom did.

The library did not see it that way. Because the books when I was 7 were taken out under my name, those debts were not my mom's- they were mine. They told me I was not allowed to replace or use a library card until I paid off my fines. I owed about $200 apparently. I told them that I was only 7 years old when I borrowed those books and that I had no way of returning them on my own without a parent or guardian, and that my parent had failed to help me return them on time. That shouldn't be on me, because again, I was 7. And I didn't realize they were never returned until nearly 10 years later. They kept saying that I had to pay the debt, and that my daughter would never be allowed to have a library card until I paid my debt or she was an adult, whichever came first.

I'm 25 now, my daughter is 5, and I've still been trying to fight off this debt, because it doesn't seem fair. I especially can't pay it now, I live off of disability and foodstamps and live in a shared shelter agreement with a family member. But my daughter loves reading, and I want her to be able to utilize the library. I also would like to start reading again, and borrowing books is the easiest way for me to do so.

My family keeps saying how I should just either pay it off or let it go, that I'm a "Karen" for bothering the librarians about this so much. I don't like being rude to people, I've been about as polite (and apparently timid according to my partner) as I possibly can be about this, so I'm really worried that me fighting this has been making it harder and stressful for the librarians. Am I the asshole? Should I just stop and let it go?

What are these acronyms?