#i’m really tired guys. like really tired

[puck-luck]

I would like to make a request 🗣️🗣️ luke and a meet cute at a club or party and luke takes her back to his place 🕶️

thank you for your consideration

warnings: use of Y/N, consumption of alcohol, dancing without leaving room for jesus, public sex, rough!luke, oral sex m!receiving (facefucking), praise, dirty talk, consumption of cum, hair pulling, probably missed some stuff but. oh well.

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

wc: 3,717

“Y/N, he’s been looking over here all night. If you don’t go up to him, I will,” your friend threatens. 

You know who she’s talking about– the tall brunet with the curls near the dartboard in the quiet corner of the bar. He’s been with his group of friends the whole night, nursing beer bottle after beer bottle, and you keep making eye contact with him. You’ve actually turned from him so that you can focus on your friends, determined to not make the first move on this guy.

However, the jig is up. Your friends are tired of waiting. They want to see something happen.

“Look, he’s going to the bar now,” another friend says. “Go get a new drink and talk to him!”

They urge you to finish your current drink quickly and shoo you along, physically pushing you from the group towards the bar.

“Alright, alright, fine,” you concede, leaving your empty glass on the table and walking towards the bar. You make your way to the bar, sidling up next to the man. He seems taller when you stand next to him, so you throw a look over your shoulder towards your friends, mouth gaping and eyebrows curved to convey how impressed you are. You tap your fingers on the bar while you wait for the bartender, bouncing on your tiptoes slightly. 

The bartender goes to the man first, who asks for a Bud bottle. It’s easy enough, so the bartender points to you. 

“A vodka soda with a lime, please!” You lean forward over the bar and raise your voice so the bartender can hear you over the chatter in the bar. Another easy order. You never really know what to order at bars, despite being over the legal drinking age for a little while now. 

You and the man next to you wait in silence as the bartender makes your drinks– or grabs the beer bottle, in the case of your neighbor. He promptly hands over his card, which the bartender sticks into the side of his hat so that he can use both of his hands to make your drink. 

Your eyes go wide– your purse is at the table with your friends. You could just use ApplePay, but you really don’t want to hand your entire phone to the bartender to pay. “Oh, shit,” you mumble to yourself, looking over at the table where your friends sit. You can see your purse from here, like there’s a spotlight on it.

The bartender places a new glass in front of you and waits.

“I– my wallet is in my purse, I need to go grab it,” you say, pointing over towards the table. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back–”

“You can put it on mine,” the man next to you interrupts, talking directly to the bartender. “I’ll pay.”

The bartender nods and types around on the computer for a minute, while you turn to the guy next to you– your savior. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but you really do appreciate the small act of kindness.

“Thank you so much,” you tell the man, looking up at him and smiling softly. “I can Venmo you, if you want?”

He chuckles. “Nah, that’s okay,” he says. He sticks a hand out for you to shake, which is comical in a setting like this. You take his hand anyway, feeling his fingers curl around your palm. “I’m Luke.”

“Y/N. You’re sure I can’t pay you back?” you ask, shaking his hand.

Luke turns back to the bar, taking his card from the bartender and signing the receipt. You take your drink, waiting for him to say something else. He looks at you when he’s done and shakes his head. “I’m sure.”

Ugh– you can feel your chance slipping away. You’ve never been the bravest when it comes to making a move, but you know your friends won’t take pleasure in this story if you return now. They’ll just send you back over to Luke. “How about a dance?”

Luke’s eyebrows quirk. “A dance?”

“To pay you back. We dance for a song, we go our separate ways, and all is fair,” you say. It’s a silly proposal, but you’re hoping it works. Even if it doesn’t, you can tell your friends that you asked him to dance and he declined. You reach for your drink and sip from the straw, pinching the plastic to keep it in place. You look up at Luke through your eyelashes, blinking innocently.

Luke seems to consider the invitation, taking a swig from his beer bottle and sliding his card back into his wallet, before sliding his wallet back into his pocket. He licks his bottom lip and his eyes flicker over the top half of your figure. “Sure,” Luke decides after a minute. “Let’s dance.”

You smile. “Okay,” you say sweetly. “Let me go put my drink on my table. Wait right here.” You touch his arm lightly, lingering for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

You head back to your table, depositing your drink on the table and telling your friends that you’ll be dancing with Luke if they need you. They cheer and gas you up, making you swear that you’ll tell them everything. They promise to watch your stuff and, should you want to go home with Luke, they’ll call an Uber for you. 

Your friends don’t do that kind of stuff normally, so you’re starting to wonder… do they think you’ve been in a dry spell? Or are they just really excited about the prospect of you hooking up with Luke?

Luke’s face transforms when he smirks, watching you make your way back over to him. He laughs when you pop your hips a bit with each step, introducing the dance before you even make your way to the middle of the bar. Once you’re in range, Luke slides his big hand over your hip possessively and a thrill passes through you. It’s the simplest of touches. 

You lead him to the dance floor, twining your fingers between the lengthy digits of his free hand. You twirl under his arm before plastering your back to his front and, well, getting down to business. 

The music is upbeat, but you can’t place your finger on the genre. You like this bar because dancing isn’t a huge part of the vibe. There are still a number of couples out on the dance floor, plus a few groups of friends. It’s not crowded, but there’s no way that your friends are able to watch and analyze each move that you make. 

It might be disco, actually. Some sort of weird EDM-disco-reggae-poppy-retro song that you’ll never remember the name of, but you’ll remember the feeling you had while it played. You’ll remember the feeling of Luke’s body behind yours, so present that you have to close your eyes and memorize it. 

The movements are easy enough, although Luke is letting you lead the dance. His hips sway with yours, hands on your waist. You can feel his breath on your neck and your cheekbone and you lean into the touch, laying the back of your head against his shoulder. One of your hands comes up to find his neck, curling around the back of it and playing with his curls. You know he can see down the front of your going-out top like this, cleavage on full display, and that’s just how you want it. 

His movements grow more sure over the duration of the song. By the end of it, Luke’s hips are pressed securely against your backside and his hands are keeping you in place. At the end of the first song, you wait for Luke to step away, but he doesn’t. You just keep dancing– through a second, a third, and a fourth song.

Halfway through the fourth, Luke starts to kiss over your neck. It’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You hum and press into his touch, baring your neck for him and sighing. The fourth song ends and fades into a fifth. Luke keeps kissing. You keep rolling your hips. Luke pulls you back when you get too far away. You curl your fingers into his hair when his mouth parts from your pulsepoint for too long.

You turn into Luke’s body finally, unable to play this game for a moment more. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself into his orbit until your hips are flush and your tits are pressed against his front. 

There’s a lull momentarily, just a flash of hesitation in Luke’s eyes, but it’s gone in a second. That look is replaced with a dark, affected flicker deep in Luke’s pupils. He leans down, you tilt your head up, and you’re kissing each other frantically, bodies still moving in time with the beat of the sixth song. 

Your hands tug on Luke’s hair and one of his rises up the line of your back to tangle in yours. The other hand slides lower and you, for one, are very happy that Luke has such a big wingspan. You saw it when he reached a hand out to throw a dart and again when he was celebrating with his friend, another brunet in a backwards hat. His hand goes all the way to your behind and squeezes, which has you swooning.

You’re sure that you look sloppy and desperate on the dance floor, but with the way Luke’s dick is straining against his pants and pressing against your hip, you can’t be bothered to care. Luke’s mouth is insistent against yours and you feel positively feral.

It’s warm in the club all of a sudden. You feel like you’re sweating and you want to get out of these clothes– and you want to get Luke out of his. 

Luke kisses you until you’re gasping for air and you have to break away. Even then, he starts to kiss down your neck again, which has you arching into his touch. 

“Go home with me?” Luke asks between the open-mouthed marks he leaves on your neck. 

And you will, but you also don’t want to sit through a car ride. Your apartment is about twenty minutes from here and you don’t know how far Luke’s is… hell, he could live above the bar for all you care, and that would be too far.

“Too far,” you reply before tracing a line over the strong column of his throat. “I want you now.”

Luke chuckles, amused by your chagrin. “We can’t just–”

“Come on.” You take Luke’s hand and drag him towards the bathrooms. There’s a single stall employee bathroom that you know the code for– only because one of your friends used to date one of the bartenders at this bar. He gave her the code and she’d shared it with your group of friends, then you’d continued using it after they’d broken up. Part of that is revenge for the bartender turning out to be evil, as ex-boyfriends often are, but the other part is that you prefer having a bathroom that is constantly stocked with toilet paper, soap, and paper towels. 

In this case… you prefer having a bathroom that is locked and very private.

You punch in the code, waiting for the keypad to light up green, and let yourself in. You pull Luke into the room behind you, leaning back against the door as it swings shut. 

Luke crowds into your space, cupping your cheeks and pushing your hair back until it’s a tangled mess. All the while, he’s mouthing against your lips. You take his enthusiasm as a sign that he’s on board with your idea– that you can hook up right here and there’s no need to wait. The doorknob is digging into your side, but you don’t mind all that much. 

He’s so strong. You can feel it in the way his fingertips dig into your sides and how his body covers yours. 

You both move with ferver, hands roaming and touching every inch that you can. Luke tastes like the beer he was drinking and smells of faint cologne. His tongue licks at your mouth like a flame and the sounds of your lips meeting and retracting fills your ears. You can hear how he’s starting to pant into your mouth, and one of his hands comes up to squeeze your boob. You return the favor, fitting your hand around his length over the front of his pants. He moans into your mouth and you swoon, knees buckling slightly.

They buckle until you find your way to the ground. “Can I?” you ask, petting over the tent in front of your face. You look up at Luke, leaning forward to smooth an inviting kiss to his bulge. 

“Fuck, yes,” Luke replies. One of his hands stays flat against the back of the door, while the other gathers your hair at the back of your head.

You let a smirk crawl over your face, maintaining eye contact with Luke and hoping that it looks sexy. Then, you’re quick to unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down, working to free Luke’s cock. You can practically feel your mouth watering, filling with spit and craving his taste. 

When you pull his pants and boxers down, Luke’s cock springs free and bounces back towards his stomach. He’s got a big cock, lengthier than you’ve seen in any of your previous hookups. He’s girthy, too, and you’re happy to see that he’s circumcised. Not that you’d complain if he wasn’t, but… whatever. It’s not important. What’s important is that he’s right here and your mouth isn’t around him yet.

You dive in, tongue first. At the first union of Luke’s precum with your tastebuds, you moan and allow your eyelids to flutter shut. You bob your head, taking inch after inch of Luke until there’s hardly any space remaining– at least, you hope not. He’s big and you’d like to look accomplished, able to deepthroat him. It’s a pride thing. After pushing your head down just the tiniest bit further, just enough so you gag around his tip and your mouth constricts around his cock, you pull back.

You pump his cock while you breathe, shaking away the lightheadedness that came with his girth filling your windpipe and cutting off your airway. You lick from his base to his tip with the flat of your tongue, gazing up at Luke with wide eyes to catch his reaction.

He’s breathing hard, his stomach tensing and hand twitching against the back of the door, like he wants to grab something. “That’s so good,” Luke gasps out, his other hand tightening in your hair. He stares down at you, pupils dark and all-consuming. 

You open your mouth and slide his length over your tongue, taking him deep.

“So good,” Luke repeats. His hips push forward, encouraging you to do more.

So that’s how it’s going to be, you think. Well, you certainly don’t mind if Luke wants to take control.

You bring your hand to the back of your head, covering his fingers. Luke stares at you, but he doesn’t move. If his cock wasn’t in your mouth, tip poking at the back of your throat, you’d giggle at the dumbfounded look on his face. Instead, you just push your head forward with that hand over Luke’s, then pull back, and then push forward again. You drop Luke’s hand and thumb over his thigh, tracing the light hair that adorns it.

“You– do you want me to fuck your mouth?” Luke asks, stammering over the first word. His cheeks flush as he questions you. You can’t tell if it’s from being turned on or if it’s because he’s embarrassed that he even has to ask.

You nod, eyes half-hooded and bottom teeth accidentally scraping against the underside of his cock. You drop your mouth open wider, and your jaw is starting to ache, but what does it matter? Luke’s grip has grown even tighter on your hair.

“Are you sure?” he checks again, although his hips are already starting to work back, giving him room to push forward when you confirm.

You nod again, flexing your tongue against the vein that pulses along his shaft. 

“Fuck, that’s hot. Okay, um, if it’s too much,” Luke says, scrambling a bit. “Just, uh, hit me. Hit my thigh if it’s too much and you need a break, okay?”

You let a breath of laughter leave your nose and you pat his thigh firmly to show that you understand. You bring that hand around the back of his thigh and encourage him forward, eyes never breaking from his.

Luke starts slow at first, using his grip on your hair to drag you closer to his base and then back to his tip. He sees how much you can take and how far he can go before his tip falls off of your tongue and leaves your mouth completely. He directs your head like a marionette on a string, recapturing his cock and filling your mouth with it. 

You pinch his thigh and whine, the sound muffled around Luke’s length, but he gets the message. 

“Okay, fuck,” Luke curses. He starts to pull your hair harder, then push down on your scalp itself more harshly. “Letting me fuck your mouth in the bar bathroom, that’s so dirty, Y/N.”

You moan at that, eyes rolling back.

“Oh, you like being dirty, huh?” Luke asks. “You like it when I talk to you? Or do you just like the idea of me ruining you?”

That. You moan again, the vibration from the noise reverberating around his length. 

Luke gains more confidence, bringing his hand down from the door and rearranging your hair into a ponytail of sorts. Both hands are on the sides of your head, holding your skull like they would hold your hips if he was fucking into you from behind. 

“So good at gagging on my cock, babe,” Luke continues. His eyes are flashing with ideas, a new light glinting through them. His hips are moving steadily, methoidcally. Forward, backward, forward, backward. His tip nudges the back of your throat with each thrust. You do actually gag when his cockhead drags over your uvula, but it makes Luke moan and increase his pace.

You like watching him come closer and closer to the edge, using your mouth. You claw at his thighs, trying to keep him as close as you can. You continue to moan, choke, and splutter around his cock, making as much noise as you can. Luke is returning the favor, groaning and grunting and heaving out harsh breaths while his pace grows more and more frenzied.

“Never even met me before, but here you are, on your knees in a bar bathroom,” Luke grits out, a twisted smirk on his face. “So willing to be used.”

Yes. You can feel a trail of drool carve a path down your chin. Luke fucks it out of you. His balls knock against your chin as he starts to lose control of himself, thrusting into your mouth as far as the hole will allow. 

“You’re gonna swallow my cum,” Luke says lowly, his jaw clenched. He holds your head down, your jaw unhinged and deepthroating his cock. “Then I’m going to take you home and finish the job.”

You nod as best you can with his hands still holding your head in place.

Luke nods in return, then the pads of his thumbs dig into the thin skin of your temple and he snaps his hips forward.

His thrusts are precise and rough, which has you gagging like you’ll reject his cock, but you won’t. You want his cum. You want it in your mouth, sliding down your throat, and settling in your stomach. Your next moan is more of a gurgle around Luke’s shaft, tongue pressing into his skin.

“Good girl, I’m close,” Luke says. “Keep your mouth open for me.”

You can’t open your mouth any more than you already have, but you try your best. Your eyes sting a bit as Luke continues to abuse your throat, but you keep your watery gaze locked on him. 

Luke groans and shudders, taking one of his hands from your head and returning it to the door. He forms a fist this time, knocking his forearm against the door and then leaning his head against it. He braces himself, staring down at you with his lips parted, clearly affected and transfixed by the look on your face. 

His entire body rolls forward when his cum bursts from his slit and shoots down your throat. Luke moans loud, the sound seeming to echo off the walls of the spacious room. 

His hips stop moving, but you bob your head for an extra minute, making slurping noises around his cock and swallowing as best you can. Some of his cum joins the drool leaking from your mouth when Luke pulls away, unable to take any further stimulation. 

You swallow a final time, your throat aching with a sharp pain from overuse. You wipe under your bottom lip with the pads of your first three fingers, then lick the remaining fluids from them. 

“Shit…” Luke drawls, his chest rising and falling with ample effort. His eyes look far away, although they’re fixed on the way your mouth circles your fingers. “Baby, I gotta get you home.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tease, your voice rough. Your words even break a bit, catching on the dry surface of your tongue. “Are you going to let me sit on your face and ruin you?”

Luke’s eyes widen and his pupils dilate, his tongue licking over his bottom lip. He reaches for your elbow and helps you stand, capturing your mouth in a long kiss. “Among other things,” he breathes out when you part. “Yeah, let’s get your cum on my chin too. You can see how good it looks.”

“My friends said they’d pay for the Uber,” you tell him, patting his chest. You reach for his underpants, then his jeans, and make sure they’re snug, zipped, and buttoned around his hips. You kiss him softly. “Let’s go get my purse.”

notes: been in a Lu mood lately :) not much writing has come from it, but i have been in a Lu mood.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

───୨ৎ praise that old man, girl!

a/n: i adore Stanley Pines and apparently im not alone because the amount of asks i got for nsfw with this man?? who am i to deny the people what they want?? also one anon asked for public sex with Stanley sooo here you go angel!

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal and oral sex (f receiving), age gap, dirty talk, older man/younger woman, degradation + praise, size kink, dumbification, public sex, rough sex, breeding kink

You hadn’t exactly walked into the Mystery Shack with dreams of employment. Stan had hired you on the spot, half-serious when he said he couldn’t afford to be picky. “you got a pulse? can count to ten? good, you’re in,” while shoving a broom into your hands.

You’d been working here for a while now and Stanley Pines had somehow, against all reason, taken a liking to you. You weren’t like the other employees, you were sarcastic and always ready with a quick comeback. It didn’t take long for Stan to notice and he loved the fact that you didn’t take his shit. He loved how you could dish it out just as good as he could.

You genuinely liked your work. The old place had its charm and Stan, despite his grumpy act, was actually funny in his own way.

You were sharp, quick with the same kind of deadpan humor Stan wielded like a weapon. when tourists asked the weirdest and dumbest questions as “how does this yeti paw feel so real?”, you’d shrug and go, “oh, Mr. Pines wrestled the guy for it last spring! you should’ve seen him in the ring.”

And somehow, your nonsense never grated on him.

He’d grumble about you “driving him crazy,” but the truth was, he admired how you handled people, how you could spin up a lie on the spot and sell it with a sly smirk. Even when you worked him up, you had a knack for knowing how to make him laugh before he could stay mad.

Like the time you’d swapped the “do not touch” signs in the gift shop with ones reading “please steal this.” When Stan stormed out of his office, you barely flinched. “don’t blame me. Soos did it,” you’d said again and he’d folded his arms, sighing.

“Kid, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.”

“Then you’ll get to take a vacation, Mr. Pines.”

You had a way of making him feel younger, somehow. Not just the old man with a bad back and a million regrets. Around you, he felt like the guy who still had a chance to make someone smile. And god, he loved that.

Because, god, you talk back, crack jokes, get in his face with that stupid grin of yours. And he knows you know how to get under his skin. It’s annoying and hilarious at the same time.

You’re a disaster of a worker. He’ll admit that to anyone, but for some reason, Stan forgives you. every time. “who did this? who messed up the brochures?” and you always say the same thing “Soos.”

And fuck, he adores it, the way you lie so easily and confidently. He's not mad, but charmed by it. And maybe a little turned on too, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

“You know, i should fire you, right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t, cause i’m too cute, Mr. Pines.”

Stan had wanted to stay mad, but how could he? Every time you messed up, he found a way to let it slide, not because you were good at covering your tracks, but because you always knew just what to say, how to make him forget the shit you’d done. You made it all worth it.

The pick-up lines started a few weeks in. At first, they were awful, so bad that you’d nearly die of secondhand embarrassment. “you must be tired, ‘cause you’ve been running through my mind all day, doll,” he'd say with a lazy wink. and, of course, you’d always have something ready: “you should probably take a nap then, Mr. Mystery, you’re getting old.”

The first time Stanley tried to flirt with you, he didn’t know how it’d feel. He was always smooth, always had a line ready, but it always went wrong with you. “you know, i must be a snowflake ‘cause i’m falling for you.” but before he could even get the whole line out, you shot back, “snowflakes melt. Is that really how you want to end up?”

He’d blink, caught off guard, then chuckle. “smartass.”

But Stan, the bastard, he loved that about you.

He loved how you never pretended to be anything you weren’t. No frilly nonsense or sugar-coating, just honest humor that reminded him of his own shitty jokes. You didn’t back down, never tiptoed around him, and he couldn’t even be mad when you lied about the mess-ups.

His flirts were always the same, predictable, corny, but somehow, Stan delivered them with the precision of a seasoned performer. He would laugh at your attempts to flirt back what made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “you’re cute when you’re trying to be a romantic,” you say as you lean against the counter with a teasing grin. “but i’m still gonna need a drink to believe you.”

Stanley grew bolder though. “if I were a few years younger. . .”

“You’d still be a pervert?”

“Nah, just a smooth talker, toots,” he’d grin, trailing his fingers over a stack of papers as you walked past, brown eyes never leaving you

The more you two exchanged these ridiculous lines, the more the tension built. The fake flirting, the dumb compliments, it was a game to both of you and neither of you could stop playing.

The shack is empty, just for now. It's an early morning in Gravity Falls, the aroma of coffee that Stan insisted on brewing too strong fills the air. He was at the counter, organising some brochures for the tours, his usual tourist-trap grin nowhere to be found yet.

Tourists haven’t arrived yet.

You were running a little late today, again. Not that Stanley really cared, but he always pretended to. The man was predictable like that. By now, you’d learned that his bark was worse than his bite, though sometimes, you didn’t mind the idea of getting a little bitten.

You walk into the Shack with coffee in one hand and bag slung over your shoulder, the creak of the floorboards greeting you. Stan was leaning against the counter when you came, scribbling something on his clipboard, his back turned to you. And that’s when you saw it.

He wasn’t wearing his girdle and it was impossible not to notice the soft swell of his stomach beneath his shirt.

Fuck. You swallow hard, trying to act normal, but there’s no stopping the heat pooling low in your belly. Mr. Pines, all thick and broad, strong arms, messy morning hair, his belly curving under his chest, that's just too much

And while anyone else might have held back, might’ve thought better of sneaking up on their boss, you didn’t hesitate. The moment you saw him, your lips curled into a smirk.

He hasn’t noticed you yet.

Stepping closer, your let your hands slide over his clothes until your palms rested against the warm curve of his belly. He jumps immediately, his hand jerking across the paper, leaving a thick, jagged line of ink.

“What the— hey! what’re you doin’, kid?!”

“Just admiring my boss?” you grin wider, leaning into him.

Another grumpy “pfft. yeah, right.” comes your way when Stan moves to brush your hands away, but you just dig your fingers in harder, letting your breasts press against his back.

“You’ve been hiding this from me all this time? What a shame.”

His face burns instantly, bright red flushing up his neck. “dammit, don’t go grabbin’ me like that! i’m too old for—”

“Oh, come on,” you cut him off, crowding him against the counter. “you’re not too anything. in fact,” your fingers dip just slightly below his beltline, teasing. “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Perfect? hah, are you outta your damn mind? Look at me! I’m no spring chicken, alright? i’ve got—”

“Got what, Mr. Pines?” you interrupt. “nice body?” your nails scrape lightly against your boss, earning a shaky exhale from him. “i like it. a lot.”

“Cut it out, kid, this ain’t the kinda body women go crazy for. You’re wastin’ your time”

You frown. “says who?”

He huffs in embarrassment. “C’mon, you've seen it. I'm too old and- and uh, rough around the edges?”

“Damn, exactly what i like,” his whole body stiffens under your touch. “big strong hands, broad chest and this belly, i want all of it, Mr. Pines.”

“You got a filthy mouth, y’know.”

“Oh, i had a good teacher.” you giggle, feeling him already getting hard. “you ever been touched like this, Mr. Pines?”

Stan exhales hard, irritated and flustered. “‘course I have, don’t talk like I’m some goddamn virgin.”

“Thats not what i meant.” your nails scrape, dragging slow over his belly, over the dips and curves.

He tries to change the tactics then. “listen, sweetie, i’m too old for this shit, alright? you- you deserve some young, pretty guy who—“

“Who what? who doesn’t look half as good as you? who can’t make me laugh the way you do? who doesn’t make me want to do this? i like it thick, broad, strong. You could just throw me around and have your way with me, Mr. Pines.”

Stanley fucking stops breathing. Hes hesitating because he doesn’t want to admit he’s just as fucking hungry for this as you are.

He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep his composure. “You- you’re crazy, y’know that?” but you always knew how to get under his skin.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t here to keep you on your toes.” your fingertips graze his bulge once more and that's it. Stan’s breath stutters in his throat.

“Hot belgium waffles, you better be serious, sweetheart.” he’s already turning, crowding you against the counter, gripping your waist, your hips, your ass.

“Why wouldn’t i be?” you gasp after you say the last word when he palms your tits, kneads them roughly.

“You wanna be fucked like that? like a real man oughta do it?” he leans closer to your face. You nod too eagerly and Stan doesn’t waste a second “we better make this quick,” while his fingers already yanking at your clothes, dragging you onto the counter, pressing his mouth to yours.

Quick. Ha.

Stan kisses like he’s trying to eat you alive, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan, grinding against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing into your stomach

You should have known better. Should’ve known better than to touch him like that, to let your fingers linger on the soft curve of his belly as he stood there, all unbuttoned and exposed. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment your hands landed there, the pull was too strong, and you knew that if you didn’t take it now, you’d burn up inside.

“You sure you want this, baby? ‘cause once i start, i’m not stoppin.” you nod, gasping for breath, and that’s all he needs. “good, i’ve been holding back long enough.” he gropes you, touches you everywhere, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” your bra is barely on you before he’s palming your tits, squeezing rough, thumbing your nipples, watching them peak.

He licks his lips, then leans down and latches on. Wet, sucking, pulling noises fill the Shack. You arch, whimper, push into his mouth and he groans. “needy little thing, ain’t ya?” he switches breasts, drags his tongue over the swell, teeth scraping before sucking your nipple into his mouth, rolling it, flicking it.

Stanley Pines, despite his gruff exterior, is a sweaty mess in front of you. A man that had given up, probably, on ever being seen as sexy. That’s what made it so deliciously easy to shatter him. To break that cold shell. Because he didn’t see it, did he? He didn’t see how much his body, his age, even his wrinkles, didn’t matter to you. You just want him to feel it. You want him to feel desired, so badly.

“Fucking hell, yer driving me insane, toots.”

You laugh breathlessly. “don’t be so dramatic, old man. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one,” he growls as he pushes you back against the counter, gripping your thighs.

His mouth is on you again, kissing down your neck, biting, his tongue leaving hot scorching wet trails that fill your stomach with butterflies. You grind against him, feeling the press of his cock through his pants.

“You want this, huh? want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in?”

“Yes, i need you, Mr. Pines.” your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Stanley presses his thick fingers against your underwear, circling your throbbing clit through your panties, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

“Already so wet. Hell, you’re gonna take me so good, aren’t ya? this tight little pussy’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You moan, your head falling back, your body arching against him as he works you with his fingers faster, harder.

“Please, please, please, need you!” then, out of the blue, or maybe because you're too lost to even care so you'd mumble everything that comes out of your mouth, you quietly admit. “Mr. Pines, f-fuck, ive touched myself to the thought of you—”

Stanley looks at you. “say that again.”

“I've thought about you, i fingered myself imagining it was your cock.” you say quietly, looking at him with little hearts in your puppy eyes.

“Jesus christ, you filthy little thing.”

“Stan—”

“Mr. Pines.” fuck. the way he corrects you, heat coils in your stomach, between your legs. “You wanna get fucked good, you use the right name.”

“M-Mr. Pines—fuck, please—” his fingers press harder, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clothed clit.

“Soaked. And i ain’t even touched you yet.” you whine, pressing into his hands, your hips twitching. And that bastard laughs. “poor thing, you really need it, huh? sweetie, you’re lucky i’m not makin’ you beg for it.” yet, he forgot to add.

You’re about to retort, but then his fingers slide your panties to the side, spreading your folds, dragging through your wet slit.

“Fuck, baby, dripping all over my fingers.”

“N-need you—”

“Aw, yeah? that so?” he pushes a finger in your pussy so fucking slow, savouring the way your little cunt takes his thick digit, already imagining how perfect it'd be with his cock instead. “tight angel, fuck, so tight.” Stan manhandles you roughly, spreading your legs with his hands, kneeling in front of you, about to devour you whole. You feel his hot breath against your core and when he leans in and his tongue finally licks a long, slow stripe through your folds, you swear you see stars.

“Taste even better than i thought,” he groans, voice muffled against your pussy. His big hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking like a man starved.

“Mr. Pines—oh my g-god—” Stanley keeps grunting and moaning, the vibration sending shocks through your body.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name like that. Can’t get enough of you, doll.” his warm tongue flicks your swollen clit and he slides two fingers into you, curling them, scissoring. Your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down with one arm across your stomach. “Stay still, princess, let me take care of you.”

You’re already close and he knows it, his fingers pumping into you faster, his mouth relentless on your clit. You fall over the edge with a cry, your thighs trembling as he works you through it, fingers still moving, tongue still teasing, until you’re begging him to stop from overstimulation, tugging his hair. Stanley pulls back, lips and chin glistening and grins like the filthy bastard he is. “cant believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.”

He stands, towering over you and you reach for him, fumbling with his belt. When the metal buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the Shack, Stanley impatiently shoves his pants down to free himself.

Your gaze drops and your eyes widen. Jesus christ.

“Like what you see?”

“I’d be stupid not to,” you grin, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him, making him curse under his breath, his hips jerking into your hand as he grabs your wrist, guiding you to pump his hard length slowly.

But you two don't have much time so he holds your panties aside with one hand, lining himself up with the other and with a single thrust, Stan buries himself inside you, stretching you so perfectly it makes your vision blur.

“Fuck,” his hands grip your hips so hard you were sure there will be bruises. “you’re so fuckin’ tight and warm. Goddamn, sweetheart.”

Your response breaks off into a whimper as he starts moving, slow at first to let you get used, his hips rolling into yours smoothly.

“That’s it, take it, baby, all of me.” you let out a soft moan, looking down where you both connected and he grins, pressing his hand against your stomach, where the outline of him bulged beneath your skin. “look at that, i’m so fuckin’ deep, i can feel myself here. You feel it, baby? feel me stretchin’ ya open?”

You nod frantically, your head spinning with every relentless thrust as he stretches you in ways you didn’t think possible. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, your body arching against him as he sets a brutal pace, driving into you over and over again.

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin' an old bastard like me ruin ya.”

You can only nod, your needy voice lost to the pleasure as youre getting fucked that good, right here in the Shack, where anyone could walk in.

He’s watching you, watching your pussy stretch around his fat cock, watching the way you tremble. His big hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, forcing you to take all of him.

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this before, huh?” he slams into you again, making the counter creak beneath you. Using his strong hands he keeps you in place as his cock drives in and out of your dripping, swollen cunt.

“C'mon, answer me, baby,” he growls, his hand sliding up to grab your jaw, forcing your glazed-over eyes to meet his. His cock buries deep, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. ”didn’t ask for silence. you ever been fucked like this before?”

Your eyes are closed as you shake your head, whimpering. “n-no.”

“No, what?”

"N-no one’s ever fucked me like this, Mr. Pines—”

“Good girl, use your words,” Stan grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “tell me how much you love this cock.”

“S-so much,” you manage to choke out between pathetic whines and mewls, your brain turning into useless mess. “i love it, i love you, Mr. Pines, don’t stop!” tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Poor thing, all those boys before me and none of ‘em knew how to stretch this perfect cunt open right.” he shifts his hips, grindings his cock against your walls, making you sob. “bet they didn’t even know how to fuck you proper, huh? didn’t know how to make ya beg?”

You shake your head and gasp, clinging to him.

His hand slides down your body, rough fingers rubbing over your swollen, sensitive clit. “owwh, they never even made ya cum, did they, sweetheart?”

“No, they didn’t, Mr. Pines.”

“Fuckin’ shame. all those useless boys, never knew what they were missin’.” his thumb circles your clit. “but don't worry, this pussy’s mine now, ya hear me? No one else’s. I’m the only one who can fuck ya like this, make ya feel this good.”

“Mr. Pines, ple-please. . .’

“Please what, sugar?” he pants, fucking you so deep you swear you feel him rearranging your insides.

You sob, tears spilling from your pretty eyes. “p-please, make me cum—” Stan doesn’t let up, not even for a second. His cock is buried so deep inside you that you can barely breathe and think, barely do anything but moan and take it like the filthy little thing you are.

“Aw, baby, you gonna cum already? just from my cock stretchin’ ya open like this?” you nod, your body tightening around him. “fuck, that’s right, sweetheart, squeeze me just like that. Never thought i’d get to ruin somethin’ so perfect.” his pace picks up, his cock pounding into you so hard you’re sure the counter’s going to break.

You were supposed to keep it quick. just a little pre-tour fuck as you both said.

But thirty minutes turned into sixty and sixty turned into absolute depravity.

The counter was first, but then Stan couldn’t stop. His cock is buried deep inside your soaked, needy cunt as his hands hold you while he thrusts into you.

"Fuckin’ christ, doll, this pussy’s gonna be the death of me."

You had your legs around his waist, arms locked around his neck, Stanley fucking into you so deep you felt like you’d pass out. But then he lifted you up, didn’t even bother pulling out, just carried you like you weighed nothing, still fucking up into you, and took you across the shack like a man possessed.

“Mr. Pines!” and “so good!” were the only words you knew.

“Thought we were keepin’ this quick, huh?” he grunts. “then why the fuck can’t i stop?”

You can’t even answer because your mouth is too busy moaning, gasping, babbling absolute nonsense while he splits you open, every inch pushing against your soft, sensitive walls, stuffing your tight pussy full.

You arch your back, sobbing, because you need it fast again, rough again, animalistic again. And he fucking gives it to you, by grabbing your thighs, folding you in half and absolutely destroying you.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl, letting an old bastard like me ruin this tight little pussy. Even dreamed about this, ugh, layin’ awake at night, fingers buried in that needy little cunt, wishin’ it was me.”

What can you say except loud “yesyesyes!” gasps? However, Stanley is satisfied with that.

“Yeah? bet you’re never gonna want anyone else fuckin’ you again.”

He doesn’t stop. Every display case. Every fake cryptid setup. Even the damn vending machine.

“You're so fuckin’ wet, doll, i could slide into this little cunt with no effort at all.”

Fake exhibits? fucked over them. That fake monster cage? Bent over it. That dusty-ass animatronic Stan managed to steal? yeah, he fucked you right in front of it, hands gripping your ass, hips slamming into yours so hard the damn thing started moving

Stan literally punched it to shut it up.

But did he stop? no.

“Shut the hell up, buddy,” he muttered to the machine, before shoving his cock back inside you and making you scream.

but the final round?

Staff room.

Both of you panting, sweaty, while he takes you from behind, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the slick sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty Shack.

Or, well, not so empty anymore, because suddenly you hear the honk of a tourist bus outside.

Stan’s head snaps up. “oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me—”

His eyes dart to the stupid clock on the wall and he actually freezes for a second.

“We— we were supposed to open, like—shit, twenty minutes ago.”

“So? keep going.” you say lazily under him.

“Oh, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” but does he stop? does he fucking stop?

No, no he does not. Instead, he fucks you harder.

“I'm gonna make this quick, baby, gonna fill you up real nice, then i gotta—fuck—gotta get to work—“

But then— “uh, Mr. Mystery?”

fuck.

Stan’s body locks up and you both freeze. The voice is right outside the door. Stanley lets out the deepest, most exhausted sigh. “Uh, yeah?”

The tourist hums. “sooo i was wondering, when does the tour start? we’ve been waiting outside for a while.”

Stan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “yeah, yeah, uh, give me five minutes, kid, i got, uh, got a bad back today, y'know? just need a second to—uhhh—” you clench around him, tight, so fucking tight and his words cut off in a groan.

He glares at you. you just smirk.

“You okay in there, Mr. Mystery?”

Stan forces his voice steady. “yeah, yeah, just—” he grits his teeth. “just need a minute to stretch it out.” he snaps his hips forward, stuffing his cock back into your cunt, deep and slow, forcing you to feel every thick, throbbing inch

You whimper, just to fuck with him because this old man is so funny when annoyed.

“Fuckin’ hell, stop that.” he growls under his breath at you.

But the tourist won’t leave.

“So, uh, what’s the official policy on taking pictures of the fake exhibits?”

Stan’s eye twitches, his hips jerk forward involuntarily and you let out a choked gasp.

The tourist pauses.

“Mr. Mystery? are you sure you're okay?”

Stan immediately shoves a hand over your mouth. “Told you, just back’s actin’ up, kid.”

The tourist keeps talking.

“What do you think the likelihood is of alien activity in oregon? because personally, i think—”

You clench around him again. Stan chokes on a groan, his cock throbbing inside you as he tries to keep his voice normal.

“Listen, kid, why don’t you, uh, go look at the gift shop or somethin’, huh?”

“Oh, but i wanted to ask about—”

Stan loses it

“NOT NOW, KID. TOUR STARTS IN TEN MINUTES. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.”

“Ohh. . . Okay?” fucking finally, you hear footsteps and door creaking, that idiot leaving

Stanley slumps forward, forehead against your shoulder.

“Poor Mr. Mystery,” you tease, moving your hips. “just trying to do his job, but this damn girl won’t stop teasing him—”

“Ohhh, you thought you were so fuckin’ cute, huh?” the deep rasp of his voice sends shivers down your spine. His chest is pressed against your back, his weight holding you down while his cock still stuffed inside your ruined cunt. “moanin’ all pretty while i was tryna talk? teasin’ me in front of that dumbass tourist. Makin’ those fuckin’ sounds on purpose. Thought i wouldn’t do somethin’ about it?”

You yelp when his hand grips your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “you wanna act like a dumb little slut? then i’m gonna fuck you like one.” after that, Stan pulls out slowly, torturously just to slam back in.

You cry out. No, the sound you make would be better described as pathetic loud whine.

But Stan slaps a hand over your mouth, pressing you into the couch. “uh-uh, pretty, you don’t get to be loud now. you lost that privilege.”

His cock is so deep, stretching your cunt open, filling you completely. Every thrust is hard, brutal, messy, wet. Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in, greedy for more as you whimper into his big palm. The couch creaks under you, the whole room still eerily silent except for the filthy, wet sounds of him using you.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby? thought you liked teasin’ me. now you can’t even take my cock?” as you nearly fall from the fast rhythm. Stan laughs against your ear. “thought you wanted me to fuckin’ ruin you, huh? turn this sloppy little cunt into my personal fuckhole?”

You can't even moan as Stan snaps his hips up, hitting so deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“What’s the matter, princess? feelin’ a little too full?” his belly presses against your back, his size overwhelming you, his weight pinning you down, making sure you can’t run from him as he grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him, forces you to take every inch. “ this little cunt’s gonna take every last drop, huh? ‘cause that’s what you are, ain’tcha?”

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your head so he can look in your glassy eyes.

“Say it, sweetie. Tell me what you are.”

Your brows knit together. “m’ your dumb little slut, Mr. Pines. . .m’ made to take your cock—” words come out barely coherent through the lewd slap of skin-on-skin filling the room.

Damn right. His hand slides down, finding your clit, rubbing it fast. Your body jerks, overstimulated.

“Too much?” his voice is mocking. “too fuckin’ bad, baby. Shoulda thought of that before you started actin’ like a brat.”

You’re already close again, what is it now, your sixth orgasm? Eighth? You shake too hard in his hands as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. make you fuckin’ mine. you want that? lemme hear you beg.”

”P-please. . . ple, mhm. . .hhng . .” your words muffled against his palm.

“Please what?”

“Please—please breed my messy cunt, Mr. Pines—please, please—”

“Holy shit, baby, you want me to breed this little pussy? want me to fill you so full you’ll be drippin’ down your thighs all day?”

You nod frantically and Stanley feels you smile widely against his skin what makes him laugh. Such a dumb slut you are.

“Greedy little thing. y'know i gotta work today, right?” his cock throbs inside you, stuffing you so full you can feel him in your stomach. ”but fuck- fuck, baby, can’t help it.” his hips snap forward, burying himself completely as he cums, making you feel every pulse, every throbbing rope of his hot seed spilling inside you, flooding your pussy.

Your own orgasm hits so hard your vision whites out, your cunt clenching tight, squeezing him, milking him dry.

“Oh, that's it, baby, there it is. Good little slut.” you collapse, trembling, fucked-out and absolutely ruined.

Stan stays inside you, catching his breath, watching as his cum spills out, dripping down your thighs. He leans down, kisses your neck. “gonna clean you up, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him through tired eyes, dizzy. “with what?”

He smirks. “my fuckin’ tongue.” uh oh, you guess Mystery Shack is gonna open late today because even though Stanley Pines has a job to do, first he’s gotta make sure his messy girl is properly taken care of.

[atzloverr]

Our unsaid truths - chapter 2

previous chapter - next chapter

series masterlist

pairings: poly!ateez x reader, atz x atz

cw: polyamory, teasing, mentions of sex, jealousy, use of Y/n, reader is flustered lol, that’s like it, I know this is really short but I promise next chapter will have more!!!!

The sun had just begun to peek through the curtains when you started to stir awake. An unknown but comfortable warmth surrounded you, and it took a few seconds for your sleep-fogged mind to register why you felt so… crowded.

Wooyoung’s arm was slung lazily over your stomach, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, while Seonghwa’s leg was tangled with yours, his deep and even breathing tickling your shoulder. You stared up at the ceiling, your heart beating faster than it should for someone who had just woken up.

The events of last night hit you like a truck.

“Oh my god…” you whispered under your breath. You tried shifting slightly, but Wooyoung pulled you closer to him, groaning softly in his sleep. Your cheeks burned as you realized the position you were currently in: pinned in between the two.

“Morning, beautiful.”

Seonghwa’s voice was smooth, carrying a teasing lilt as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. His hair was disheveled, and the smirk on his face made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Before you could respond, a soft yawn escaped Wooyoung, his body stretching slightly against yours. You averted your attention towards him. He looked up at you and grinned. “Morning, gorgeous.” His voice was husky from sleep.

“Um… good morning,” you stammered with a small smile, feeling heat creep up your neck.

It was surreal, waking up sandwiched between two men who now seemed equally interested in you. As the moment stretched on, you started to wonder what this would mean for your relationship with not just Seonghwa and Wooyoung, but with the rest of the boys as well. You bit your lip anxiously at the thought.

The worst thing you could imagine was ruining something that was so perfect between them, so perfect between you and Seonghwa.

”Whatcha thinking about sweetie?” you heard Seonghwa ask, snapping you out of your dazed state of deep thought. You simply shook your head. ”Nothing special.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung exchanged looks, was your lie too obvious? ”Whatever, I’m hungry,” Wooyoung said before groaning loudly, finally letting you go to stretch out his entire body.

”Will you let me borrow your clothes, hyung?” Wooyoung said, trying his best to use his puppy eyes, a large pout on his lips.

Seonghwa sighed but eventually gave in with a tired ’sure’. You figured he probably didn’t want Wooyoung to walk out completely naked. The thought made you pause.

Would the others know what went down last night? You knew the walls weren’t exactly thick, but would you have to walk out to being humiliated this morning? You decided to speak your mind, worry brimming within you.

”Do you think they’ll know? I mean, not that there would be anything wrong with that, but—” you stammered nervously. ”Hmm, maybe,” Wooyoung giggled, getting dressed in one of Seonghwa’s sweatpants.

”I don’t know baby, but I’m sure they won’t mind if they do know,” Seonghwa reassured. You sighed in relief at those words. It was sometimes as if Seonghwa knew exactly what you needed to hear and when.

You quickly threw on one of Seonghwa’s shirts, not bothering to put on pants, before the three of you started to make your way to the dining area. As you heard the sound of voices from the kitchen, you felt nervousness starting to creep up on you. Seonghwa’s comforting hand on the small of your back sure helped though.

As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by the sight of Hongjoong and Yeosang cooking something by the stove, as well as some of the other guys spread out around the room.

“Well, well, good morning, Y/n,” Hongjoong greeted, his lips curving into a smirk. Yeosang gave you a knowing look, one brow raised as if he already had several jokes lined up.

“Morning,” you said, trying to sound natural, avoiding their gazes, pulling down the shirt to somewhat cover yourself.

“I see someone’s had an eventful night,” Yeosang said lightly, eyes focused on the food he was cooking. His words made you freeze, heat rising to your cheeks.

Before you could reply, Wooyoung’s voice chimed in from where he was standing by the fridge, getting some yogurt. “Why do you sound so jealous, Yeosang?” He said with a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Jealous? Of what, you being the loudest person in the building?” Yeosang shot back. You swallowed, feeling the embarrassment inside you grow for every word and glance the two exchanged.

“Loud?” Mingi suddenly piped up from the table. You turned your head to see his face filled with faux innocence. “Oh, they were definitely loud.”

You groaned and sank into the nearest chair, burying your face in your hands. “Can we change the subject?” you pleaded.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Wooyoung teased, sliding into the seat next to you with his yogurt in hand. “I think we made a great team last night.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat aggressively made everyone pause. Seonghwa stood up, his expression calm but his voice sharp. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung cowered slightly, glancing at him sheepishly. “What? I’m just saying—”

“Don’t make her uncomfortable.”

Seonghwa’s tone left no room for argument, and Wooyoung held up his hands in surrender, though the playful glint in his eyes remained.

“Sooo, Y/n,” Jongho said casually, trying to break the awkward silence that had come to be. “Are you planning to make your rounds with the rest of us, or are you sticking with these two?”

You choked on your own breath, flabbergasted by his question. You felt your cheeks burning hotter for each second that passed. “Jongho!”

“What? It’s a valid question,” he said with a shrug. You heard Yeosang giggle at the man’s words.

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, sinking further into your chair.

Yunho entered the room then, his hair messy from sleep and eyes still not completely open. “What’s unbelievable?” he asked, walking up to Mingi who had already prepared a cup of coffee for him.

“Y/n’s, well… expanding her social circle,” Mingi quipped, earning a chorus of laughter from almost everyone.

Yunho glanced between you, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung, piecing the situation together almost immediately.

His expression softened as he set his mug down and came to stand beside you, gently patting your head. “Don’t let them tease you too much,” he said kindly.

You gave him a grateful smile, only for him to add with a wink, “You’ll need your energy for the rest of us anyway.”

The room erupted into laughter, and you groaned. “I swear,” you glanced at the amused faces around you, “you’re all going to drive me insane.”

As breakfast continued and everyone eventually sat down by the table, you felt as if something was slightly off, or rather, someone.

You looked over to San, who silently ate his breakfast, and a thought struck you. He hadn’t uttered a single word this entire morning, which was very unlike him. He would always cling to someone, that someone usually being Wooyoung or Yeosang, but today, he seemed distant.

While the teasing had dialed down, Yeosang and Jongho still left some remarks about how much they heard and how they couldn’t sleep, but every time when the table erupted into laughter, you saw San sitting there, not even cracking a smile.

You were seated in between Seonghwa and Yunho, at the same spot you would usually sit at, and Yunho seemed to notice that you were deep in thought about something. ”What’s up?” he silently asked, making you blink when you returned to reality. ”Huh?”

Yunho giggled at your confusion, before a comforting smile coated his lips. ”What are you thinking about?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked around, and everyone was still caught up in their own conversations. ”Is San alright?” you almost whispered. You made it look casual though, not wanting someone to ask what you guys were talking about.

”Oh, so you noticed too huh?” Yunho smiled, pulling his hand through his hair. ”Hmm, I think he might be a little jealous, that’s all,” Yunho said quietly, still smiling widely.

”Jealous?” you echoed, starting to feel worried all over again. ”Don’t worry, Y/n. He gets like that sometimes, and you haven’t done anything wrong,” Yunho comforted, his hand rubbing circles into your shoulder. You took a deep breath while nodding, hoping that Yunho’s words were true.

”Who’s on dish-duty?” Hongjoong asked, grabbing everyones attention. You silently volunteered, but was immediately shot down by everyone else saying that you shouldn’t. ”You had a rough night, don’t you think you should rest?” Jongho said with a wink, making you roll your eyes before finally leaving the kitchen, still feeling flustered by the events.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few hours later you found yourself outside of their house, Seonghwa’s arms wrapped tightly around you. Seonghwa always got pouty when you were going back to your place. He wished you could always stay with them, but he also understood that you might want some alone time, where you’re not constantly the ”ninth wheel.”

He never wanted you to feel that way, and although you assured him that you didn’t, he still noticed that you still hesitated before staying at their house, even though he tried to assure you that you weren’t a burden.

”Hey, how are you feeling about all of this? With Wooyoung and everything? I feel like we haven’t gotten a chance to talk it through,” Seonghwa said, his hand rubbing your shoulders. You sighed heavily.

”I don’t know… I don’t want to complicate things for you guys, you know? I don’t know what they all expect from me now and—” Seonghwa noticed the shift in your emotions, and it made his heart ache.

”Shh, baby,” he brushed your hair away from your face, looking deep into your eyes. ”Take your time. There’s no rush into anything that you might not be ready for,” he reassured, placing a small kiss on your cheek. ”Just do what feels right.”

You nodded, feeling at ease from his comforting words. You placed a hand on his shoulder before kissing his lips. He pushed deeply into you, not wanting the moment to end. ”Call me anytime,” he reminded, watching you pick up your bags to leave.

”You’re leaving!?” the intimate moment was suddenly cut off by Wooyoung’s voice as he came scrambling out the door. You raised your eyebrows with a smile at his panicked expression.

”It’s not like I live here, I’m just going to my apartment, that’s all,” you laughed as Wooyoung wrapped you in a hug as if you were never going to see him again. ”You’ll come back right?” he asked, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You ruffled his hair with your hand, finding his face adorably funny. ”Pf course I will.”

You were about to take off when Wooyoung opened his mouth again. ”A—And Y/n?” you looked back. ”Can I kiss you too?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the question, as you immediately looked at Seonghwa. The reaffirming smile on his face told you everything you needed to know. ”Yes.”

And with that Wooyoung rushed towards you to give you a short but sweet kiss on the lips, before you finally made your way to your car.

On the way home, you thought about everything that had happened. It felt so surreal, to now receive the same kind of affection that your only used to from Seonghwa, from Wooyoung too.


Maybe you had liked him this whole time, but you were just too scared to make a first move. Maybe you had liked them all this whole time, you couldn’t tell. But once you parked your car in your driveway, you had made one thing clear for yourself. You were more than happy to expand this relationship, however far it would eventually do so.

next chapter

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you’re excited for a brand new series!!! Love you guys💕

taglist: @wooyoungsbrat @dawn-iscozy @fairy-jojo

those who requested a part 2: @nightcat101 @oreoqueen @the-belching-toe @stolasisyourparent @freyaphoria

tell me if you want to join the taglist!!!💕 part 3 is already written and will be posted very soon!

masterlist

[emsdevs]

Jack, Do You Think About Me?

a/n: this has been a thought in my head since this song came out! here's a little jack x famous singer!reader inspired by noah by megan moroney. enjoy :)

You and Jack had gotten together the summer after you both turned seventeen. Your relationship was good, but good wasn’t always enough. You’d skip class together, riding around in his car, blasting “Record Year” by Eric Church. You were completely his, but he didn’t belong to you, not really. When he got drafted, he made the decision that your relationship should end, so you both decided to live out your last summer together before ultimately calling it quits the day before he got on a plane to New Jersey. 

Now, it had been years since you had seen him. You checked on him every once in a while, through the internet or mutual friends. You wanted the best for him, and he’d always own a piece of your heart. You couldn’t let him have all of it anymore though. You had met a nice guy, just a couple of years older than you, at your job. You were fresh out of college and quite nervous, but he had helped you settle in. Before long, you and the guy, Liam, had realized there was a spark between the two of you. He asked you out, and a few nights later you found yourself on a dinner date with him. Liam was great, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wasn’t Jack.

Not long after you and Liam officially got together, you decided to pursue your dreams and started uploading covers and your own songs to YouTube. After just a couple of months, you had gotten discovered and signed a deal with a record label. Liam was right there with you, supporting you through it all, but you couldn’t help but think about when Jack would tell you he’d never heard a voice more beautiful than yours. Now you’re touring, and it’s affecting your relationship with Liam. 

“I never see you anymore. I just… I thought I could handle this, but I need someone who can be here. I can’t settle down with a girl who lives on a tour bus,” Liam seemed exhausted, and you were tired of arguing with him, especially after that last comment.

“Fine, you can find your way to the airport I assume, then?”

“Yeah. I’ll get outta your hair.”

That night, after your tears dried up, you did what you did best, write. Just hours later, you were looking at a song called “Break It Right Back” that summed up how you were feeling about your entire relationship. When your band met with you to practice the next day, you threw it into the mix with some of your other unreleased songs, letting them get a feel for how you pictured the melody sounding. You’d be performing in Buffalo, New York later that night, and you planned to debut it as a surprise song on the setlist. It would likely stay for the next few shows, just until you got all the feelings out.

Four nights later, you were playing Madison Square Garden, but unbeknownst to you, a certain boy you used to consider a brother dragged your ex and half of their hockey team to the VIP section of your show. You had made it to the halfway point, walking around the stage and interacting with fans. That’s when you see him, Jack Hughes, the boy you had never really gotten over. You locked eyes with him (the VIP section was rather close to the stage at your shows), and everything came rushing back. You continued on with the show, trying to play it off and act like you were fine, but all of that changed when it was time to play the surprise song. Originally, like in the past three shows, you were planning to play “Break It Right Back”, but something stopped you. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew you had to try one last time. You stopped your band and began to give the audience a little speech.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… We were supposed to play “Break It Right Back” right now, but I feel like I should perform another song for you guys. I uhh… I wrote this song a while back. It’s about an ex of mine. We were um… we were together for about a year in high school, but our lives led us in different directions. So yeah, um… this one’s called “Noah”, and yes, I changed the guy’s name. So no one go searching for someone named Noah that you think I dated because I didn’t,” you tried to joke a little at the end, attempting to calm your nerves. Your band knew the song and started playing it perfectly. You couldn’t look anywhere near Jack, terrified of what his reaction might be. Soon, you were at the bridge, and your eyes were briefly drawn to his before you started singing, “It’s more problematic than it is innocent and sweet. You’re more like a secret I wish I didn’t have to keep, and I bet by now you’ve found somebody new. I did too, but when I lie down next to him sometimes I’d rather it be with you.” 

You finished the song, still not daring to glance Jack’s way, and then you reveled in the cheers from the audience, who had clearly enjoyed you performing a never-before-heard song. 

Once the show was finished, you went back to your dressing room after sharing a hug with your band and vocalists. You took a breath, letting yourself calm down from the adrenaline rush you still get from performing. A moment later, you hear a knock on the door. Assuming it’s your manager, you tell them to come in, but you’re shocked to see a gaggle of hockey players huddled in the doorway. The two in the front stand out the most to you though. You’d be able to recognize a Hughes brother anywhere, and now there were two right in front of you. Luke decides he’s done wasting time, quickly moving forward and engulfing you in a hug. All of the boys, even the ones you had never met, gave you their congratulations and told you how much they enjoyed the show. It wasn’t long before Luke was coming up with an excuse to usher everyone but Jack out of the room, hoping you two could work things out. 

“You did great out there,” Jack started the conversation.

“Thanks. I guess I have to come watch you play hockey now, huh?” you chuckle, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Did you write that song about me?” Jack cut to the chase, tired of dancing around the subject.

“Jack- I… If it bothers you, I won’t release it, and I’ll never perform it again. I just needed to let you know how I felt when I saw you in the audience.”

“It doesn’t bother me, I swear. It makes me happy. I think about you a lot. Honestly, I don’t know that I ever got over you, and the biggest mistake of my life was not even trying to make the distance work with you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We both needed to grow on our own. Look at where we both are, living our dreams. If we didn’t break up, I probably wouldn’t be here, and your game is so good right now! Please don’t feel bad,” you tried to reassure him.

“Do you uhh… Do you think we could try again? I mean- I know you’re on tour right now, and I’m just on a short break before games start back again. But I need you around again. I really think we could make it work this time.”

“I think we could make it work too, J. How about we start out slow okay? Get to know each other again?”

“I can work with that,” Jack breathed out a sigh of relief, wrapping you in a hug. Both of you were happy to be revisiting something that made you both so happy. You didn’t know if Jack would be your forever, but you’re content to work together with him to see if he would be. At least now you could think about him without feeling guilty.

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[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

005 》 HAN JISUNG

you needed a night out, you needed to have fun— at least that’s what yunho told you. when chan invites your group to a music festival where his curly headed roommate would also be, will it be what you need to get you back on track? or will you start from square one, again?

wc 15.5k my bad y’all its getting serious now | drinking, smoking, kissing, suggestive, music festival vibes, sadness, tiny gets fucked up. vomit but not descriptive. hanjis sexy

“have you guys ever thought about your wedding?” 

of course you thought about getting married, your wedding, every little girl does— walking down the aisle next to her father, meeting the love of her life at the altar… all of it seemed so futile after your father passed, you haven’t thought about it as a true reality since then, more of a pipedream.

you didn’t know if you were simply driving yourself insane or if you really were obsessed with mingyu, but every single waking thought you’ve had since saturday was about getting married, knowing you were nowhere near that stage of your life but for some reason… questioning it. maybe even excited for it. 

everything with mingyu has felt meant to be so far… maybe it was.

the entire table looked at you in silence– eight pupils staring into your soul, wondering where the fuck that came from. yunho was quick to shut you down. 

“i don’t even want to ask, tiny.”

“i’m serious! have you even considered what you’d want in a partner? what your wedding would look like?” you were in dreamland, sparkles in your eyes and everything as you stared up at the high ceilings of your kitchen. yeosang and san had brought over dinner, which led to the five of you seated on barstools around your kitchen island in silence, up until now. 

“sexy and rich,” yeosang didn’t even look up, mouth full as he digged deeper into his meal. 

san nodded in agreement– “my wedding will be big enough to make everyone attending jealous, small enough to make others wish they were invited.���

“you’re both shallow,” you grumble, picking at your plate, moving your food around. you glance at your twin, “ace, what about you? do you think reia’s the one?” 

ace lets out a nervous chuckle, one that sounds exactly like yours, “i– uh, maybe. possible.”

you pop a brow, sitting back in your stool, straightening your back. you weren’t the only one that picked up on it, the entire table noticed his shift in energy, the change in tone. yunho asks, “what’s going on?”

ace groans in defeat when there was never an argument to begin with, elbows hitting the granite, palms digging into his eyes. “i think reia’s going to break up with me.” 

“why?” your voice is loud, surprised. you take it down a notch, “what happened?” 

he leans back, moving his hands away from his face and you notice that he looks tired. bags under his eyes, his skin looked dull, his freckles weren’t freckling like they usually did. you blamed it on school and the stress he’d been under– you didn’t think reia had anything to do with it. last time you checked, how ace felt about reia is how you felt about mingyu. 

“she’s been saying shit like how i’m not giving her enough attention, not seeing her enough, all i care about is school and when i’m not doing homework i’m with you guys,” he huffs, his voice sounding weak now that he’s finally admitting it. 

“why doesn’t she come hangout with us?” yeosang asked, but you were sure that’s what you were all thinking. “she’s usually here all the time, and your workload for school hasn’t changed.”

“i guess she’s been feeling this way for awhile,” ace stretched his arms over his head, lifting his eyebrows, expression saying he’s had this conversation already– with her. “we don’t have enough one on one time.”

yunho leans over the counter, palm holding up his baseball cap covered head, “get an airbnb for a weekend, take her somewhere nice, just the two of you. she’s probably feeling underappreciated and overwhelmed with her own schoolwork.” 

“that’s actually a good idea,” ace marvels, a semblance of light returning to his eyes, “you’re so good with girls, bro. incredible how you’re still single.” 

yunho smiles, “incredible how i manage to fight ‘em off me.” 

yeosang rolls his eyes, “can we circle back to why teens is asking about marriage?” 

“no,” the three boys say in unison, all eyes landing on yeosang.

“okay, fine, riddle me this,” yeosang sits a little straighter, index finger pointing to the air in front of him, “tiny, whose never gone on a date before a month ago, shows up to dinner with her prehistoric boyfriend and starts talking about marriage. no one wants to ask any questions?” 

you gasp, “yeosang! he is not—”

“that’s actually a good point,” san shrugs, “we haven’t talked about him yet.”

“how old is he anyways?” yunho asks, both elbows on the table now, long fingers folded over one another on the top of his palms. 

your cheeks flush, near mumbling as you redirect your attention back to the food in front of you, hoping no one notices the warmth on your skin. you were waiting for this question, scared of this question. “thirty.” 

“tiny.” ace’s tone is firm, disappointed even if he only said your name— the underlying message is clear to you. you break your staring contest with your plate to look up to him, there are a million words on his tongue, but he says none of them. 

your face burned in embarrassment, you were scrambling for something to say, small tuts leaving your lips instead. you didn’t know how to defend it, defend him— you were still debating it yourself. they didn’t know this was currently a sensitive topic, that you’d been non stop questioning your relationship with mingyu for almost forty eight hours, worried that it won’t work out because of that very reason. 

san giggles, “we knew you had daddy issues, teens, would’ve never expected you to fuck someone old enough to be one. props to you, actually.” 

your world went silent, the insult flipping a switch within you. your train of thought skipped right past anger to hurt, tears quickly filling your eyes. you fled from the kitchen— two palms flat on the granite countertop pushed you off of your stool, legs racing through your hallway. you only heard yunho scold san with a stern drag of his name as your legs took you to up your bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

that wasn’t the conversation you intended to open by asking that question. you were once again putting your foot in your mouth, regretting sharing your thoughts, it was as if san had that statement locked and loaded–– ready to hit its target. your boys had always said whatever they thought, feelings be damned, you forgot how much it hurt to be on the receiving end. 

it felt like you were younger when they’d tease you relentlessly, only stopping when ace made them. you haven’t felt that way in a long time, their teasing now was lighthearted, and you did it right back— it’s been years since you’ve been in tears in your bedroom over something one of the boys said. 

as you laid on your back, sprawled across your mattress, you began to think, and what san said started to make more and more sense as you thought about it. daddy issues— your tears dried without you noticing. mingyu’s age, his career, his stability, the pet names, how he took care of you already, his dominating nature that ‘only came out with you… you ate up every moment— you loved it, even. 

but it was all because of one thing, and as much as you hated it, san hit it right on the money. 

“teens?” he spoke before he knocked, three rhythmic taps of his knuckles against your door. 

“go away, yunho,” you frown, turning on your side with your back facing the door even if he couldn’t see you. 

“let me in,” he urged, you could see his scowl through the wooden slab that separated you. “i’m sorry for what san said– san is sorry for what he said. please let me talk to you.”

you sighed, you knew he wouldn’t go away, he’d sit there until you opened up whether that be in one hour or six. you got up, unlocking your door, but you didn’t open it. you let him open it himself as he followed you inside your room, you plopped onto your bed lifelessly, your body a dead weight. he followed you, sitting at the foot of your bed, resting a hand on your ankles that laid one over the other. 

“he shouldn’t of said that,” yunho started, “it was fucked up. he crossed a line.” 

“he’s right,” your throat constricted, words fighting their way through. your words become quieter, a strain on your vocal chords, “i thought mingyu was perfect.”

“what did i tell you?” yunho leaned across your legs so he could see your face that was laid on the pillow. you looked down at him as he said, “you deserve someone who���s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important.” 

you blinked, tears returning to you, filling up your waterline. “he does all of those things, he makes me feel that way, and now i’m supposed to be normal when i know the only reason i feel this way about him is because my dad is dead? because matt fucking sucks?”

yunho purses his lips, his body stiffening on top of your legs. “tiny, there’s eight years between you. he’s fooling around with you, it’s not right.”

“i know our age difference already!” your voice raises, “he’s done everything right, yunho. you don’t know him, you didn’t even try to get to know him when he was here, instead you sulked in your bad mood like a child. what was that even about?” 

“don’t get pissed at me because of something san said,” he sits up, his weight lifted from your legs, his eyes looking everywhere but at you as he continues. “i was just in a bad mood saturday, it wasn’t about anything.” 

“you’re lying, jeong yunho. you forget that i know you,” you sit up, too, facing him feet apart on your mattress. he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, he wasn’t expecting you to call him out.

“you’re missing the point,” he sighs, looking down at your mattress, reining in the topic at hand. “i don’t know him, but i don’t need to. eight years of life is longer than you think, he knows a lot more than you, you just started going on dates. you don’t know anything, tiny.” 

“i know enough,” you shake your head, “i know that i like him a lot and that’s enough for me.” 

“so what, you want to be married within the next two years?” he looked back up to you, his face was unreadable, but his voice was firm, truthful. he meant every word he said. “miss out on being in your twenties? miss out on dating? learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things. learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?” 

you blink, “is that why you’re single? experiencing life, dating around, fucking who you please because you can? sounds boring to me.” your words are curt, intended to sting. “i’d much rather learn and experience with someone, grow together as a unit.”

“be realistic, think like you’re twenty two, not like you’re still seventeen,” he bites, sending the sting right back to you. after a moment’s pause, he speaks, his voice soft. “i’m single because i’m waiting.”

“for what?” you ask, eyebrows knitted together, tears still dancing down your cheeks. “how do you know? …what you’re waiting for?” 

“it’s not for what, tiny— it’s for who.”

──────  ꨄ︎

“i have an idea,” chan was smiling ear to ear, you wondered if the two of you would ever pay attention to your lecture again, two weeks in a row spent talking the entire class. “me and my roommates are going to a music festival this weekend, you should come.”

your lips form a line, “chan, if this is about–”

“hear me out!” he interjects, a finger coming up between you, silencing you. you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms as he continues. “i know you’re seeing someone, but this will get jisung off my back and you can get a feel for him without making it an actual thing.”

seeing someone feels sour, you ignore it— “okay, let me hear your plan.”

“it’s a music festival, so it’s not like it’s some private, real date like going to dinner or something. you can bring your friends, i’ll be with mine, we can meet up and it can be a group thing so you have people to hangout with if you aren’t into hanji,” he raises his eyebrows with a smile as he awaited your response, “not bad, right?”

you think about it for a second– it’s not a terrible idea, and you did owe chan for your own date with him. you nod, “when is it?”

“saturday, i’ll text you the link for tickets. me and my three roommates are going, jisung jihoon and jeongin, everybody’s single,” he winks, “they’re all music people.”

“and all of their names start with J,” your eyebrows furrow, “how did you manage that?”

he shrugs, “me and jisung were roommates, jeongin and jihoon were roommates, we got an apartment together sophomore year and it just happened to be that way. i’m the only non-music major and the only one whose name doesn’t start with a J,” he brings his attention to his laptop, pulling up the website for the music festival. 

“it’s all weekend long, you probably don’t want to go all weekend so just come for one day,” he says, pulling up the lineup on the screen. you scan the list and you know several artists, it seems fun, and the idea was well thought out. it wasn’t necessarily a date, but instead a place you would just happen to be at together– you would barely have to talk to jisung if you didn’t want to. 

you didn’t have to tell mingyu, either— not that he’d have an issue if you did. being wednesday now, you haven’t seen him since sunday morning, and since monday night… there was no way he couldn’t tell something was off. where you were usually bubbly on the phone with him, over text, you’d turn monotonous without even realizing. the whole relationship began to feel stale after what san said, after your talk with yunho. you weren’t sure if any of your feelings were legitimate anymore.

chan texts you the link and you immediately send it to your groupchat, telling the boys to clear their schedules and to buy their tickets (you tell san to get one for you, too. he owes you). you were met with no pushback, all of the boys agreeing except ace— he was taking reia away for the weekend, using yunho’s idea. 

“i’m so excited,” chan beams, scrolling through the website, “it’s really cool, we’ve gone every year since we started here. tell your friends that my roommates are single.”

“i’ve never been to a music festival before, just random concerts here and there. you’ll have to show us etiquette,” you snicker when you realize exactly what he’s implying with his roommates— you didn’t think any of your three boys had gotten any in awhile. “i will definitely let them know.” 

as you walked out of class and into the brisk, october air, a certain car stuck out like a sore thumb in the parking lot. sitting idly and illegally was a BMW pulled up beside the curb, closest to the building of your class— completely blacked out, tinted windows with a gold seventeen decal on the back window on the driver’s side… that car belonged to one person and one person only.

he stepped out of his car as soon as you walked out of the building, dressed in all black business casual attire, sunglasses on his face. you bid chan goodbye without as much as a glance, feet drifting toward mingyu so fluidly and without thought you could’ve been floating all over again. maybe he did cast a spell on you.

mingyu stepped around the vehicle to open his passenger side door, greeting you with a smile, “hey, princess.” he kissed you on the head before you slid into the seat, the smell of his cologne and fresh leather hitting your nose as he shut the door behind you. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked as he got into the driver’s seat, putting the car into reverse. you began feeling awkward, confused, your talk with yunho came to mind again– mingyu’s presence made it too easy to forget all of your worries. 

“don’t sound too excited, i’m taking you to lunch,” he shot you a tight lipped smile as he put his car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“mingyu,” you breathed with a small shake of your head. you hadn’t even gotten all of your thoughts in order, you wanted to wait before you talked to him, you knew it was coming eventually— he did, too. 

“don’t say anything,” he kept his gaze on the road in front of him, the sun shining through his windshield, kissing his soft, golden skin. he let his hand fall to your thigh. “just… let me do this.” 

“okay,” you said, flushing as the weight of his palm hit your skin. electricity shot through you every time you were with him, every time he touched you— it had to mean something. 

or did you just want it to? 

he pulled into the parking lot of a diner, a small one near your campus. you loved diners, you used to go with your family growing up once a week— every sunday morning, stopping shortly after you turned twelve. your blood thrummed in excitement under your skin. 

you sat in a booth, a quietness consuming the two of you, you thought maybe he didn’t know what to say— you definitely didn’t. mingyu broke the silence first. 

“you want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“there’s nothing to tell, nothing going on, i mean,” you barely looked up from your menu when you knew what you wanted to order in the parking lot. how do you tell someone that the only reason you’re interested in them is because you’re wired to? 

he sighed, laying his menu down on the table. the waitress comes and takes your orders, leaving you to silence once again. 

“the only way this is going to work is if you’re honest,” his voice is more serious than it usually is. you have nothing to hold in your hands anymore— it feels like you’re back at that expensive restaurant when mingyu first brought you on an impromptu lunch date. you feel exposed.

you run a hand through your hair, “i don’t know, mingyu.” you pause, then internally said fuck it. “you said you won’t rush anything with me, but what if i’m just holding you back?” 

“how would you be holding me back?” his eyes were full of concern as he leaned forward, arms folding across the table. 

“you’re thirty, ready to get married, start a family,” you shake your head, “i’m not even close to being there yet.” 

“i met you two weeks ago,” a chuckle leaves his lips, trying to relieve the tension brought by your statement, “why is that on your mind?” 

“you shouldn’t be wasting your time, mingyu. you’re fooling around with a twenty two year old,” your own words weren’t leaving your lips— they were yunho’s. 

“fooling around?” his eyes were raised as if you insulted him. “if i was fooling around i wouldn’t have made so much of an effort. wouldn’t have cooked for you, met your family, i would’ve fucked you the day i met you and never spoken to you again.” 

the gears turn in your head, he said it so simply, you knew it was to help put you at ease— it hurt instead. he continues, “i’ve been serious about you since the day you met me for lunch. i like you.” 

“and what happens when you meet someone who’s ready?” you bite, your brain swirling with mingyu’s testimony but also the advice from your twin. “if your ex comes back to this side of the country, if you meet someone who doesn’t have a dead dad, someone actually meant for you.” 

mingyu laughs— the chuckle was not out of amusement, it was dry and venomous and knowing. “there it is.” 

“what?” you ask, shifting in the old leather booth as if you were in the hot seat. 

“they got into your head, didn’t they?” he shakes his head, a sarcastic smile on his face, “i knew they didn’t like me, your friends, your brother— you would never say that on your own.” 

“nobody ‘got to me’, mingyu,” you argue, your fingers twisting on the table between you because they did get to you and you know that, but you think they might be right. “how do you know what i would say and wouldn’t say? like you said, we met two weeks ago.”

his face hits his palms as he sighs, they slide over his skin in frustration, “was it yunho?” 

“what?” your back presses against the cushion of the booth, “was what yunho?” 

the waitress brings your food to the table, halting your conversation or argument. a part of you wanted to thank her for cutting you off, you didn’t know if you wanted him to continue— not when yunho was brought into the conversation. he did, though, as soon as she walked away from the table. 

he cut into his meal– “yunho doesn’t like me.”

“he has never once said that, mingyu,” you respond, cutting into your french toast. diners were best for all day breakfast.

“he doesn’t need to,” he was smiling again, not out of happiness, you couldn’t place his emotions based on his face. his words didn’t match it. “game’s game. this whole conversation is ridiculous, can’t you see that?” 

“what are you talking about?” your eyebrows blend together, so furrowed in confusion you were sure you looked animated, “what am i not seeing?” 

“it’s besides the point,” he pays attention to his food again, his tone laced with irritation. “i like you, i’ve been trying to be consistent with showing how much i like you— how much i want to do this the right way.” 

“i understand if you think we can’t be together because of our age, because of your past, things out of your control, but i want you to know that i don’t agree. i don’t think any of that should be used to factor whether we work or not because i think we work really well.” 

“i think we get along really well, too,” you said, sounding like you were the one trying to convince him now – you snapped yourself back into reality, what you felt, what you knew, not the bubble mingyu put you in. “in the long run i… mingyu i don’t know if i’m ready for all of this.”

“all of what?” he was getting frustrated now, furrowed brows and a tight jaw, “i haven’t tried to take this even one step further. are you scared of what it could turn into?”

“yes, it feels real,” you shake your head, “it feels really real.”

“in any other situation that’d be a good thing,” he takes a hand through his hair, sitting back in the booth, “maybe you’re right. too young, i guess.”

regret washes over you like a bucket of cold water, but you don’t falter in your words, reciting them from someone else’s mouth. “eight years is a lot longer than i thought it was, you know more than i do– i just started dating.”

he nods, lips pursed, but he says nothing for a few moments. you stare at him with flushed cheeks, an uneasiness sitting at the pit of your stomach. it was fight or flight, and there’s nowhere to run– literally. 

“finish your meal and i’ll take you back to campus,” you couldn’t read his tone, but it was definitely not happy. 

like you always did with mingyu, whether you wanted to or it was installed in you, you obeyed. you spent the rest of your meal wishing you could say something else, words at the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t find the voice to say. he paid for your meal, a gentleman until the end, and drove you back to campus. 

“before you go, can i just say one thing?” he says as he turns to you, flipping his sunglasses on top of his head. you nod. 

“you don’t have to listen to them,” he says and your mouth parts to speak, but he cuts you off. “you may think they know everything about you because you grew up with them, but they don’t know how you feel. they don’t know my intentions for you, they don’t know how much i like you.”

“i know you’ve been through a lot in your life and they were there for you every step of the way, but i’d treat you so fucking well. i would never pressure you into marriage, or having kids or whatever worries have been put into your pretty little brain. i’d do whatever you wanted– if you wanted to travel, i’d take you on trips, we could explore every little school on the opposite side of the world. if you wanted to open your own damn school, i’d do that with you, i’d help you. i don’t want you to walk away with the idea that i’m not the one for you— we both know this would’ve worked if you let it.” 

jaw slack and eyes filled with tears, you stared at him. you blinked once, twice, then your lips were on his before you could even process that you had moved an inch. 

you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important. 

isn’t that what this is? isn’t this what you’ve been looking for? your brain whirled, mingyu’s tongue licking into your mouth, his huge palms holding your wet cheeks. 

learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things.

tears flowed down your skin, onto mingyu’s fingers, he just kissed you harder. 

learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?

there was only one way this could end– you needed it to end, now, or else you’d never leave his car. you pulled away from mingyu, wide eyed and so fucking confused. you hated yourself in this moment– it felt like being pulled into your living room when mingyu was in your kitchen. being pulled towards comfort and familiarity, when what your future could be was waiting for you, missing you, hoping you’d stay. 

“i’m sorry,” was all you could get out before you were pushing the car door open and racing towards your own.

──────  ꨄ︎

figuring out an outfit for a music festival was hard to begin with, you had too many factors adding onto it that made the task a thousand times worse. you could barely get yourself out of bed this morning for starters, you hopped in the shower half past eleven when you needed to leave at one. because it was late october and most music festivals were held in the summer, even pinterest wasn’t helping you with inspiration. on top of that, having three men in your bedroom without a lick of a feminine fashion sense made it borderline overstimulating, they threw ideas at you while their outside clothes laid all over your unmade bed– it tipped you over the edge. the only good part was that it’s cold outside. 

you went casual– you needed to, you’d be outside for hours and alcohol can only heat you up so much. baggy jeans, a hoodie and an oversized jacket on top, you accessorized with a baseball cap and some sneakers and you were set. a mini purse with nothing but your ID and some lip gloss sat on your shoulder, sunglasses on your face, you’d be warm, comfortable and cute. 

when you walked downstairs to the three boys sitting in your living room, you realized you were all wearing different versions of the same outfit. you copied them without even realizing– naturally, they noticed, and had plenty to say about it. you didn’t care enough to change. 

the drive to the festival wasn’t terrible, little traffic until you got closer to the venue, yunho drove with loud music playing through the speakers and the other two singing along in the backseat. when you arrived, you immediately sent a text to chan letting him know you arrived.

“i want a drink,” you said as soon as you walked through security, yunho on your left and the other two on your right. “who’s paying for it?” 

“why can’t you pay for it? you should buy us drinks,” yeosang huffed, digging his hands further into his pockets. 

“you’re in the clear,” you moved a little closer to yeosang, bumping your shoulder against his. “i didn’t bring money, the other two are responsible for ruining my relationship with mingyu, so they get to buy my drinks all night.” 

san gasps, “i am not responsible–” 

“surfside?” yunho asks, eyes already scanning the area for the nearest bar, not wanting to begin that conversation again. his figure stood over the massive crowd already formed around you, your group definitely did not get there early. 

“yes, please,” a small smile sat on your face as you followed yunho towards the nearest bar, pleased with how quickly he agreed, he bought drinks for the two of you– leaving san and yeosang to fend for themselves. 

san grumbles, “you should buy me a drink for how mean you’ve been.” 

you point your eyes at him and he shrinks under your gaze, voice growing small as he said, “i’ll buy the next round.” 

you walked through the crowd, so many different kinds of people surrounded you. a range of ages, dressed in clothes much more appropriate for a music festival than yours. the energy of the space was so bright, so welcoming, it was beckoning your mood to brighten– you wished you could let it. 

you stayed close to at least one of the three, keeping your eyes peeled under your sunglasses for a blonde boy no taller than five foot eight. he was nowhere to be found, as you assumed since the venue was so massive. you walked up to the first stage, the main stage which was one you wanted to see, a small indie band. you knew some songs, but you wouldn’t know an entire setlist– the show you really wanted to see wasn’t until later. 

being after three and you hadn’t ingested anything other than your morning (afternoon) coffee, the surfside you had taken about four sips of was already going straight to your head. you wore a disinterested look even though the stage was good, the band was putting on a great show, you’ve been miserable since wednesday. you missed mingyu, even if your time together was short– you figured that you might be perpetually stuck between if your choice was right or if you regret it completely. 

“drummer’s hot,” yeosang comes to your side, bumping his shoulder into yours again. 

you shoot him a tight lipped smile, “he’s alright.” 

“bro, cheer up,” he frowns, “if you were normal you’d be drooling over him right now.” 

you roll your eyes, “cheer me up instead of complaining, then.” 

“where’s the whiskey date guy? aren’t we supposed to be meeting up with him?” yeosang asks and you pull out your phone from your pocket, four texts from chan filling your screen. 

chan: UR HERE!!!! chan: wya

chan: hello

chan: were going to the main stage meet us there

already being at the main stage, you typed back a quick response then looked around through your shaded lenses, the blonde nowhere to be found. you nudged yunho’s side, asking him to look for chan instead, he could see a lot better than you could. as he looked out into the crowd farther than your eyes could see, chan found you first. 

“hey!” you heard to your left, a voice that belonged to the one you were searching for. you whipped your head around, a genuine smile surprising you as it filled out your cheeks, waving him over. 

“you found me! i just texted you back,” you said as he wrapped you into a short hug of greeting. 

he stepped back, looking around you, “where are your friends?” 

“here?” you said with eyebrows raised, yeosang, san and yunho coming forward to stand at your sides. “this is san, yeosang and yunho.” 

“oh,” a questioning look grew on his face, then he stepped closer to you, speaking quieter so only you could hear. “when i said bring your friends, i was not expecting a bunch of…dudes?” 

you giggled, “surprised i’m not with a group of girls?”

“for some reason, it explains a lot,” he shrugs and you raise your eyebrows, asking him to explain without verbalizing it. “you aren’t… shy in the way a lot of girls are, i guess, i don’t know, you talk about your relationship problems with me. plus, we’re in the same outfit.”

you look him up and down, realizing he is yet another person you’ve stolen fashion inspiration from. you smack a hand over your mouth, “oh god, you too?” giggles threaten to slip through your palm, before you shrug and say, “i’m one of the guys, i guess.”

“ew,” he physically cringes, “never say that again.”

three guys approached behind chan and you first spot jisung, the one you didn’t meet at chan’s apartment. he looked the same, a mop of brown curls sat atop his head, big, thin frames on his face, a hoodie and baggy jeans on his body. he looked just as cute as the day you first saw him, like a chipmunk you’d spot outside of your living room window on a spring day. 

he wasn’t sexy, he wasn’t massively muscular, he wasn’t six foot three or thirty years old— he wasn’t mingyu. no one could be.

“these are my friends,” chan pointed to each friend as he said, “jisung, jeongin and jihoon.” 

“ah, the J’s!” you introduced yourself to the three of them, your groups quickly merging to create small talk. chan stood close to you, guiding your conversation with his roommates, you talked about the festival, what bands were playing, until you settled into a layer of comfort to speak freely. the surfside was definitely helping. 

you quickly realized the three boys were more reserved, unlike chan– or they were at least not comfortable enough yet to cut through san and yeosang’s voices, who were quickly dominating the conversation with chan. 

“the next band playing is really good,” jihoon finally interrupts, looking around the group with a gaze which didn’t seem shy, instead calculated, like he was waiting for the right moment to speak. he was shorter than everyone, long, black hair laid over his shoulders, you could see the muscles beneath the black tee he wore, nearly masked by the black jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders. he gave the vibe that he had his shit together– clean, healthy, confident. “do you guys want to stay? who are you here to see?” 

“jungle is playing later,” you reply, “on stage B i believe, at eight? i want to see them the most.” 

“TV girl is playing at six,” yeosang cuts in, warm brown hair that’s gotten noticeably longer was falling over his temples now, “still woozy plays in about an hour.”

“you like still woozy?” jeongin asked yeosang, as if hearing jihoon’s voice gave him the confidence to speak up himself. the two were just about the same height, yeosang was maybe an inch taller than jeongin. his face was insane, to say the least– sharp jaw, high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes that curved up ever so slightly at the edges. he was the other one out of the four that resembled an animal in the most gorgeous way, black hair laying across his forehead that made the shadows of his face deepen further. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model, if not a fox turned human– you wondered if he had any interest in you.

“where have you been keeping them?” you say in chan’s ear, leaning closely into his side. chan chuckles, looking down at the ground, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. 

“i keep them locked in their rooms, they’re only allowed out during feeding time,” he jokes, a wide smile on his face, voice turning to a hushed whisper as he says, “stop ogling them, jisung will get jealous.” 

“then jisung should do something about it,” you retort as you bring your gaze back to the group– jisung couldn’t see who you were looking at anyways, you still had your sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose.

“let him get a few more drinks in him, he will,” chan nods nonchalantly as he looks away from you. you rolled your eyes under the shades– you didn’t care either way, but the outright admittance of jisung needing alcohol to talk to you rubbed you the wrong way. 

your group travels to another stage, watching a different group play while waiting for still woozy to start their performance. jisung trailed behind the group with jihoon, the two seemed to be a pair so far, then yeosang, san and jeongin had split off to the side. you walked between yunho and chan, three quarters of your surfside had already heated you up enough to where the bite of the air was more of a light nibble on your cheeks. 

“i need another,” you said in san’s direction, wiggling your can that had little liquid left in it. 

san frowns, “already?” 

you threw the last bit of liquid back, swallowing it quickly, and handed it to san. “yes, please.”

he grabs the can from your hands and turns to the group, wearing a look of irritation even if he doesn't care at all– he’ll let the act go on for as long as he deems necessary. drama queen. “anyone else need another?” 

chan and his roommates hadn’t gotten drinks yet, and yeosang needed a refill– leaving you alone with yunho, where you stood watching the random band playing on the stage. 

“the curly headed one is interested in you,” yunho comments without looking at you, voice flat as he brings his beer to his lips to take a sip. it should catch you off guard how quickly he noticed without you and jisung having any interactions so far, but you were done with being inside yunho’s head. 

you let out a sound of amusement instead, “and?” 

“just letting you know,” he looks down at you, “it seems you know already.” 

you shoot him a pointed look before turning back to the stage, the two of you falling into silence. your stomach grows warm, the drink you’d already chugged down had begun fulfilling its purpose– warming you up first and foremost, helping you forget how miserable you’d become second. 

“i don’t know what to say to you to make things better,” yunho admits, keeping his focus on the band. his mouth twists to one side, discomfort sitting on his features, you two hadn’t really spoken since wednesday. 

you came home the day you ended things with mingyu in tears, anger replacing every atom in your body as if you’d become a pot overflowing with boiling water– you lost it, all of your feelings were directed at both san and yunho. they were sitting on the couches in your living room, completely blindsided when you decided they alone were responsible for how your relationship with mingyu ended. both boys had fought you on it.

ace didn’t have it in him to mediate your argument, he had his own relationship issues to work through, instead he and yeosang watched the three of you yell at each other for minutes until you fully broke down. not once did either of them tell you to make up with mingyu, to reconsider their words, but instead they consoled you for the two week long relationship you were clearly grieving– it pissed you off even more.

after you had time to process the argument, you realized all you wanted was their approval– you wanted them to tell you to get back with him, you wanted them to like him as much as you did, as much as you do. for three days now you've been sitting with your anger, only giving curt responses around your house, spending most of your time in your bedroom, you considered not even coming today. 

you needed to get out– you needed a boyfriend before thanksgiving. 

“there’s nothing for you to say,” you shrug, then cross your arms over your chest. “even if i reached out to him now, i don’t think he’ll ever see me as anything other than an immature twenty two year old. it’s done.” 

he sips his beer again. “you are an immature twenty two year old.” you snap your gaze up at him, ready to bite back, but he continues. “that’s what you’re supposed to be, this is how it should be.” 

a dry laugh escapes you, one that lets him know there was nothing funny at all. “how it should be? at a music festival waiting for a guy to get the balls to speak to me?” 

he speaks through an exhale, “at least this guy is your age, tiny.”

you step to the side, giving yourself space from him, not wanting to slip into a fit of anger and ruin the day for everyone, you know you will if you continue the conversation. your mind whirls as you keep your gaze locked on the stage, not hearing one beat of the drum nor a single strum of the guitar, ears ringing as you try to calm yourself down. 

“i’m sorry,” he says as he steps closer, his voice quiet, only for your ears. “i didn’t think you’d be this hurt, i guess.”

“i came home bawling my eyes out and screamed at you,” you said, baffled, not fully believing him. you hadn’t argued over anything more serious than what you were having for dinner in years. “you didn’t think it hurt?” 

“i’ll stop meddling,” he pulls his lips together, forming a tight line. you see the group of boys returning to where you stood from behind yunho, drinks in tow, you turn to face the stage again. 

“you won’t have the chance to meddle again, i learned my lesson for good,” you say flatly, and he sighs. the sigh was both long and loud, he was truly defeated– he didn’t know how to handle you. you couldn’t comprehend why he felt the need to in the first place. 

“we should head to stage C,” chan says as soon as he returns, san right on his tail to hand you your drink. you were grateful yunho didn’t have the time to continue the conversation. you slap a smile on your face and thank him for the drink before asking chan who’s playing at stage C. 

chan smirks, “weezer.” 

“oh, brother,” you laugh, “let’s go.” 

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if you were starting to have a good time, but the time you spent watching weezer while you waited for still woozy to come on seemed to break up the dark cloud looming above you. chan stayed close, he was bleeding positive energy that you didn’t know if he was pushing onto you on purpose, or if it was just him. either way, the smile that sat on your face became more and more genuine, less forced as time went by. 

by the time you made it to still woozy’s set, you were past the level of comfortably warm and leaning towards hot. you stopped at the bar again after weezer, you were just tipsy enough to buy all eight of you a round of shots– the plan was not to get drunk, but that seemed to be the direction the day was going in, who were you to stop it? 

just before the set began, jeongin and yeosang had pulled your group by the wrists to fight through the crowd and get as close to the front as you could. you let yunho and san guide you into the mass of people, two walls of muscle and height to give you a path, the crowd didn’t bother you one bit. your smile was more than genuine now, you couldn’t wipe it off your face– this was a music festival, seeing bands you never would’ve thought of buying tickets for, a group of people gathered in one place that enjoyed the same music as you. you were already thinking of going to more. 

swaying side to side, singing a song you’d heard on repeat in yeosang’s car at the top of your lungs, you almost didn’t catch the eyes that couldn’t leave you. attached to a mop of curly brown hair, behind massive lenses, a gaze of chocolate brown accompanied by a small smile seemed entranced by you. you smiled back when you noticed, then turned your head back to the band– jisung took that as an invitation. 

walking up beside you, jisung didn’t say anything at first. his head nodded along to the song, curls bouncing across his forehead, fingers wrapped around a plastic cup. with a stomach full of vodka, you were almost excited– you wanted to encourage him, give him the confidence, tell him to say something. 

but you didn’t– and jisung still said nothing after the entire song. 

after the song ended, there was a moment of silence amongst the crowd, the inbetween waiting for the next song to play. you glanced around for your friends– yeosang and jeongin were mid conversation, yeosang’s body leaned into jeongin’s but not quite touching, his body language saying you weren’t the only one who found jeongin attractive. damn. 

yunho and jihoon stood behind everyone, the height difference between the two almost made you giggle, where san and chan stood next to them. the four weren’t speaking, but holding their drinks and watching the performance instead, all shooting you a warm look when you caught their eyes. 

you turned to jisung, “can you do me a favor?” he nodded, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “can you hold my drink while i take my jacket off, please?” 

he nodded again and you handed him your can, slightly struggling to get your jacket off over your sleeves. when you got it off, you threw it over your forearm, and jisung handed you your can back. 

“do you, uh– want me to hold your jacket?” he asked, his eyes wide and sparkling– his tone seemed unsure of his own words, but he still said them. 

“no, no, don’t worry about it,” you beamed, “thank you.”

as the next song started to play, a few strums of the guitar woke up the crowd, screams erupting around you. one of the screams had come from yeosang, who had his hands shaped in an oval around his mouth, making his yell that much louder.

you giggled and turned back to jisung who was also smiling in yeosang’s direction, “he really likes still woozy.”

“i would’ve never guessed,” he says sarcastically, his smile never dropping. “you seem to like them, too.” 

“i do, but not as much as yeo. he should be up at the barricade,” you point your chin in the direction of the front of the stage. 

“i think jeongin should go with him,” jisung shrugs, “they seem to be a pair.”

“by the end of the night someone will have to rip yeo off of him,” you joke, and jisung laughs. a soft chuckle, but you sense a wall come down, another shred of confidence popping through his reserved demeanor. you smile. 

“what about you?” jisung asks, eyes still moon-shaped, as if he was scared to ask the question. 

your eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side, “what about me?”

“chan said you had a boyfriend, he isn't here?” jisung’s lips form a line as if he was scared to hear the answer, your face immediately mimics his, but for an entirely different reason. you didn’t think jisung knew about mingyu, unless chan filled him in and didn’t tell you. you hadn’t filled chan in on the recent developments concerning mingyu, either. 

“i don’t have a boyfriend, i’m not seeing anyone,” you shake your head and turn to the stage. jisung felt the shift in mood, stepping forward, into your view. 

“sorry if i overstepped,” he shook his head, “chan said–”

“chan didn’t know, doesn’t know, you're fine,” you give him a weak smile, and the conversation runs flat. you took the last swig of your surfside– you needed this feeling gone, as if mingyu never happened in the first place. 

“do you want another drink?” jisung asks as soon as the can leaves your lips, “my treat.” 

you give him a singular nod, and before you could process it, jisung was leading you through the pack of people. you didn’t tell a soul where you were going, you walked right through the wall of boys as if they were waiting for you to run off with jisung. where the crowd was more condensed, jisung took a pause, making you stop in your tracks behind him. 

“gimme this,” he muttered as he grabbed your jacket and your empty can, then took your hand with his free one. “stay close to me.” 

your cheeks flushed as you nodded, the heat that was already consuming your entire being only grew in temperature. maybe he’s the type that’s only shy at first. your eyes stayed trained on your linked fingers, his hands were soft, calluses on the tips of his fingers that laid over your knuckles. 

“do you play guitar?” you asked as you made it to the outskirts of the crowd, jisung took a pause that had you flipping his hand over, inspecting the tougher skin atop his fingers. 

“uh— yes,” you glance up, his cheeks pink, the ends of his curls lying along the frames of his glasses. “i make music, i’m studying composing, songwriting, all that stuff.” 

“chan told me,” you smile as you let his fingers go, nearing the feeling of cuteness aggression the more you look at him. all you could muster was a breathy “that’s cool”.

his smile grew and he tugged on your hand again, rough fingertips laid on your knuckles once more as he pulled you towards the bar. behind it was a man who you, at first, couldn’t believe was a bartender— black hair that touched his broad shoulders, a slender figure with a muscular structure that seemed too curated for bartending to be his career. a black long sleeve shirt clung to every inch of him, baggy jeans that hung loose on his hips, an outfit you’d definitely be taking inspiration from. 

his face was nothing short of beautiful, plump lips, a white smile that sparkled when he asked what you’d be drinking. 

jisung turned to you with an eyebrow raised, a questioning look. you cleared your throat, “a surfside, please.” 

“miller, please,” jisung nodded towards him and the bartender shot you another smile before he was opening your cans. you were mesmerized as he grabbed the bar key with nimble fingers, cracking the tab with practiced movements, a speed that told you maybe this was his full time career. 

jisung paid as promised and you took your time making it back to stage C happily with small talk and a lazy stride, choosing to hang at the back of the crowd instead of fighting towards the middle where you stood before. 

jisung’s presence had enveloped your mind quicker than you thought it would, once you broke the ice it was easier to talk to him, speaking as freely as you would with someone who’d been your friend way longer than just a day. you didn’t talk of anything personal, not school, your family, your friends, your interests, your intentions, but instead small talk that came too easily, standing close while you swayed to goodie bag. 

it was comfortable— it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t staged, it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t even obvious that jisung was interested in you, there were no pickup lines, no quick-witted flirting, yet you knew and you might even like it. maybe what you need right now is simplicity. 

when your friends came out of the crowd in laughter and giddy smiles, you felt lighter, the energy around you felt brighter, the air felt clearer, you almost forgot you walked into the venue miserable. with TV girl playing shortly at another stage, there was no time to stand and talk, you and jisung quickly slipped into the crowd of your friend group mid-conversation as if you never ran off in the first place. 

“what’s your guys’ favorite song?” yeosang asked the group, bouncing on his feet as you approached the already formed crowd, jeongin at his side. 

“the whole french exit album,” you were first to answer. “birds don’t sing, louise, lover’s rock, the blonde.” 

“tiny’s a romantic,” you heard san announce, and it brings a smile to your face— whether it was sarcasm or a dig you didn’t care, maybe now you were a romantic. “i only know lover’s rock.” 

“tiny?” jisung asks, turning to you, an eyebrow raised. “that’s you?” 

“unfortunately,” you nod, “been tiny since the womb, practically.” 

“fitting,” jisung smacks his lips together and flattens his brows in contemplation then quickly to understanding— you couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. 

jihoon turns to chan, “you listen to TV girl a lot, right?” 

chan nods towards him, “you should know more than lover’s rock, i play their music all the time at home. better in the dark?” he glances around to empty stares, he raises his eyebrows with expectancy and sings, “the lighter makes a spark, but i look better in the dark.” 

jisung, jihoon and jeongin all simultaneously release a dragged out “oh” in remembrance, and chan rolls his eyes. he turns to you, “they don’t remember shit. too much weed, they smoke.” 

you giggle, then tilt your head to the side, an idea coming to mind. “did anyone bring any?” 

jihoon shoots you a lazy smile, “of course i did, you smoke?” 

you shake your head, “not particularly, but i’m down to.” 

jihoon reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet, several joints tucked into one of the folds. he plucks one out, wasting no time as he holds it between his fingers, your group tightens its circle around jihoon as if he was holding gold. 

yunho eyed you from the opposite side of the circle, where you were standing between chan and jisung, he was between san and jihoon. his eyes were observing, debating, a pointed look that forced you to notice it. you shrugged him off, smoking at a music festival just felt right— you didn’t want or need him to parent you, even if you had been drinking already. 

jihoon was quick to light the twisted end of the joint, the red hot flame of his black lighter was enough to color all of your faces an amber hue. you stood like kids, huddled around jihoon like he had a secret to tell, where he took three puffs of the joint to get it burning. your eyes widened as you watched his technique, how he blew on the end of the joint to keep it burning evenly, pink lips tightened to a perfect O shape– a gorgeous sight. 

the circle opens up as you begin passing, a sweet melody in your ear and a pungent smell in your nose, forcing your body into moving to the beat. jisung, beside you, sways his hips in the same motion as yours, a fit of giggles erupting from your lungs as you move in unison. too focused on jisung, you didn’t realize chan was holding the joint out to you. 

you inhaled slowly, you hadn’t smoked since the last time you were at the frats, that had been months ago. you knew the basics, you kept your hits of the joint small, especially since you had a few drinks in you, you were never really a smoker. socially, in the kitchen of a massive frat house, or on the balcony of the only person you consistently hooked up with at school, that only lasted just shy of a month.  

the burn in your lungs and the cough that fought to break through your lips felt nostalgic, you felt so light you could float up to the clouded night sky. immediately immersed into a sense of calm, like stepping into a bath of warm water, you smiled as you passed the joint to jisung. every bone in your body told you you needed that. 

your ears perked to the conversation happening around you, yeosang, san and jeongin in some sort of debate, the joint had made its way to yunho by now. you could feel everything slow down, your eyes hooding, sitting at half mast just from two hits. 

“ah,” jisung tilts his head back in delight, “that strain fucks, hoon.” you couldn’t stop the small giggle from leaving you at fucks.

jihoon smiles, confident as ever, “right?” he looks around the group before he adds, “i grew it myself.” 

san’s jaw drops as he takes the joint from yunho, “you grow it?” 

“right in my backyard,” jihoon nods, “it’s better that way.” 

you check out of the conversation, your focus back on the crowd, not a thought in your brain, yet instead paying attention to the hues of blue and pink that lay over the crowd like blankets. you could see backs of heads and nothing more, shaded eyes not quite reaching the stage, but the light show that cascaded over the mass of people was enough. 

you almost didn’t notice the presence next to you, you hadn’t even realized you moved, as jisung planted his feet directly next to yours, your neck nearly snapped up in surprise. 

“so pretty,” he says, eyes glazed over as they stared out into the crowd, his thoughts probably matched yours. 

“the lights?” you asked, flipping your sunglasses atop your head so you could see clearer.

“you mainly,” he looks down to you and you meet his eyes, not missing the pink that kissed his cheeks, “but yeah, i guess the lights, too.” 

your own cheeks flush– this was the first he was showing interest. you smile through a giggle, “that was smooth, jisung.”

“wanna get closer?” he asks you, reaching for your hand again before you had a moment to answer. 

as he pulled you along, you asked, “are you sure you don’t want to keep smoking?” 

he looks over his shoulder and it nearly takes your breath away, he’s so cute you think you’d follow him around all night, especially if he keeps looking at you like that. as if he’d go anywhere with you, as if he didn’t care about anything else, you saw his feelings in his eyes. he was into you. he smiles, “do you?”

“let’s go,” you nod your head and pull your sunglasses over your eyes again, headed behind jisung into the crowd that was packed like sardines. mumbles of ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ left him as he cut through people, keeping you close to him with a firm grip on your hand, you could feel the calluses on your knuckles so much more. 

when you made it somewhat towards the middle, a pocket of space amongst the crowd, jisung finally stopped and turned to you for approval. you put your sunglasses atop your head again, tucking your hair behind your ears, your view was so much better now. 

the music was louder, the lights were clearer, now it was just you and jisung– you weren’t sure if you were at the festival anymore or if you were up in the clouds. the only thing that could make this better would be if you could actually see the stage. you wish yunho had followed you.

as if he heard your thoughts, jisung’s voice was loud when he asked, “can you see?” 

you shook your head, “the lights are so pretty, it doesn’t even matter.” 

“you're going to think i’m crazy, don’t think i'm crazy,” he prefaces, bracing himself for rejection with a shy smile, “do you want to get on my shoulders?” 

you laugh in disbelief, loudly, looking at him with wide eyes and jaw slack. he raises his eyebrows, “you’re tiny, right?”

“i am tiny but not like that,” you wave your free hand in front of you, “i don’t want to hurt you.” 

he rolls his eyes with a cocky smile, “if you could see what was under the hoodie you wouldn’t be saying that.” 

your eyes widen impossibly further, that was the last thing you expected to leave his lips. a smirk appears on your own, “oh, now you’re confident, huh?” 

“is it working?” 

“maybe.” 

“then get on,” he squats down, your jacket still folded over his forearm but he’s careful not to let it touch the ground. you suck in a breath– this could go one of two ways, especially since you both drank and smoked, either you’ll have an incredible view or everyone will watch you fall to the dirt. 

fuck it. 

you swing a denim covered leg around his neck, slightly hopping up to straddle his nape. you giggle as you do, the action was almost sobering, the amount of focus it took you to balance. as he stood up your hands flew to his curls, the only thing you could think to grab onto to steady yourself, a slew of apologies leaving your lips after you accidentally tugged. 

“jisung!” you yelled, “i didn’t know what else to grab.” 

you could hear the shake of his shoulders as he laughed beneath your thighs, “i could make a terrible joke right now, but i’m not going to.” 

it takes you a moment to catch on, but when you do, you laugh. “nothing but a man.” 

“a man that has you on his shoulders,” he bites back, “enjoy the show.” 

you finally looked up and the stage was finally clear– shrouded in blue light, the members visible, the music so loud– it was nothing short of exhilarating. the thought crosses your mind that maybe this was what yunho was talking about, being in your twenties and experiencing, you don’t know if you would have ever made it onto mingyu’s shoulders in the crowd of a TV girl concert. you guess you’ll never know, and for the first time since wednesday, the thought didn’t fill you with dread - you supposed you have vodka and weed to thank.

instead you screamed– an excited scream, for the band, for the show, for how fucking good their music is. definitely high, more than a little drunk and nearly seven feet in the air, you were positive your night couldn’t get any better. there was nothing better than this. 

“hey!” you heard from beneath you, stealing your attention fully. jisung turns to the side, which turns you to the side, your entire friend group beneath you with wide grins and red, glossed over eyes. 

“hey guys!” you yelled back, your smile reaching ear to ear, “i’m up here!”

“we see you,” yeosang is smiling, “how’s the view?”

“incredible,” you’re gleaming, “this is so fucking cool!” 

san, yeosang and yunho all watch you with soft eyes, warmth in their bodies, you could read their emotions from their faces— superpowers only granted to those who have been friends for two decades. the other three boys stared at you with something like surprise on their faces, for that you could only guess what for, and you didn’t have the brain power to think that deeply about anything right now. you caught chan and yunho locking eyes, yunho shooting chan a dry nod as if to say ‘i told you so’.

you cocked your head to the side for a moment before the thought was gone. you take a sip from your surfside, this one going down much slower than the last ones, and ask the group, “do we have any more weed?” 

“i don’t think you need any more,” san says through an amused smile, with a small shake of his head. he was done being a drama queen. “you’ll fall off the boy’s shoulders.”

“yunho’s here,” you shrug, “he’ll catch me. did you guys know yunho is actually spiderman?” a fit of giggles slips through your lips, your head falling back in laughter. it throws your balance off, making jisung take a step back, and the whole six of them lunge forward. you grab onto jisung’s curls again, stabilizing yourself, “whoa, sorry, i’m getting too comfortable up here.” 

“you should get down,” yunho says with concern as the group walks forward, making something like a crowd around you and jisung without it being obvious it’s to catch you if you fall. “you’re fucked up, teens, you’ll fall.” 

“boo,” you frown, throwing a thumbs down in yunho’s direction. “i like it up here. did you forget you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore?” 

yunho’s jaw tightens, his eyebrows flattening. he chooses not to answer, instead yeosang steps in, saying your actual name in a warning tone. 

“what?” you ask, dumbfounded, “i just wanna watch the show.” 

you bring your attention back to the stage, one hand in jisung’s hair, mindlessly twirling chocolate covered curls around your finger as the other hand brings your surfside back to your lips. you missed the way yeosang, san and yunho shared a look, how the three of them began to realize where tonight was headed, none of them looking forward to it. 

when TV girl’s set ended you were back on the ground, staying close to jisung’s side as you walked toward stage B, excitement flooding you that jungle was next. 

“i can’t wait,” you bounced next to jisung, a wide smile on your face, “do you like jungle?” 

“love jungle,” he nodded, “back on 74? banger.” 

“my favorite is i’ve been in love,” you beam, “i know every word, i think there was a three day period where all i listened to was that song.”

“three days of one song?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows and eyes that looked like the moon hung above you, full and bright, “i would lose my mind.” 

“we listen to music differently, though,” you counter, “i bet you hear a bunch of stuff i don’t. how it’s made, background stuff, lyrics, i just like it when a song sounds good.” 

he smiles, “music’s heard differently by everyone, that’s the cool thing about it. i couldn’t live without it.” 

you groan, “a world without music?” you emphasized your words dramatically, hopefully to humor the boy who knew more about music than you ever would, “that’s called hell.” 

he laughs loudly, hunching forward a bit to catch his mouth with his hand, “i can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” 

“i’m serious!” you laugh too, accidentally stepping over your foot and bumping into his side, “sorry. but i am serious, i couldn’t live in a world where music didn’t exist.” 

you step into the line for the bar without even thinking or discussing that you would, you didn’t know where everyone else had gone. something about the food trucks by the main entrance. 

“have you been friends with them for a long time?” jisung asks, moving in front of you, and your eyes glaze over his figure. his clothes fit him so nicely, his hoodie perfectly oversized, jeans lying over the laces of his sneakers at just the right spot. “you seem like you’ve been friends forever.” 

“ever since i can remember, they’ve been in my life,” you nod with a smile, head tilting to the side. your eyes felt heavy. “they’re my brothers, basically.” 

“i only have one older brother,” his lips form a tight smile, “must be nice to have three.”

“four,” you correct him, stepping forward in line, “i have an actual brother, he’s my twin.”

“and you’re all friends?”

“our parents are close friends, so naturally we are, too,” you nod. wanting to change the subject, with a devilish smile you ask, “should we get shots?”

jisung lets out a huff of amusement through his nose, “can you handle shots?” 

“i fear i might need shots,” you say through a breath, you felt like you were slowing down. if you slowed down any further, the sadness would creep back in. “i’ll get this round.” 

he looks at you inquisitively, like he wanted to ask but didn’t know if he should. instead he waves you off and says, “nah, i’ll get them, if you need one so badly.”

you smile and lightly slap his bicep, “now you’re making me sound like an alcoholic, it’s just been a tough week.” 

he nods as you step forward again, one group in front of you in line. “i can understand that, this is good timing, then. the festival, and me.” 

your head snaps up to look at him like a deer caught in headlights, fumbling over your words, “no– i–”

“don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head, “let’s just have fun.” 

you take a second to close your mouth, and nod with a weak smile. he orders you tequila shots and hard liquor drinks this time– go big or go home, his words. as you sipped through a tiny straw on your way back to stage B, you realized he was right, shots and a drink drink were much needed– go big or go home, indeed. your brain was even foggier as you approached the dark stage, jungle wasn’t playing just yet, but you could see small shadows of people setting up the stage from the back of the crowd. 

“should we go up there?” you ask jisung, referring to the crowd, slurring your words ever so slightly. 

the corner of his lips lifted up into a smile, his eyes glossed over just like your own, he’s keeping up with you. “i think we should definitely go up there.”

fingers linked again, pressing through bodies in the crowd, the rest of your friends weren’t a thought in your brain. a wide smile on your face, all you could think was jisung and jungle. he was the perfect person to rip you out of whatever funk you were in. 

jisung got you both closer than you’d been the entire time you were at the festival, it was condensed but not as packed as the first twenty rows of people– you still had wiggle room. he tugged on your hand to bring you even closer to the stage, but you didn’t feel like being a sardine, you had pulled his back to keep you both in the spot you deemed perfect. he’d pulled his phone out to take a picture of the stage, most likely to send to one of his friends to let them know where you were, but you kept your phone in your purse, selfishly hoping they wouldn’t find you. you just wanted to be, here with jisung, watching the show together. 

as the lights came on, screams erupted from around you, also from you and jisung. the crowd collapsed inward, pushing you into the people in front of you– a meek yelp left your lips as people behind you pushed into you. jisung was quick to grab your wrist and pull you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your front over your shoulders, laying one wrist over another in front of you. 

you tilt your head up, fear still lingering in your eyes from almost getting crushed, “thank you.” 

he gave you a tight lipped smile and you swooned. his hoodie was so soft, so warm, his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. your back pressed to his front, your head laid back on his chest right under his chin, your fuzzy brain wouldn’t let you stop smiling. jungle opened with back on 74 and both you and jisung sang along with the rest of the crowd, swaying side to side, your heads tilted upward to watch the stage. 

you weren’t careful of how much you leaned into him, you couldn’t, that power left you a drink and a shot ago. you completely relied on jisung’s strength to keep you held up as you relinquished the little core strength you had, your fingers on one hand gripping your jacket laid on his forearm, the other holding your drink. his body was sturdy, strong, it felt good pressed against you. your lips stretched to one side, the alcohol was hitting you more than you thought it would– from how often you’d been getting laid, you’d worked up something like a routine with your body, and here jisung was. 

“you comfortable?” he asked in your ear, deep voice sending vibrations through your entire body. 

you answered with a mhm that came deep in your soul, you were more than comfortable– you wanted him. 

your mind travelled as jungle played through their setlist, three songs deep now, you began to wonder if jisung wanted you, too. you tested the waters, pressing your back into him a little harder, but he stayed solid. you rolled your head to the side, let your fingers travel up and down his cotton clad arm, humming along to the song playing. 

his hands finally moved, fingers traveling down to your waist, to your hips, moving with you. a smile grew on your lips as you kept swaying to the music, body still pressed against him– you should be embarrassed with the amount of people around you, they could be watching you, eyes glued to the way your hips were moving on jisung. the thought was fleeting, you didn’t care– jisung, wanted you, too, that’s all that mattered. 

jisung and jungle.

his head came down to reach your ear again, “you know what you’re doing, right?” 

you smiled, an innocent one that he couldn’t see, “you said let’s have fun.” 

he laughed from behind you, a quick chuckle that had your neck bending to look up at him. his smile was intoxicating if you weren’t already, his lips so pink and plump, you wondered what they tasted like. he caught your eyes, seeming like he could read your mind, but he caught your eyes as they dipped down to his mouth and back up at his own. that only meant one thing.

something unreadable crossed his face before he was leaning down, attaching his lips to yours. his speed took you by surprise, as if he mentally said fuck it, but you were even quicker to reciprocate. opening your mouth ever so slightly you deepened the kiss, warmth spreading across your body, momentarily giving you reprieve before the awkward angle and the urge to have more of him consumed you. 

your drink fell to the dirt before your hands came up to cup his cheeks, body completely turning to face him so that your front pressed to his instead. his hands came to your hips again, planted firmly against your jeans, the tips of cold pinkies slipping underneath your hoodie, the chill of his fingers making you shiver. 

it was electric– it was exactly what you needed. your favorite band playing in the background, kissing a boy you’d only met today, this is what yunho was talking about. this was being twenty two, living, experiencing, doing things for the fuck of it… you were starting to hate when he was right. 

“hey,” he said between kisses, making you pull away, catching your breath. a hand came up to wipe at your wet bottom lip as he pressed his curl covered forehead against yours, your breaths still coming out uneven. his eyes were darker, even more glazed over, you wondered how that was even possible. he smiled, that same smile that just did you in moments prior, “i like you.” 

you didn’t miss a beat as you said, “then keep kissing me,” and found his lips again. 

he took a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head back, tongue slipping through your lips. you moaned, not a care in the world for the people around you. you would’ve asked him to take you in a port a potty if you weren’t interrupted a moment after. 

“damn,” you wouldn’t have bat an eye if it didn’t come from a voice you recognized. chan was giggling as he got closer to you, “i don’t know how we even recognized you, if you got any closer you might’ve merged into one.” 

you literally jumped, cheeks flushing as if you were a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. chan wore the widest smirk on his red cheeks and you couldn’t help but scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. a grumble left your lips, “cockblocker.” 

following him were the rest of the boys one by one, slipping through spaces in the crowd to take their places around you as if they’d been searching for you. out of breath, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as you and jisung took a step closer to one another again. you caught his eye, he wore the same look you did– horny, frustrated, disappointed. 

after your shared look you bit your lip out of annoyance, then your eyebrows shot to your hairline as you brought your empty palms out in front of you. you looked up to jisung, “where did my drink go?!”

jisung threw his head back in laughter before he pointed to the ground, your now empty cup crushed and covered in dirt. you pouted, “i dropped it?” 

“you don’t even remember?” he was still giggling, hand covering his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkled. 

“here,” chan said, pushing his cup into your hand– whiskey, neat. you stared at the cup in your hand, face immediately falling, eyebrows furrowing and not because you didn’t like whiskey. you looked back up to chan and his eyes widened, hand lurching forward to grab it from your hands. “my bad, i’m sorry, ohmygod.”

another drink replaced its spot in your hand, a surfside, freshly cracked, still cold. you looked up to yunho in front of you, the one who put it in your hands, and he gave you a warm smile. “better, right?” 

“much, thank you,” a smile replaced your frown as you took a sip, body whipping around to watch jungle again. a heavy hand rested on your shoulder, yunho standing directly behind you. 

he bent down to your ear, much like how jisung did minutes ago, his voice lowered as he said, “pretend we’re not even here.” 

you thanked him with your eyes, body moving before you could process it, skipping to your spot in front of jisung again, where he immediately laid his arms over your shoulders. you hung your head forward, looking around for your group, jeongin and yeosang were holding hands now, san and chan standing too close for that to be nothing, yunho and jihoon silently watching the band. 

you smiled to yourself– despite being annoyed by their interruption, chan damn near pulling you off of jisung, you liked this. you liked chan’s friends being with yours, a blend of people you never would’ve expected hanging out, and enjoying it on top of it all. you wouldn’t mind if you did this more. 

as the familiar tune of i’ve been in love reverberates throughout the crowd, you gasp. “jisung!” you exclaim, your smile massive as you look up at him, “they’re playing it!” 

he beams, eyes full of warmth as he looks down at you, “they knew you were here.” 

you start rapping along, head leaning back onto jisung’s chest. to your surprise, he raps along with you, the two of you going word for word with the band. you looked up to him with shock written all over your face, the two of you getting louder as realization set in, as the song continued. you couldn’t help the stupid smile that you couldn’t wipe off your face, not that you tried– not that you even wanted to try. 

as the song nears its end, you thought over yunho’s words again. pretend we’re not even here.

if they weren’t here, you never would’ve stopped kissing jisung– you already missed his lips on yours. you tilted your head up, doe eyes to doe eyes, jisung was already staring back down at you. you smiled as you glanced down to his lips, a question on your own, one you didn’t have to ask because he wanted it, too. 

warm and soft, already slick with his spit, you could focus on how he felt this time instead of your drunken need overpowering your senses. with newfound clarity, the outcome was just as damning, getting lost in jisung’s lips was just as easy as the first time. keeping a loose hold on your can, you swung your body to face him without breaking the kiss, your other arm wrapping around his shoulder. 

“you’re so hot,” he mumbles into your lips, hands traveling up to your waist, beneath your hoodie. a chill racked through you as a soft noise left your lips, too gone to answer, too lost in the way he made you feel, the temperature of his fingertips against your skin. 

“leave with us, stay over tonight,” a statement that was also a question, jisung’s voice was heavy, a depth to it told you he needed you just as bad. 

“maybe,” you kissed him again, your voice airy, not here nor there. your surroundings had left you— it was only you and jisung in that moment, that’s all you cared about. you couldn’t think about after, you couldn’t think about mere minutes from now, all you could think was how you never wanted his lips to leave yours. 

you missed how yunho watched from his peripherals, how his eyebrows flattened, how his lips formed to a thin line. he couldn’t focus on the band in front of him, he knew you loved them, which made him love them, too, yet you weren’t even paying attention. yunho was dumbfounded— with you, with himself, with his own emotions— he didn’t know what to do. 

after decades of knowing you, his bright eyed, favorite girl, he didn’t think there was this much of you left to figure out. he’s watched you grow up, he himself grew up alongside you, he’s seen you through every phase, every change, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this one. 

random hookups throughout high school, college, none of that actually mattered— you already consumed his mind day and night, but after you started dating, he picked himself apart piece by piece, hoping to realize what you didn’t see in him. 

yunho looked to his left, yeosang was kissing jeongin now. that didn’t take him by surprise. 

yunho looked to his right, san was looking at chan with a hunger yunho had never seen in his eyes before. that should've been more surprising than it was. 

in front of the two boys were you and jisung, that made yunho want to crawl out of his skin. he saw you kissing him moments prior, he even told you to do so in other words, for a moment yunho thought maybe he was a masochist. a glutton for pain, for torture, whatever this feeling was as he stared at you, eyes closed, fingers tangled in that boy’s hair. 

yunho had to let go. he’d already fucked up, he’d already let too many of his feelings slip through the reins of his self restraint, he’s already endured you screaming in his face once, he’d die before he hurt you enough to do it again. he told himself this is just another phase, another change, you’ll come out of it smarter, more experienced, different. he can’t help but be a little scared that you’ll actually succeed in finding a boyfriend. 

as your face detaches from jisung’s to take a breather, yunho can see your glazed over eyes, your expression that read all of nothing, you’d been drinking for hours now without a morsel of food in your stomach. he’s seen you drunk, hammered, hurled over a toilet for hours on end— but you looked happy, which you haven’t in days, yunho didn’t want to interrupt but he didn’t want you throwing up in the dirt, either. 

yunho was at a crossroads. as jungle wrapped up their set and you unwrapped yourself from jisung’s embrace, your face changed, the knit of your eyebrow told him something wasn’t right. he was quick on his feet, two long strides had him at your side, asking you what’s wrong. 

“i dunno,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing, your free hand coming up to your face, cold palm pressed against your hot cheek. even through your mask of inebriation, he knew that look, he could read it all over you— this wasn’t about the boy, this was about mingyu. 

“let’s go home,” yunho bent down, level with your face to look into your eyes, he could see the tears before they formed. it put a knot in his stomach. 

“okay,” your voice was strained, raw. yunho felt like he’d been punched in the gut. he should've told you not to smoke, especially after drinking so much, he shouldn’t have brought you that last drink— he should’ve warned you that drinking wouldn’t fix anything. 

he looked up to jisung whose eyes were wide, eyebrows raised in confusion and concern. his voice was raised in pitch as he asked, “is she okay?”

yunho nodded quickly, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed to say she’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. your face hit his chest and he wished he could physically stop his heartbeat from quickening. years of loving you, spending time with you, being close to you, touching you— he always reacted the same. 

chan bounced over, worry in his voice, “hey, hey, hey,” he placed his hand on your back and it took every ounce of strength yunho had to not pull you away, but since chan is your friend, he’d allow it. chan leaned closer, “you okay?” 

you picked your head up to look at him, yunho couldn’t see your face but the look on chan’s told him enough, his eyebrows furrowed even further with worry. “did jisung—”

“no,” you sniffed, “it’s not jisung, just needa go home,” you slurred, shaking your head, “drank too much.” 

chan, who had heard the whole story from san earlier while waiting in line for the bar, looked up to yunho in understanding. for only knowing you a short time, he seemed to know a lot about you. yunho didn’t have the time to dissect the thought. 

yunho lifted his head up, yeosang and san already looking at him, at you, concern living in the crinkle between their eyebrows. yeosang stepped forward and yunho shook his head, knowing you’d be mortified in the morning if this became a bigger deal than it needed to be. 

“you ready to go home?” yunho tipped his chin upward in the direction of his two friends, keeping you tucked under his elbow in front of him. 

san and yeosang nodded silently, he watched as yeosang pecked jeongin goodbye, as san began walking away without another word to chan. for you, they’d do anything, they’d drop anything— it didn’t matter. 

“will you guys be okay getting home?” chan asked yunho, shoulders back, chin tilted up. 

“yeah, you?” yunho answered, already turning on his heel, barely giving chan time to respond. he needed you out of here, out of the crowd, he needed to get you air.

“tell her to call me when she feels better,” chan calls behind you, and san responds, but yunho barely hears him. 

the group of them shuffled through the crowd— why were they so deep in, anyways?— tucked under his left armpit, yunho was basically dragging you through the dirt. you were slumped into his side, mumbling something, feet barely carrying you. he debated putting you on his back. 

“what are you saying, tiny?” yeosang asked, just a step behind you, closer to your ear than yunho was. 

“my jacket,” you said a little louder, strain on your voice, “jisung has it.” a sob leaves your lips and yunho almost smiles, the fact that your jacket was the icing on the cake is so you. even completely done up you stayed unapologetically yourself. 

“should we call ace?” san asked from yunho’s other side, his eyebrows still knitted together. 

“what the hell is ace gonna do?” yunho replied, his tone curt, “let him have his weekend with reia, he doesn’t need to know. tiny will be fine.”

as you got to the outskirts of the crowd, yunho was bending down in front of you, his arms reaching behind him to hoist you onto his back. you were a deadweight, head slumped over his shoulder, arms limp around his neck. he carried you through the venue towards the main entrance without a word. 

you groaned when you finally reached the parking lot, followed by, “yun, i don’t feel good.” 

“ah, fuck,” he muttered under his breath, coming to a stop. “can you wait until we get home?” 

“put me down now,” you said hurriedly, fear apparent in your tone, and yunho bent down right away, standing back up when your sneakers hit the pavement. you crouched down, yeosang had caught it before yunho did— he stood behind you, your hair wrapped into a ponytail in yeosang’s fist as you emptied the contents of your stomach where yunho had just been standing. 

the four of you didn’t say another word until you were five minutes away from your house, the drive spent in silence— you’d spent it with your head halfway out the window, your sunglasses halfway down your nose, eyes shut. if it weren’t for the tears that streamed down your face every now and then, yunho would’ve assumed you were already knocked out.

“should i call him?” you asked the car, everyone already knew who, eyes still closed as you sat back in the cushioned seat. “i miss him, jisung was nothing like him. i wish he was there.”  

yunho was lucky you couldn’t see him— he physically winced at your drunken words. san eyed him from the passenger seat, but he paid his friend no mind. 

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, teens,” yeosang said calmly from the backseat, sitting close to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. yunho watched as you laid your head on him, you didn’t answer him— maybe you fell asleep. he hoped you did. 

san carried you inside your house bridal style and laid you on your unmade bed, but yeosang was the one who had dressed you for bed. it became his responsibility the few times he’s had to do it— an unspoken rule amongst you. 

after a hot shower, yunho decided to check on you once more before heading to the guest room for bed. you were sitting over the side of your bed, eyes closed, chugging water from the bottle he’d placed on your nightstand. he only peeked his head in, but you caught him. 

“yunho?” you asked weakly, your voice small. 

he cursed under his breath, but he inched forward, coming into view. he looked around, clothes were strewn about your floor, clothes hanging out of the hamper— he didn’t realize until then how upset you really were. “you okay, teens?” 

you mumbled a mhm then laid back on your sheets, head falling onto your pillows. you turned your head to look at him, eyes crescents, “why can’t i find anyone that’s good for me?”

yunho sighed and walked forward, sitting at the edge of your bed. “you will.” 

“kissing jisung didn’t make me feel any better about mingyu,” you paused, yunho didn’t know if you’d continue. your lip trembled, “he was good for me.” 

yunho pulled his lips into a line— as much as he hated hearing it, if that's how you felt, he wouldn’t argue with you anymore. “why don’t you try calling him tomorrow?”

you whined, then closed your eyes, pulling your duvet over your body, up to your neck. “i’m tired of being mad at you.” 

yunho smiles at that— “i’m sorry i made you mad at me.” 

“will you stay with me tonight?” 

yunho’s eyes shoot open, his lips parting, his mind running a mile a minute. “what?”

“please,” you opened your eyes a little wider, they were still glassy— he was scared you might cry again if he said no, not that he wanted to say no. 

he couldn’t ask why, he couldn’t ask any questions at all. as you pulled up the corner of your duvet, in his tee shirt, all he could muster was “okay.” 

that was a lot, if ur still here i love u. tell me how u feel so i don't lose my mind pls

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags: @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00 @minvxq @moonlightgrleric

[yeonmuse]

— “You haven’t changed”

( pairing) - nerd!Heeseung x f!r 3kwc + smut. not proofread!! 3rd pov Contains!! Mentions of sexual themes/mean heeseung [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

Authors notes, for some reason its not letting me link this post to the actual request, so hopefully whoever requested this sees it

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @jiamini @sol3chu @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle

You and Your boyfriend both shared a mutual agreement that your relationship was strictly for show, or at least that was the terms you had given him. After the two of you had been caught cozying up to one another, at one of Jake's parties. Since then people had started putting the two of you with one another and you had simply accepted it. Jay was tired of the swarm of girls that’d surrounded him when he arrived on campus and you didn’t care for any of the guys there because all of them acted the same. Obviously Jay knew what he had been getting himself into with making you his girlfriend though, after all you were one of the most sought out girls in the university's freshman class.

Not to mention you were the dean's daughter, which meant everyone would either suck up to you or go through him thinking it’d get them into your mothers good graces. Though little did they know you yourself were slipping through the cracks of your mothers sincerity. Your grades were slipping bringing you from rank 1 to rank 2 of top scoring students on campus. Number one being Yang Jungwon and Number two being Lee Heeseung, a man you had known all too well since middle school. He was a friend of your eldest brother, the two of them having been friends so long tbz you couldn’t remember a time where Heeseung wasn’t at your house, sat on the couch playing video games with your brother. All you knew wanted him was that the boy owned more keyboards than he knew people, and the only reason you had known that was because you once heard him and your brother talking about it in discord.

That's all there ever did though, and you found him and your brother to be agonizingly boring. All they had ever done was play games, snack on junk food and waste away in their parents' attic playing d&d or reading old comics. Of course your mother loved Heeseung, damn near treated him like her son right along with you and your brother, and yet it didn’t make you any more interested in him than you had once been as kids.

Finally making it back to your apartment after having gotten chewed out by your mom and sat through an agonizing number of classes you were relieved to finally have some peace. Though your temporary serenity was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door forcing you up from the couch and having you stride over to the door. The scowl on your face had immediately changed to a smile as you found your brother on the other side.

“Anton!?” His arms wrap around you catching you in a tight embrace as you leapt into his arms, not having seen him in almost a year since he had chosen to travel instead of going to college.

“You haven’t grown at all.”

“Don’t start, look at you all grown up. What are you doing here?!” Your little brother had in fact grown up, ditching his glasses, old plaid button ups and bowl cut he’d always rocked when the two of you were younger. He looked like a man now, and he had grown tall enough to surpass you in height, meaning you no longer had anything to tease him about.

“I talked to mom and she said you lived here, I was hoping..to crash her for a few days?”

“Anton seriously…why can’t you just go to mom and dads?” You groan knowing that if he stayed here your peace would fly out the window.

“You know how that goes everytime, I’m tired of arguing with them over my life plans.”

“Are they really still on your ass about not going to college?”

“Mom and dad, what do you think?” You sigh as he places you back onto your feet.

“Please?” Rolling your eyes at his sad attempt to sway you , you slide over letting him inside.

“Penthouse suite, you always were a spoiled princess.”

“For your information, I’m paying myself..well our parents are helping but I wouldn’t have felt alright with them paying it all.”

“Yeah you’re crazy I'd have let them pay it all.” He says flopping down onto the couch.

“So how long do you plan on staying exactly?”

“Four days tops, then I’ll be on the move again.”

“Are you still in that band?”

“Yup, we’re on break at the moment.”

“Mm you always did love music, though you were too busy hanging out with Heeseung and Sohee.”

“Oh right Heeseung, you two go to the same university right?”

“How do you know?” You snorted, making your brother roll his eyes in response.

“‘Mom how else?”

“I don’t know ive never seen him on campus, I only know he goes there because mom is always talking about him and you, and he passed me in the ranks for the top scholars.”

“You? A top scholar?” At your brother's reaction you grabbed the nearest thing to you, chucking it at his head.

“Okay okay, no more water bottles, I was only joking.”

Your phone rings interrupting your chat with your brother, slipping your hand into your pocket you pull out your phone and step away from the living room to answer the call.

“Yes Jay.”

“Well hell to you too sweetheart.”

“Jay I don’t have time for this, is this about something important or should I just hang up.”

“Won’t take up too much of your time sweetheart don’t worry, so the party at Jakes was canceled, his parents came home early from their trip, so we were all wondering, maybe we could move it to your place? It's been a while since you’ve thrown one.”

“Jay my brother is here. I can't just throw a party when he just got here.”

“You’re having a party?” Antons ears perk up at the mention of a party and he pushes himself up off the couch before making his way over to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a party” your eyes widen at your brother's sudden approval and you hear Jay chuckle on the other line.

“So is that a yes?”

__________

That was exactly how you ended up here, a house full of random strangers from camps you’d known absolutely nothing about because they had been friends of Jays rather than your own. You sat comfortably in Jay's lap, minding your business while he and his friends talked. Only getting up when you felt like you needed to throw back another drink to cure your boredom. Now you love a good party, but after the day you had you’d simply expected to just lie in bed and rest. As you had been making your way out of the kitchen you heard the faint sound of the doorbell making you audibly sigh as you sat your cup down and sauntered over to the door.

Pulling it open you were surprised to see none other than Lee Heeseung. By the looks of it he hasn't changed one bit, other than the fact that he had grown into his looks he still had dressed exactly the same as he did in high school.

“Heeseung?” You couldn’t hold back the shocked laugh that spilled from your lips.

Lee Heeseung? At a party?

“Yo Heeseung.” Heeseungs gaze shifted from you to your brother who had now been approaching the door with a goofy smile on his face.

“You actually came.” Your gaze shifts between Heeseung and your brother and you couldn’t help but laugh as you step aside and go back to your drink while the two talk

Maybe they hadn’t changed and both of them were just as nerdy and goofy as they had been when there were kids.

The rest of the night had gone by agonizingly slow for you, at some point the party began to die down and everyone had left, the only one staying behind being Heeseung so that he and your brother could catch up.

The two of them sat in the living room while you yourself sat on the kitchen counter stuffing your face with popcorn to cure your drunken dazed hunger.

“You haven’t changed one bit.” You let it slip past your lips in a drunken ramble, having thought it was something you said in your head rather than aloud.

“Did you say something yn?” Your brother asks, forcing Heeseung to turn his head and look at you as well

“Heeseung, he changed at all.” You respond still stuffing your mouth with popcorn

“You grew up a little, but Heeseung still looks the same, remember keely would call him the little nerdboy, and you geek charming.” You say with a small chuckle reliving the memory.

“Yeah, how much did you drink tonight exactly?” You roll her eyes in response.

“Enough to make me feel nice, not enough to make me drunk dad.” You respond sarcastically, making your brighter roll his eyes.

“Did you bring the game?” You could hear Anton ask, his and Heeseungs voices growing fainter and fainter as you made your way up the staircase and to your bedroom.

You had a peaceful shower, those heaven spent thirty minutes having sobered you up just enough. You had been getting ready to lay in bed when a knock at the door interrupted you mid climb. Letting out a frustrated groan you shuffled over to the door, feeling slightly annoyed that once again your peace had been interrupted. Yet you were surprised to see Heeseung on the other side.

“Heeseung?” For a moment he just stood there, his eyes scanning you before his arms snaked around your waist and he pushed you back into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Heeseung what”

“You’re so annoying, even after a year you’re still this annoying?”

“What-“

“You haven’t changed one bit, Jesus, you just don’t know when to stop talking.” He backs you against the door pressing your back directly into the knob making your face twist in discomfort.

“Heeseung, I was only joking.”

“Don’t care, you’ve been this way for as long as I can remember, you’d always have something to say about me, your brother too but I’m not so much interested in anything you’ve said about him.”

“You need to be humbled.” Before you had even had any time to register what was going on he shoves his hand into your shirt. His fingers tracing over your skin making goosebumps rise on your skin. His fingers squeeze your hips in a manner that forces you to stay pressed against him. His fingers slowly trailing down to your exposed thighs just below your shirt making you suck in a breath.

The side of his lips curled into a smirk as he heard a desperate whine that spilled past your plump lips, so quiet he’d damn near miss it if the room wasn’t so silent. The moment you opened your mouth to speak the sound of a slap rang throughout the room followed by a whine from you. Him having slapped your thigh to keep you quiet, focusing amusement in the way you used the back of your hand to try and suppress the noises that spilled past your lips.

“You’ve talked enough tonight.” His fingers immediately met your clit, pushing past your folds and slipping them right inside you with ease.

“Only sound I want to hear from you is your desperate little moans.” His thumb pressed against your clit as he started slowly, thrusting his fingers deep into you like he has done with you thousands of times.

“But A-Anton.” You force yourself to breathe out between ragged breaths, the way Heeseung continuously abuses your clit without letting up, making you squirm against the door.

“Went out to get snacks, told him I'd stay behind and look after you since you drank so much.” He responds by watching the way your face contorts between a look of pleasure and one of confliction.

Without hesitation he slipped in two more fingers, taking the time to stretch your walls and feel you out before he began to thrust them in and out slowly. The way you whine for him to move them faster only causes him to slow them down. His fingers thrust further into your cunt with every loud cry that left your mouth. He could tell you were getting annoyed with his sudden change in pace, he didn’t care though he thought it was what you deserved

“Heeseung” A chuckle spilled from his lips at how desperate you sounded.

“Hm? What is it baby hm? Too fast for you, should I slow it down some more?” He teases, slowing down the curling and thrusting of his fingers to an agonizingly slow pace.

“Look at you whining like a desperate little doll for some little nerdboy when you’ve got a boyfriend.” His eyes shoot to the mirror near your bedside and he forces you to stare straight ahead into it, giving you a perfect view of just how pathetic you looked, whining and whimpering while his fingers that were buried deep inside of you.

Finally forcing his fingers from your now dripping cunt he lifts you up throwing you onto your bed you had been coming into his mere moments ago. Face down ass up, with your hands pressed into your back, he has you completely vulnerable.

“Look at you, aren’t even trying not to give in, it's pathetic honestly. Is Jay not giving you what you need?” His hands traced your curves until his finger hooked within your panties, pulling them to the side.

“Fuck you’re already a mess” it took him less than a minute to shove his pants and boxers to the floor, the view of you making him all the more eager to take you right then and there. Something he had thought about time and time again since high school.

Your eyes rolled back immediately as Heeseung wasted absolutely no time and pushed himself inside of you until he fully bottomed out. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach. He watched the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“Taking me so well baby.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he immediately spread your legs wider and pulled your ass up against him. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt from him stretching you out, if any had gone away. It was quite easy for him to get into the rythym of fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars. He rolled his eyes and there was a hint of annoyance in his tone as he watched you force your face into the mattress trying to keep quiet.

Grabbing a fist full of your hair he forces your head back and presses you flat against his chest.

“Don’t try to be quiet now.” Your nails dug so deep into his thighs that you nearly drew blood. He watched the view from the mirror, watching the way strings of saliva dripped down your chin from the way your mouth hung open spilling pornographic moans.

“Look at you getting fucked by a nerd like me.” He immediately leans down to place kisses on your neck, your nipple between his fingers while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the feeling of his fingers against your breasts to every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push. Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“Such a pretty little thing gonna cum all over my cock.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for all of them to see, to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. As you were finally able to pry your eyes open you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach. The sight of his hands wrapped around your waist holding you close to him as you came completely undone. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he watched you try and conceal your dazed condition.

“Yn? Did Heeseung leave?” Heesung couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard the sound of your brother calling him from the hall.

“Go ahead sweetheart, answer him.” He found it absolutely amusing, the very person you’d always tease and talk about as a kid had been fucking to into your matress making you a complete mess.

“U-um He- had to step o-out for a moment.”

“Did he say where he was going?” You mentally cursed and bit down on your lip to choke back a moan when Heeseungs fingers met your clit.

“A-An errand or something.”

“Errand? O..kay.”

When you finally heard him move away from the door and you weren’t even able to let out a sigh of relief. Your legs shook violently as Heeseung thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock and he wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way you clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill into you.

Slipping his head into the crook of your neck he sucks harshly, leaving evidence that you were now tainted by him.

“Mmm now you have to go down there and keep him distracted so I can make it look like I left.”

“What? You expect me to go down there after this?”

“You want your brother to know you fucked one of his friends?”

“Fuck i like you better when you just sat in the room and played video games all day.”

[sunasbabie]

little something for the birthday boy, also i haven't written in over 3 years LOL

it’s the 24th of january and it’s been 5 days since your boyfriend left for an away game, 5 days too long. you were never one to complain whenever rintaro went on away games, you understood that it was part of his job and you knew that even then when the two of you were both teenagers just figuring out your feelings for each other, but now that you’re together and used to seeing each other every day, it’s harder being away from him. especially when you want to spend his birthday with him and not just over the phone.

“how was the game today” you asked as you sat on the couch where you and your boyfriend would usually sit and catch up on shows you missed or movies you’ve been wanting to watch.

“it was a tight game babe, just like you” he chuckled “but we won”.

after knowing him for so long you’ve gotten used to how your boyfriend responds to things, you couldn't help but roll your eyes in response. he’s always been like this, always trying to make stupid jokes, you’d never admit it but it makes you smile everytime, even if they’re stupid.

“you’re so stupid” you stood up and walked towards the window, “i’m glad you guys won”

“yeah, i’m really tired though, can’t want to get home and lay in bed with you”

“i miss you rin” you couldn’t help but say the truth, you’ve never been one to not tell rin you’ve missed him or that you love him. that’s just how you’ve always been with him and that’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you.

rin smiled to himself upon hearing you say that, of course he knew that but hearing you say that you’ve missed him makes him happy, “i miss you too baby, don’t worry i’ll be home on the 26th”

you frown upon hearing his response, you wanted to spend his birthday with him but apparently this year you couldn’t cause he was out of town.

“aww so you won’t be here for your birthday?” you pouted as if he could see your face right now

“no i won’t, but i’m free the entire day when i get back, we can do something then”

“okay, no complaining about being tired okay cause i’ve got something planned” you grip your phone, excited at the thought of seeing rin in two days and spending the whole day with him after not seeing him for almost a week.

rintaro smiles at the sound of excitement in your voice “don’t worry, i won’t”

“great, i’ll see you in 2 days rin. i love you.”

“i love you, i can’t wait to see you”

and with that you hung up the phone and started to plan rin’s birthday.

—

it was around 12:30am when you heard the locks of your apartment door turning, thinking that someone was trying to break into your apartment. you grabbed the nearest thing that you could swing at the person to hurt them, which was strangely a frying pan.

you walked closer to the door and when the door swung open you saw your boyfriend carrying all his bags walk through the door. you relax and lower the pan and put it on the couch.

you ran up to rintaro, hugging him by the waist, “what the hell rintaro you scared me, you said you’d be home on the 26th? what are you doing here” you looked up at him,seeing his face for the first time in a while and missing him.

he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back, “i got on the last train going home, i missed you and couldn’t wait” he explained as he hugged you tighter.

you hold on to him for a little longer before moving your hands to his shoulders as you stand on your toes, leaning in to kiss him. you felt him kiss you back, you pulled away but stayed close his face before whispering “happy birthday rin, i love you” before leaning in and giving him another kiss.

"i love you" rintaro couldn’t think of getting anything better for his birthday, after all he’s got all he’s ever wanted. you.

[julieloves074]

‘A little bit… or a lot’ (Min Ho x Reader)

Summary: K.I.S.S resident Marco will not leave Y/n alone so the night at the club Min Ho comes to her rescue and they set themselves up in fake relationship to make sure the guy gets a hint, but will their friendship survive the blurred lines?

Warnings: kissing, divorce

Word count: 8.7K

(Noy my GIF :))

“Not again,” I say out loud subconsciously, Kitty and I are once again in the boys flat just studying with Q, and I lay my phone face down frustrated.

Q and Kitty turn towards me immediately, annoyance showing in their eyes, but not at me “What did he say this time?” Q asks.

I just pass him my phone; Kitty gets up from lying on her stomach and looks over his shoulder, her face twists and turns as she reads the message.

“I mean it could kind of be kinda… romantic- no?”

“What can be seen as romantic?” Min Ho says walking in through the dorm door and taking off his shoes, looking between the three of us.

I let out a loud sigh and twist to lie on my back laying a pillow over my face, “It’s Marco he keeps message me,” I hug the pillow to my chest.

Q laughs, “He’s pestering her and very clearly not getting a hint,” he says pointing the phone in Min Ho’s direction, he pulls a disgusted face as he reads the message.

“They say you are what you attract,” Min Ho says with a level of sass and walks into his room closing the door behind him.

“No one has ever said that” Kitty exclaimed in a whisper and the three of us burst into a fit of laughter.

Q passed the phone back to me and I immediately threw it to the other side of the sofa, “That guy seriously needs to chill,” Q says turning back to the textbook and question sheet.

“Honestly I’m so tired of it, I’m scared he’s gonna try something in person,” I said, both my friends shoot my empathetic looks, trying to be supportive, but it doesn’t look like Marco is going to leave me alone any time soon.

Kitty started to gather up all her resources, “Okay time to stop this,” she says getting up and putting the stuff in her bag. I try to argue with her that we’ve only done half the homework questions, but she ignores me and keeps packing.

“Look I need time to get ready for this date with Praveena, I really think things could work out between us, so I want to put the effort in,” she explains, Q and I look at each other and identical smiles spread across our faces, “Plus I’m still yet to match make you and I think it’s time you find someone for you, and it might help Marco move on,” I give her the can we not talk about this right now look but then Q agrees.

He stands up to leans against the sofa arm and looks down at me, “We’re gonna have so much fun, come on smileee,” he says reaching out an arm and pulling me up.

We agree to finish the work tomorrow and to meet in two hours to head out to the club. A new DJ was playing and most everyone in the friendship group wanted to go.

When we arrive the atmosphere is perfect, the music is energetic but cool, the lights and decorations are the exact level of out there and complimentary, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Kitty is quickly stolen away by Praveena and taken to the dance floor.

Dae, Q and I make our way to get mocktails before also heading to the dance floor, I watch Q looking around as if he were shopping for guys, which to be fair was exactly his plan for the night- a little distraction from the stress of tomorrow’s race and I was not going to stop him. Dae on the other hand looked stiff and uncomfortable but trying to move around doing something that kind of resembled dance moves.

“Oh my god,” Q says suddenly, and I follow his eyeline only to be met with the one and only, enemy on and off the track: Jin. Q looks… frankly offended at the sight and excuses himself.

When I turn back around to Dae he’s disappeared too, I look around but I can’t see him so go back to the bar to get another mocktail, then I finally find him talking to a group of girls at the back of the club and then I find Q making out with Jin so I went back for another drink and sat at the bar just people watching, all my friends were spread around.

That’s when I heard his voice. “Y/n!” Marco said sitting down next to me, I closed my eyes for a second. Great – now him. I couldn’t have my sad song music video moment, and I had to talk to him.

“Marco,” I say and it accidentally comes out a little too high pitched.

“What is such a pretty girl doing sat at the bar by herself?” he asks shuffling his seat closer and ordering a drink, being a good friend, I wanted to tell him, by not cockblocking any of my friends but I just don’t answer.

I finish the last of my drink and turn around to put it on the counter, in turn he places his hand on the counter almost touching my arm and leans closer to me, “Did you wanna get out of here? We could go grab some food or something,” he asked and I cringed internally.

Opening my mouth to answer he interrupts me, “Come on Y/n, we can go to that barbeque palace you love,”.

I grab my bag and stand as I say, “Marco I don’t-”

“There you are babe,” someone says from behind me, I feel an arm being strung against my shoulder, I turn to see Min Ho just as he presses a kiss to my forehead. He sees the confusion, and maybe a little fear in my eyes and nods subtly to Marco.

“Yep, just been waiting for you,” I reach my arm around his middle, he pulls me closer to him.

“Bye Marco,” Min Ho says simply and turns us away from the brunette walking in the direction of the exit.

What the hell just happened.

“What the hell just happened?” I said out loud this time as the outside breeze soothed me.

Min Ho just sighed taking his arm away, “I just saved your ass, you’re welcome by the way,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I say still in the state of shock.

“He really must not talk to many girls,” he continues, “you looked, repulsed, to say the least,” then one of his brows raised, “I can’t tell who I feel worse for, you, or that poor, helpless guy,”.

I shove my shoulder into his slightly, he swayed to one side by a step, a smile playing on his lips, I shook my head in response.

“What were you doing at the club anyway? I thought you said,” and then I turned on my best Mino Ho accent impression, “The sweat and heat of those places is terrible for my skin,”. The cool January breeze was rustling against my skin, and it was a pleasant contrast to the club which was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“I wanted to hear the DJ live, I’m considering hiring her for my next party,” he says placing his hands into his pockets, I wrapped mine around my jumper.

“So how long has this guy- what’s his name Mark- been bothering you?” Min Ho asked as we walk out towards the dorm buildings.

“Marco,” I say- he knew his name just chose to be petty, then I ran my hand through my hair but didn’t look at him when I answer, “Honestly pretty much since beginning of last semester but the messaging started getting more frequent over the break,”.

“Why haven’t you told anyone about it earlier?” he asked as if I was being an inconvenience to him, I explain to him that it’s never been anything big, he wasn’t being rude or demanding he just didn’t seem to understand that I wasn’t interested and the more I was pushing the more he was latching on.

“No every man can be as good as me, clearly,”

“Clearly,” I join in on his banter, “but seriously, thank you for saving me, I know how much how that must have killed you inside, to have to align yourself with me in such a way,” I said exaggerating, of course he didn’t actually feel this way, we are friends, but it was an inside joke in the friend group that Min Ho was just better than everyone.

Min Ho stopped in his track taking in a deep breath, “Fine, I’ll be your pretend boyfriend,”.

“What?- Min Ho I’m not asking you to-” the words fell out my mouth quickly.

He brushed me off immediately, “Until Marco leaves you alone. You should be thankful that I’m such a good person,” he starts walking again. I take a few quick paced steps to catch up to him.

“Min Ho you really don’t have to, I think he’s got it,” I argued but I  agree with the words coming out of my mouth, if anything a one off like this was likely to propel Marco more, as if this were some kind of challenge for all I knew.

“You’re so ungrateful,”

“Ok fine,” I say defeated, “Thank you,” this time with more emotion.

“It was time to do some charity work anyway,” he said messing up my hair, my face scrunched up in reaction. The rest of the way home in his car was spent arguing about what the best snack for film night was, then what the best film is and soon enough we were back on K.I.S.S grounds.

Min Ho walked me to the door of the girl’s dorm, now that we were alone we discussed what this arrangement meant, and what we were going to tell our friends. The answer was nothing, we were gonna leave them in the dark, one of them was likely to blabber and this needed to seem real. We would act as a couple in front of others but mostly when Marco was around. Not going over the top but just enough to make him believe. When we got to the door we looked at each other.

“What do we tell them when they ask how this happened?”

“We say that you finally fell for my handsome look and irresistible charm,” he says running a hand through his hair, “I mean it was bound to happen, everyone does,”

“Okay Min Ho, whatever,” and then we quickly came up with our cover story.

“Night L/n”

“Goodnight Min Ho,”

Then he was walking in the direction of the boy’s dorm and I look at my phone that was buzzing mercilessly the last few minutes, a bunch of texts were shining brightly back at me.

Kitty: Where are you?

Kitty: Helloooo

Kitty: We want to leave soon

Q: Girl we’re worried answer the phone

Q: missed call (2)

Kitty: missed call (3)

Yuri: Y/n meet us by the front door

Kitty: Swear I’m going to expose all ur secrets if you don’t answer

Shoot.

I was so wrapped up in the Marco situation and then Min Ho that I didn’t even think to text any of them. Not wanting to call any of them right now I text Kitty a quick explanation, that I wasn’t feeling well and Min Ho took us home.

My reply was met with several other messages, but I just got inside our room, got changed and jumped into bed. Twenty minutes later the girls arrived in the dorm but I was  pretending I was asleep, which I almost was, so a little white lie. They would’ve wanted to know what happened and I wasn’t quite ready to fake having a relationship in front of my friends.

<3 <3 <3

Over the next few days all was pretty normal, I didn’t see much of Min Ho outside of lessons, he was busy with avoiding his father and I was busy helping Kitty figure out who this Simon guy we are searching for is. Though on Thursday morning there was some flowers delivered to our door whilst we were having breakfast, I managed to get to the card before the girls thankfully and since then they wouldn’t stop prying.

That was until tonight, our weekly movie nights, I was feelings blessed with the fact that it was finally Friday, but I also didn’t know how to behave.

“I’m dreading whatever we’re gonna watch tonight,” Yuri says as we walk through the boy’s dorm building.

Kitty is flinging her popcorn bag, “I know I hate it when the boys pick, it’s always some kind of action film,” she says.

“They’re not always that bad,” Julianna says bringing Yuri’s hand, which she was holding, up to her lips to give it a kiss.

Even though I didn’t mind the action films or the thrillers it was when they put on horror films that I wanted to run and hide- I don’t judge what people like but it’s lowkey not for me.

“Oh guys remind me to ask Jin for that smoothie recipe before we leave tonight,” Yuri says as we arrive at the door. Kitty reaches for the handle and lets herself right in, we all take our shoes off and say hello to everyone. Giving the boys the benefit of the doubt they did prepare hot drinks and brought some blankets into the living area.

“Are you girls ready to dive into Infested?” Min Ho says coming out his and Dae’s room, the latter following behind him with a closed lipped smile.

“Nooo,” I drag out and look at Q begging him for some support, he just gives me one of those pitying smiles. That night on the way back from the club I told Min Ho that I refused to go watch the film in cinemas or at all.

Dae pats my shoulder as he walks past, “Sorry Y/n it was Min Ho’s turn to pick this time,” he said taking the drinks from the counter and passing them out to those who have already sat down.

Min Ho took a place on the edge of the sofa, I helped Q grab the bowls with snacks and lay them on the table as the others chatted, Jin was using the remote to turn on the film. I look towards Kitty to go join her and sit in front of the sofa when Min Ho catches my eye.

He nods his head ever so subtly, urging me to come sit next to him, I abide with some reluctance.

“L/n” he says lifting the blanket, I sit down with my legs curled up to my body, “I really do think you’re going to hate this movie,” his smile is sadistic, I go to elbow him and he flinches away.

“That’s my opinion,” I say sweetly.

After asking if everyone was ready Jin turned the movie on, and as expected it was creepy and eerie and my mouth was curled up in discomfort within the first 15 minutes. When everyone is deeply focused on the film I turn my head to Min Ho slightly.

“Also- flowers. Really?” I whispered shaking my head.

“Do you want this to be believable or not?” he said back still watching the screen, does he actually send flowers to the girls he was dating, just because?

“Who knew you were such a gentleman,” I teased and I just watched him roll his eyes before turning back to the screen, my distraction did not want to distract me from whatever the hell was happening on the screen.

About half an hour passed before jumpscare scared me so bad that I turned my head to the side covering my eyes and almost hit Min Ho who was sat very close to me. A low chuckle escaped him, then he was laying his arm around me, I felt myself stiffening, it was unexpected, but it only took a second for my body to relax.

After Kitty returned from the toilet later on during the movie she looked at me, her eyes widening as if I’d grown another head, her eyes scanned from me to Min Ho, back to me then to him in a questioning look. After I failed to satisfy her need for answer she sat back down and pulled her phone out, then I felt another two pairs of eyes on me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. How long did we have of this film yet?

At some point Min Ho started to brush his fingers back and forth across the skin on arm, it was calming, and if it was anyone else, in any other circumstance I’d find it endearing, romantic.

When the movie was finished, I was half asleep on the sofa, my head on Min Ho’s chest, no one said anything about our position as they started getting up and cleaning, but they did look back once or twice to check if they were seeing things right.

I got up to help washing up, putting my jumper back on after unfurling from the warm blanket.

“So don’t worry guys we’ll be back with a super cheesy romance next week!” Kitty says clapping her hands together and then hugging Q goodbye. I laid the tea towel on counter ready to go get my shoes back on too.

One step into my journey I was stopped, everyone was still chatting and getting ready to leave, as a pair of arms wrapped around me.

“Bye babe,” came Min Ho’s voice, a little louder than usual, just to make sure everyone heard, and before I knew what was happening, he was turning me around slightly, his eyes going to my lips, then to my eyes, and he clearly did not read the panic in my eyes as he leaned down and kissed me briefly.

“Bye,” I said almost breathlessly, turning back to see all our friends trying to hide their shock.

The walk back to our dorm was very quiet, Yuri complained that no one reminded her to get the smoothie recipe from Jin and Kitty was listing rom coms, but what would usually be loud was rather quiet.

That was until we were all within the space of our dorm.

“What the hell was that?!” Yuri exclaimed  

“Yeah, I think you have some explaining to do,” Kitty says fidgeting excitedly

I hang up my jacket before turning back to them, “Guys it’s not a big deal,”

“Not a big deal!” Kitty started, “Is this where you disappeared to last week after ditching us at the club

“Actually, you guys all ditched me…”

Julianna joined in “So not the point, but seriously you can’t say it’s not a big deal,”

“You and Min Ho have been butting heads all of last semester,” Yuri states.

“That’s irrelevant, what happened that night?” Kitty pestered excitedly.

I lifted myself to sit on the island counter, “He ended up coming to the club so he could listen to the DJ, he thought he might hire her for his next party, I bumped into him on my way outside, the hot air was giving me a headache and we just talked, and then came back and talked some more,” I pull my lips into a shy smile.

“Just talked?” Yuri says consciously.

“Okay talked and then, we kissed, it was an in the moment thing but then yeah, we’re just in this kind of middle ground where I don’t really know what’s going on,”

“Oh my God, so the flowers the other day were from him?” Yuri pieces it all together.

“I mean I have literally been telling you guys for moths,” Kitty says turning to the other two girl putting her hand out, palm upwards, “You both owe me,” she says. I shook my head and jumped down from the counter, Kitty had once said as a one off to me that maybe this line of annoyance with each other was more, but I just brushed her off, and now I feel bad tricking her, but it wouldn’t be for long.

<3 <3 <3

We all got stuck into the semester really fast the next few weeks, lessons were harder, and Kitty was actively doing opposite of what her intention was this semester with Praveena and Yuri, but at least we were making progress on her family situation. Min Ho and I were acting like a happy couple every time we all met up or Marco was around, which was decreasing the more times he saw Min Ho with his arm around me or whispering something judgy about someone else in my ear making me laugh.

This meant we started spending more time together and I was learning so much about him, one night when everyone else went out we cooked dinner, well more accurately he cooked dinner whilst I tried helping but he just sent me away to the other side of the kitchen island and I watched him sheepishly.

“Stop looking at me like that L/n” he said not even looking up from the vegetables he was chopping, and I felt a blush rise on my face.

There was also the first time I spent time in his room, we had been texting and I was complaining about homework for one of the classes and he told me to just come over and he would help me. We were doing homework sat on his bed listening to music, his back pressed against the wall, and I was laying on my stomach facing him as we worked out the answers.

The someone creaked open the door slightly, “I want to come in so stop making out!” Dae warned and Min Ho and I looked at each other as if that was the most disgusting thought. He was not a bad kisser, in fact the last few weeks I’ve found out quite the opposite, but I wasn’t about to boost his ego.

We all also ended up going to the Moon’s cabin for the holiday weekend, unfortunately his dad didn’t come up, Min Ho said that there was something more important with his favourite son. He played it off cooly, but I could see the hurt in his eyes but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.

That first night when everyone else had fallen asleep I snuck out to the kitchen to get some water, and there was Min Ho sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone, he looked tired with the light illuminating his face in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, but he just murmured a reply. I grabbed a blanket and went to sit down next to him, “maybe you should talk to him Min Ho,” I raised the idea gently.

He shook his head and put his head down, “And say what? Oh by the way dad thanks for not coming to the weekend getaway you wanted and always choosing everything and everyone else over me, I don’t think so” he says sharply but I know it’s directed at me. I turn his face to look at me, the persona falls then.

I put my arms around him and pull him close into a hug, running my hand up and down his back and nape as his head is hidden against my neck.

“Be careful L/n or you’ll actually fall in love with me,” he said turning his head ever so slightly to look at me.

“You wish,”

But he didn’t move away, we sat in silence for a while and when I whispered his name I got no reply, only to notice that he’d fallen asleep.

The Kitty came out the corridor to see us, I was running a hand through his hair as I was also starting to doze off, and Kitty whispered, “Is he okay”.

I nodded, “Yeah he will be,”, and then she was heading back to the bedroom with an I told you smile. Over the last few weeks, I did come to care for Min Ho more, as a friend, I got to know more about him and how he’s actually a human with his own shit going on, but he just doesn’t let people in. The rest if our time was spent, playing games and sitting in the hot tub in the evening, there was minimal drama apart from the whole Yuri, Julianna, Kitty and Praveena love letter, and Min Ho’s dad bailing but we made the most of the trip.

By the time we got back it was only two weeks until the school’s annual ball, this year’s theme was going to be ‘Blossom Ball’. In all honesty I didn’t think Min Ho and I would be keeping this thing up for so long but maybe it was time to end it before the ball, I knew more than a couple girls were hoping for my downfall so they could go with him, and in part I did feel guilty, one of these girls could be someone he could really fall for.

After overhearing another not-so-subtle conversation in one of my extracurricular classes I decided that it was time to put it to an end.

That was until I was walking through the common room area and was bombarded by 5 people with signs, pink glittery writing spread out on them, music was turned on really loud behind me, a well known Korean love song. The signs read:

‘Y/n’ ‘Will you’ ‘go to’ ‘the dance’ ‘with me?’

Then Marco burst through the crowd of guys with a single flower in his hands, dropping down to one knee in front of me.

I could feel the eyes of all the other students, and their whispers, mostly judging Marco, because like come on, from the onlooker of an outsider, who asks out a girl to prom when she’s had a boyfriend for the past two months? I could feel the frustration building up under my skin.

“Marco can you just give it a break! I have a boyfriend, that I really like for gods sake. Leave me alone!” I say with more fire than I had intended

“I guess that’s my cue, excuse me mate,” Min Ho says coming from behind Marco who is stuck with a mortified face looking towards us.

“Now that that joke of a man is out the way, will you go to the Blossom Ball with me L/n” he asked lifting the pink roses he held, for a moment something fluttered in my heart and I reminded myself this is not real, it’s for show. I just needed to get through the ball and then we could go back to the way things were, and my heart would stop doing summersaults every time he touched me or smiled at me.

I pulled the ‘are you joking face’ and a smile, a genuine smile, spreads over my lips, I can almost drown out the pathetic complaints from Marco. A but of guilt was eating away at me but not even those surrounding us were paying him any pity, still those who were looking  were looking at Min Ho and I.

“Yes, of course,” I reply and reaching for the flowers, the second they’re out of his hands both of them are on my face and he kisses me boldly and I can feel myself blush at the reactions of all the students. The thing about Min Ho was that he didn’t need big signs or loudly blaring music to make something grand and meaningful.

“Well, I hope you have a black dress to wear so you can match my suit,”

“And what If I don’t?” I asked in a challenge.

“Then I guess you’ll be going with Mr grand gesture over there,” he points his thumb behind his back and shrugs before walking away. I watch him walk away for a moment, the audacity of this kid.

“You coming?” he asked turning around briefly and I shake my head before catching up with him.

<3 <3 <3

Thankfully the dress that I bought a while back was black and I have to admit I was looking fucking hot, with my hair curled and let down, my makeup and the black and white corsage that Min Ho dropped off earlier.

“Well well well, Min Ho is being treated tonight,” Kitty says coming out from the bathroom, now too in her dress, a satin red gown, she looked absolutely stunning, anyone would be lucky to have her.

“And who are you planning on wooing tonight Miss Covey,” I said pointing up and down her body, “You look stunning Kitty, all eyes will be on you,” I tell her and she comes give me a hug, everything in Kitty’s love life was still a little bit on fire and in chaos but she was dealing with it, I was there for her. She was doing okay and we found her family, who wasn’t exactly talking to her yet but we got the letters from Peter and we would make them listen one way or another.

We finished getting ready and headed out, the ball was on the other side of campus in one of the new buildings, I couldn’t wait to see all the decorations, and the view was said to be absolutely stunning. We met Yuri and Julianna outside the dorm building and made our way over together. The air was a perfect mix of fresh but also pleasantly warm so none of us had to wear jackets.

“You guys all look absolutely fire,” Q states the second he sees us in an exaggerated voice, complimenting little things about our looks and conveying that we may burn the building down with how hot we look.

“Is it time we talk about you now diva? Come on give us a spin,” Kitty exclaims and helps him do a little twirl. Then Jin comes back with 2 drinks and drags Q to the dance floor, Julianna and Yuri follow.

“So,” Kitty says hands behind her back and looking out at the huge room, it truly was stunning, there was petals everywhere and the colour scheme mixed pink and white and black and gold, it looked elegant, and almost too fancy for a school, “Where’s the lucky guy?” she asks.

“His dad needed something from him, but he should be here soon,” I said and spotted Praveena in my eyeline, Kitty’s gaze followed mine, “Maybe now’s the time?” I suggested, Kitty has been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since everything went down at the cabin but she can’t seem to find a way and it’s been eating away at her.

She asked five times if I was okay being left along for a while and I urged her to go, she deserved to be happy, and something was telling me that Praveena might be willing to hear her out. I headed over to the bar to get myself a drink, pulling out my phone to see a message from my mom asking me to call me when I’ve got a quiet minute. A wave of anxiety passes through me.

“Hi, are you okay?” I look up at the unfamiliar voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m Josh, you just started to look really pale I thought you were about to faint or something,” he stuck his hand out, the boy has dark blonde hair, and he is learning against the bar with a friendly smile.

I shoved my phone back into my little purse, and shook his hand, “No I’m okay, thanks though,”

“Unpleasant message?” he asks and sits down, I take a seat next to him and explain that my family had a poor history of messaging me something really vague things when it was actually something serious and it would make me worry, he then took it upon himself to make me laugh, in his words laugher was one of the best medicines. I found he was from the year above and originally from Canada, and that he wanted my number and to take me out.

The conversation was enjoyable, and he bought me another drink so I gave him my number, he even wanted to dance but I couldn’t not save my first dance for my ‘boyfriend’, Kitty would be devastated. When he left to go to talk to some of his friends, I looked at the time, I hadn’t realised an hour and a half had passed already.

It was then that a figure walking in caught my eye. Min Ho was wearing a stunning black and white suit, his hair in his classic style and yet it looked extra lush right now. Watching him run his hand through it felt as though it was in slow motion. Q who was stood near the entrance caught his searching eyes and pointed in my direction.

“You look… pathetic,” he says in that very Min Ho way of his as he walks over, head turning slightly to the side observing my dress.

I smile subconsciously, “You too,”.

“I’m sorry I’m so late you know how my dad is, when he’s in a good mood it’s one thing after another,” he said earnestly.

I shook my head, brows scrunching, “Oh no don’t worry, I met a new friend, so he kept me company,”

“Who was it?”

“His names Josh, he’s in the year above us,” I say but Min Ho doesn’t seem to look impressed.

He reached his hand forward, a few strands of hair falling forwards, “Come on let’s dance,” he says completely ignoring what I just said, “You think people will believe you’re actually my girlfriend if I don’t even dance with you,”.

A reminder rings in my head, “True, Marco might think it’s his time to swoop in,” I say and something about his facial expression changes ever so slightly, the change so small and sudden that I can’t read it before it’s gone.

He doesn’t say anything just takes a hold of my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor, we stand before each other for less than a second before I reach my hands to rest around his neck, a small awkward chuckle escapes him. This wasn’t new, I have been in very close contact with him, but this felt different.

“Plus, I know this is your favourite song,” he says looking right into my eyes, as if he could see right into my soul.

We talked about Kitty, and Q and Jin, and his dad, and what was going to happen with the big talent competition, and what our plans were for the summer neither of us noting that when these plans were happening this was going to be over. Without either of us realising about three songs had passed, we made each other laugh and then tried to pull serious faces but my attempts were poor in comparison to his.

“This is not fair

“I lo- I really, really like your laugh,” he says correcting himself, I brush him off and move one arm to brush my hair behind my ear. He lifted his hand and tucked the side of my hair behind my ear, then his fingers went to my chin to lift my gaze towards him, his eyes scanning my face.

“L/n” he said, and I could feel my heart rate increase.

“Y/n!” Kitty’s voice shouted out as she approached with our friends, the music turned upbeat and she was pulling my arm to come dance with them, and that’s how the rest of the dance was spent, drinking fancy looking mocktails and running around and dancing with our friends.

It was a few days later when my mom had flown into Seoul and was going to meet me in a restaurant at the edge of town, I told Min Ho that I was more than capable of going by myself, but he insisted that drive and come with me, I only let him when he agreed to stay in the car. In the car he argued at me about not telling him my mom was flying in and that she could have used his family’s private jet rather than coach but I told him he was just being ridiculous.

When we arrived at the restaurant I saw mom through the window, she was wearing bright colours and had a gleaming smile on her lips as she scrolled on her phone. Some of the anxiety that I was feeling the last couple of days started to fizzle away. I pulled the sleeves of the hoodie that I stole from Min Ho in the car up and walked in.

“Y/n honey!” my mom stood up to give me an embrace.

“How are you mom?” I asked, “I’ve missed you, and dad,” I said I took the seat opposite her.

She brushes her hair behind her ear, “Oh it’s been quite chaotic I do have to say,” she starts and grabs a menu, “But let’s order food first then I’ll explain,” she said, I swallowed down and even though I wanted to argue I chose not to, not yet.

The food arrived and it was delicious, mom was talking telling me about some work drama and my aunt’s new baby which was lovely, but she was avoiding whatever she came here to tell me about. After she laid down her cutlery and picked up her phone I spoke up.

“Mom, can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked nervously.

The look in her eyes when she looked up at me had my heart dropping, brows burrowing and worry painting itself over my face.

“Your dad and I are getting a divorce,”

The world stopped. It was like I’d heard her say the words, but they weren’t registering in my head.

“We’ve been separated since you went back to school after the break,”

“What? How long has this been going on?” I asked frantic.

Mom moved her hand over the table and grab mine, they were soft and warm, “About halfway through last semester, we- we’ve been trying to make it work but we’ve decided we’ll be happier this way,” she said, her thumb running over my skin was not comforting. In all truth it was making me feel nauseous.

I didn’t say another word, I grabbed my phone and stood up, putting it in my back pocket and ignoring my mom’s words, her calls out to me. The only thing I could see clearly was the door, I needed fresh air.

When I was outside I couldn’t stop walking, I headed towards the outside area of the restaurant, towards the back of the fenced land.

“L/n!” a voice called but I didn’t turn around.

“Y/n!” they called again, at this point I reached the end of the land looking outward tears rolling down my face.

“Y/n are you okay? What happened?” Min Ho was asking frantically looking me over.

“They’re getting a divorce,” I whispered, the phrase sounded foreign on my lips, “Which means it was all for nothing,”

His brows furrow and he steps closer, “What was for nothing?”

“My whole childhood I spent listening to them argue, being the one in the middle, smoothing out the creases, bring the common ground, it was all for nothing,” I said again and felt the tears doubling.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s going to get better,” he said and reached his arms wide towards me, I took a few deep breaths and let out a sob, before wrapping my arms around him and letting him pull me close as I cried into his chest, shaking my head in denial.

He brushed his fingers over my hair moving it out of my face, holding me tightly.

“You must think I’m such a mess. You definitely did not sign up for this,” I say trying to add a playful tone, but it came out more pathetic than anything.

“Y/n I’d be more worried if you weren’t reacting like this,” he said laying his chin on my head, “You’re” he paused momentarily, “You’re kind and caring and loyal and have had a lot of pressure put on you your whole life, it’s normal for you to feel like this, this panicking need to fix it, even when you know you can’t make everyone happy,” he explained and I could feel my heart start to slow as I followed his breathing subconsciously.

After another few moments I took another deep breath and pulled away, still holding onto the sides of his open denim jacket, and him the sleeves on the hoodie, not much further apart.

“Thank you,” I said, and he wiped the last of my tears off from under my eye.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said and then his eyes went from my eyes to my lips and back up, I could feel him leaning closer and my body naturally reacted, as if it were a dance it knew well. Then his lips were on mine, and they were soft and warm, and moved at exactly the right pace. I kissed back without a second thought, poured everything I was feeling into it, he pulled me close to his body. That’s when the second thought came and I pulled away.

“Min Ho, stop, what are we doing?” I asked, running my hand over my forehead, everything in my head a big mixture of mixed emotions and I could feel the tears building up again, the pressure in my chest making my shoulders rise, “There’s no one here, no need to pretend,”

“Y/n”

“In fact, I think the mission has ran its course,” I started, “Marco’s not bothering me anymore, so thank you, for everything, really. But we’ve been avoiding this because we don’t want things to be weird, but I think it’s time to come back to reality,” the words felt like sandpaper in my throat, “we should head back,” I said looking at his face, such a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn’t read them. I forced myself to walk past him, he didn’t follow straight away but then his steps echoed behind mine.

We sat in silence the whole way back to K.I.S.S and I got out the car before he could say anything, I rushed to my dorm only to be met with all three of the girls upon arrival. The second they spotted me, all faces concerned and I started to cry again. Greving my parents divorce and what felt like the loss of a friendship I so desperately didn’t want to end, my words were harsh, and I didn’t want to lose his him, but his face was a clear sign.

They all questioned what happened, Julianna made me a tea, Yuri brought in a blanket and Kitty cooed me in her arms. I didn’t mention Min Ho, I didn’t know how to go about that yet, I didn’t want to make either of us look like dickheads, ending this right after what I found out about my parents.

I managed to give myself a huge migraine, so I went to bed early, and fell asleep after crying for what felt like hours.

When I woke up in the middle of the night I looked at my phone to see the time, and what was a few messages from Min Ho.

(20:30) Posh boy: Are you feeling any better?

(20:58) Posh boy: Do you need anything? I can bring some chocolate or ice cream

(21:25) Posh boy: Please answer I’m worried about you

The last was sent a couple minutes ago,

(02:23) Posh boy: I know you’re asleep, but I’ve ordered your favourite tea and those biscuits that you love to steal from me, they should get here tomorrow

(03:00) Posh boy: Night L/n

I turned my phone back on its other side and turned around to face the other side in my bed, and forced myself to go back to sleep.

<3 <3 <3

I barley left the dorm for days, at the end of the weekend I sent an email to Alex explain the situation and explaining that I needed a few days, he accepted the request if I kept on top of the work. On Wednesday I went back to lessons, I hadn’t spoken to Min Ho since that day, he was probably avoiding me, just like I was avoiding him.

Josh and I had been texting a load since the night of the ball and I was staring to feel like maybe it could go somewhere, he respected that I needed some space right now but was already planning on some activities for us to do when I was up for it. It was making my heart hurt a little less.

When Friday rolled around, I knew I would have to face him: move night. 

The girls got in their comfies in the evening and were grabbing the snacks we bought earlier in the day, ready to head out to the boy’s room. I was dreading it and if the girls realised, I was being quiet they didn’t say anything.

When we arrived all was pretty normal. We made hot drinks and put out the snacks. Min Ho didn’t say anything to me and I hadn’t engaged either. He was sitting in his usual spot on the side of the sofa but I took a seat on Kitty’s side and laid my head on her shoulder, she quickly laid her arm around me and put her head on mine, rubbing my arm to soothe me, to tell me she’s got me. I think they all knew something was off between Min Ho and I too, that it wasn’t just the divorce I was upset about anymore, but they we’re giving me time.

I paid very little attention to the film and was ready to leave as soon as it was over. When we were back into our room Kitty sighed and turned around to me, “What’s going on with you and Min Ho, you guys seemed off tonight?” she asked.

I turned to her quickly, “We’ve ended things,” I say quickly “I think we’re figuring out how to behave around each other again,” I said earnestly.

Kitty looked both confused and worried, “Did something happen? Don’t get me wrong I love the guy but if he hurt you, I swear,” she started coming over to sit on the edge of my bed.

I gave her a sad smile, “Kitty, we just didn’t work,” I said and everything about the look on her face said she didn’t believe me, but she took the hint when I slid down my pillow and wrapped myself up in my duvet.

On Monday when I was walking to Mr Moon’s class for managers when I overheard Kitty and Min Ho talking inside, I quickly stepped back and listened from outside.

“Min Ho you’re losing her, she was so happy, literally glowed when you guys first got together, what happened?” Kitty demanded, “and don’t tell me things just didn’t work out because I’ve already heard that excuse, be honest with me,”.

I could hear a shuffle, and Min Ho taking a deep breath, “I don’t think she’d want us to be having this conversation right now,” he said.

‘Min Ho whatever you did I can see in your eyes that you care for her, so fix it before it’s too late,” Kitty says softly this time, then there’s a silence, “Oh my god,” she continued, “It wasn’t you, she ended it,” Kitty said.

“No, Kitty come on, it was a mutual decision,” he tried to argue, he tried to put in some conviction into it, but the lie was coming out weak.

“Min Ho,” Kitty said with conviction, “If you care for her you’ve got to fight, one thing I’ve learned from Lara-Jeans is that love isn’t easy and doesn’t always start in the way you expect it to, but it is worth it,” she said.

“Oh, hey Y/n,” Praveena said coming up to me, I could hear shuffles in the classroom “I wonder what Mr Moons has planned for this lesson,” she said completely ordinarily.

“Sorry I’ve got to go,” I said walking away quickly.

Later that afternoon after lessons had finished, I was leaving the main building to head back to the dorm, we were all having dinner in the boy’s dorm tonight and I was already running late because I had to tutor and bless the girl, but she was clueless. I was trying to use my arms to shield my face as much as possible from the rain that chucking down.

Then I heard a voice shout out, I turned around to see Min Ho, waking towards me.

“Y/n!” he called out and I stopped in my tracks, “finally you give me the time of day,” he says sharply, his tone makes me stand up straighter, “firstly so much for staying friends and acting normal,” he said and then ran a hand through his hair, water dripping down his face, “secondly-”

I interrupted him, “I’m sorry,”

“Y/n/”

“Look I’ve been talking to Josh and I-” this time he tried to interrupt me but I prevailed “Min Ho, he’s a good guy and I think,” I sighed, running my tongue over my lips, “I could really like him, and there’s plenty of girls waiting for you to give them a chance, but this thing between us, we blurred the lines and we need to stop” I said with the frustration coming through, rain falling harshly down my face, this is already hard enough, to know this is going to end, so why is he making it harder, giving my heart beats of hope, “We both deserve something real,” I sounded tired, even to my own ears.

“Y/n I don’t want this to end,” his voice came out just above a whisper, and I felt my heartbeat triple.

“What?” I asked, quieter than I expected.

“Look I know this was not the plan, but- I went to the club that night because I saw Marco and his buddies leave and they were teasing him about finally making a move on you, so I followed them, but I didn’t know why yet, then somewhere in this whole situation I realised that I was jealous, then it became real and I realised I didn’t want it to end, and ever time you’d bring up that we we’re doing it because of Marco it crushed me,” he said and I just stated at him.

“I think I fell in love with you,” he said looking at me, the rain pouring down his face, “A little bit… or a lot,”.

My eyes scan his face frantically. Min Ho had fallen for me. Just like I had fallen for him. Before he could move or say anything else, I fling my arms around him and kiss him passionately, holding him as close as I possible could, and that was still not close enough.

“I love you too,” I said after I pulled away, laying my forehead against his, I could see him smile before I closed my eyes again and he pulled me into a tight embrace. It felt like the relief was coursing through both of our bodies.

“It’s good to hear you finally admit it,” he said back to his natural cockiness, “Everyone eventually falls for me, it’s my charm unfortunately,” he said.

“Well stop using it on other girls or I might get jealous,”

“You know what? That does kind of make me feel some sort of way, I quite like my imaginary version of you jealous and it’s quite hot,” he muses, and I just pull him in for another kiss, running my hands through his hair. His hands on my waist pulling me close.

Then when we came back into the building, whilst still soaked, we came clean to our friends, and whilst most of them were shocked Kitty was very offended, but all in all they were glad we worked it out because it was obvious long before this that there was something bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe you pulled a Lara-Jean on me! Now I’ve fallen for it twice,” Kitty said running her hand over her forehead.

“I think this means Y/n is taking over the title of chaos queen,” Q said shaking his head, and everyone started laughing, Min Ho had his arm around me, and I naturally leaned into his chest as I giggled, and he kissed my forehead.

[crazyk-imagine]

Pack

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot again, it got cuter, Jake had a brain, Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, reader knows about imprint history, reader worries about Jake not having feelings for her, Jared is an idiot, Emily is that mom

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Okay my fellow readers, I did it. I finally sat down and did part two

*will be edited at a later time

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a hard few days after, well, learning that you were forever bonded to him.

You didn’t quite know what the right move was or if you should consider dating Jacob, even though he had clearly been in love with the whitest girl in Forks.

You gulp as you take a step back. “Could you,” you sigh, not wanting to lose it on the guy when he’s been nothing but nice to you since this whole thing happened. “Jake.”

He wasn’t paying attention and stepped closer to you again, wanting to get more bacon on his plate.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Jake! Would you please get out of my way before I declaw your paws!”

Jared glances back at the two of you, with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.

Paul doesn’t do anything to hide his amusement, much to Jacob’s chagrin. “Looks like the princess finally showed off her claws.”

He pats his pack mate’s shoulder, “glad it wasn’t your face that took the brunt of it.” Paul steps away, grabbing the muffin off your plate as he goes to sit down.

You shake your head; definitely not your finest moment. You don’t want to look at him because you don’t want to see his disappointment.

Jacob clears his throat, “we’re going to go outside.”

You open your mouth to argue as a piece of toast is shoved into your mouth.

-

“I bet that’s not what she imagined getting-” Paul doesn’t need to turn around to know his alpha is staring at him. He bolts out of the chair before anyone can take a breath.

“Paul, get back here.”

The hot head shakes his head as he shifts mid air, running into the woods.

Emily shakes her head sighing.

Jared nods, “I know. I don’t know why Paul thinks he won’t be reprimanded for saying things like that. I mean clearly, she’s going to be the dom over Jake, not the-”

He sheepishly smiles at the angry face his luna is making. “I didn’t mean it,” he sprints out the door. He looks over his shoulder and calls out the her, whining, “don’t call my mom.”

She smiles, picking up her landline, punching in the numbers. “Hi Mrs. Cameron, it’s Emily.”

A sad wolf howl can be heard from the side of the house.

-

You let him drag you out, unsure of what else to do as you feel down about how you behaved a few minutes ago. You pull the piece of toast out from your mouth. “If you’ve brought me here to kill me, just do it already.”

He scoffs, “I’m not a leech.”

“Oh, he has a heart, how wonderful.”

He rolls his eyes, “would it kill you to act normal?”

You immediately nod, “yes it would and how am I supposed to act normal when none of this is normal.”

He opens his mouth to say something when he realizes you’re right. “Okay fine, maybe none of this is normal but that doesn’t mean you need to act like it’s the end of the world.”

You scoff, “I’m not.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” he crosses his arms.

You can’t hold this in anymore.

“You know what, Jake. I’m tired. I’m so sick and tired of this- everything is so crazy and wrong and I,” you close your eyes, not wanting him to see you cry.

You lower your head, holding your breath, trying to keep yourself together.

He can sense your sadness and reaches for you, placing his hand on your arm.

You hiccup, taking a deep breath.

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer; his body heat warming you in a second.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, to calm yourself enough so you could talk to him without losing control of your emotions.

You can admit sometimes it does help to have a good crying session, but not when you need to talk.

He can tell with how slower your back is moving under his hand that you've managed to calm yourself down. He doesn't say anything to not startle you or break your concentration. He won't do that to you.

“I'm scared,” you mumble.

“Scared of what?”

You want to pull back so you can look into his eyes but you're afraid he won't understand and squeeze him tighter. “This isn't real.”

He opens his mouth to respond and stops, letting your words sink in. He can understand where you're coming from with him being in love with Bella for more than half of his young life but he also knows that this is real. Yes-

He sighs, lowering his chin to rest it on top of your head. “I know this doesn't seem real but it is. My love for Bella has nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

He squeezes you in a tight hug and pulls back. “I know things are all happening fast but I want us to work. You know, I- I can be whatever you want me to be. I can be a- a friend or a brother or more. I don't care as long as I can be in your life. We haven’t known each other long but I do know that I care for you more than I've ever cared for anyone that wasn't my family or, now the pack.”

He sucks in a nervous breath, showing off his pearly whites with his commonly new nervous grin. “I hope I didn't make things weird with that whole um-”

“Speech?” You interrupt.

He nods, “yeah that.”

You purse your lips to hide your amusement. “I,” you sigh. “I have more feelings for you than I thought I would, I'm not entirely sure what they are exactly. I know the bond isn't the whole reason why I feel the way I do but- I- if we're going to start, whatever this is going to be, this needs to start off slow. I don't just jump into things especially when it comes to starting a new relationship with someone.”

“So we're starting a new relationship?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and smack him with your piece of toast. “God, you're just like a guy.”

“I am a guy.”

“Not right now you are. You're mister professing his love,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, make fun of me.” He sits down on a rock nearby, patting the open spot beside you. “I don't want to rush into anything either and I don't want to mess this up... more than I already have-”

You stand in front of him, shaking your head. “You haven't messed anything up.”

“I did. If I didn't you wouldn't have screamed at me-”

“I didn't scream.”

He owlishly blinks. “My ears were close to bleeding.”

Your jaw drops and you smack his arm. “You're so dramatic.”

“Not always.”

You roll your eyes, “sometimes you are.”

He nods, “yeah, I’ll admit that sometimes I am.”

You take a bite of your toast.

“I don’t know how that thing has lasted this entire time.”

You shrug, “I don’t either but here we are.” You slowly lean against him, resting your head on his warm shoulder. “You’re so warm.”

“I bet he could think of another way to warm you up.”

You roll your eyes at Paul’s comment. “Go suck Jared’s-”

Your uncle, still in his wolf form, growls at the two of you.

You take another bite of your toast and look away. “He started it,” you mumble while chewing.

“Let it go,” Jacob advises. “Or else he’ll make you do things you don’t want to do.”

You shake your head, enjoying the scene of Paul trying to run away from his alpha as Jared is on the floor cackling with Embry and Quil joining after the man falls face first into the dirt.

Brady and Collin trail behind the two boys, confused at the sight before them.

-

“I can’t believe I’m stuck here.” You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.

“It’s not that bad.”

Your snaps towards Jacob, glaring at him. “I am sicker than- well you know.”

He stares at you with a deadpan expression. “You’re not funny.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

He nods, happy to see you finally agreeing with him.

“I’m a comedian.” You smile at him before coughing more, your sides start hurting more.

He carefully sits down beside you and hands you your cup of tea.

You breathe in the hot steam for a few minutes before taking a careful sip of the hot beverage.

He doesn’t stare at you (like you’d caught him doing a couple days ago, he doesn’t want you yelling at him again) and waits for you to ask him to set the mug on the table beside him.

He turns at the weight of your head resting against his shoulder and smiles softly at you as you close your eyes and breath in the steam.

His ears pick up on your slow breathing and he grabs the mug from you before you can drop it in your lap. He adjusts himself so you can lay on him, letting you use him as your “personal heater” as you said earlier.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken you out of the house and to the cliffs without a jacket the other day but he can’t deny, he likes you relying on him to take care of you.

He brushes away the few strands of fallen hair out of your face, studying your sleepy expression.

He thanks all the stars that aligned to make you his imprint, you are more than he could have ever wanted in a person. He knows now, as he listens to your breathing, his feelings for Bella are nothing compared to what he feels for you and will continue to feel for you.

He realizes he lied, he can’t be the kind of guy who’s like a brother or a friend to you.

He wants more; the wolf inside him needs more.

He would walk hundreds if not thousands of miles to be the only one to have a romantic relationship with you. He will wait as long as it takes until you feel ready to give your heart to him and chase off anyone he needs to.

He’s yours as you will (hopefully, fingers crossed) be his.

He can’t help himself as he leans forward and pecks your forehead, silently promising to spend his forever with you. 

Extra

Jared walks into your room, searching for Jacob. He needs help with his bike, hell if he knew how to describe what was happening to it.

His jaw drops, surprised to see you bundled in Jacob’s hold. He creeps into the room, practically tip-toeing to the person he needs to talk to.

He bends down and pokes Jacob’s shoulder.

The shifter barely opens his eyes as he lifts his arm to smack Jared in the back of the head, who opens his mouth to whine but is stopped by his friend covering his mouth.

“Make a sound and you’re dead.”

Jared nods, thankful for his shifter healing abilities; if he didn’t have them, he’d have a headache by now. “I need a favor.”

“You need a lot of things.”

Jared rolls his eyes, “okay, that’s fair but I need you to look at my bike.”

“Why?”

“It’s making that weird noise again.”

"Describe it to me."

“No. You made fun of me last time.”

“Fine, if I promise to not make fun of you, will you help describe it so I can figure out your issue.”

“I,” he sighs. “Roo- reer- r-” He stops when Jacob snickers. “You told me you-”

Jared falls on his back and struggles to understand what happened.

The door slams shut up the two boys.

“I told you not to go in there,” says Emily.

“You told me not to wake her,” Jared corrects her.

“And how did that work for you?”

The shifter stomps his feet as he walks down the stairs.

Jacob cackles at his friend's behavior.

“And look what the cat dragged in,” she teases him.

“Hardy-har.”

“I told him not to go in, I knew she’d kick you two out.”

He shrugs, “I know, I mean it was kind of my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have messed with Jarhead.”

“Is that princess’ new nickname?”

“Paul, shut up with that stupid nickname,” you shout from inside your room.

“Hey your voice is coming back,” the hothead comments.

You roll your eyes and open your door, glaring at one of your best friends. “Paul Isabel Lahote-”

“My middle name isn’t-”

“I know your middle name isn’t a girl's name,” you huff. “But your dumbass won’t shut up about this and I can’t take it anymore. You need to shut up so I can feel better.”

“Screaming like that won’t help you.”

You take a step forward and he takes off.

Emily shakes her head, “you’re just like your uncle.”

“Runs in the family, Em.”

Jacob steps forward and blocks your path from Paul. “You’re going back to bed.”

“But-”

He shakes his head, “bed.”

You sigh, “fine.” You sadly walk back into your room.

“Jake, tell me what you did. I can barely get her to help me be my wingman,” Embry whines.

“No one can help that.”

“You all are so rude.”

“We never claimed to be nice,” you say, voice muffled because of the door.

“I’m getting that now. I don’t even know why I shifted now.”

“You had no choice.”

“Shut up.”

Emily shakes her head at the sight of her kids (yes, she’s officially claimed you all) messing around with one another. 

Previously: Part I

-

Taglist

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

Birthday Confessions

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's Dean's birthday and the reader throws him a party:)

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: None

A/n: In honor of Dean's birthday here's a little imagine I wanted to write. Hope you guys like it:)

It had been another grueling hunt, but that was nothing new for you, Sam, and Dean. You'd been living and hunting with the Winchester brothers for what felt like ages now, becoming part of the strange family they’d built for themselves. It wasn’t always easy—life on the road, constantly fighting monsters and demons—but there was an unspoken bond between the three of you. The kind of friendship that made everything a little more bearable.

The unspoken part, though, was the secret that you and Dean had been carrying around. Both of you had developed feelings for the other, but neither of you had said a word about it. You were friends, and it felt like risking that closeness would be dangerous. So, you kept things buried, hiding the soft glances and lingering touches that neither of you could quite explain.

But then, Dean’s birthday was coming up, and you had the perfect plan in mind. You knew he hated making a big deal about it, but you wanted to do something special. Sam, ever the planner, was all in.

“Dean is not going to see this coming,” Sam said with a mischievous grin when you shared your idea. You’d been secretly organizing everything: decorating the bunker, ordering food, and even planning a little surprise cake. It was going to be perfect, and you hoped it would be enough to make Dean smile, maybe even get him to forget about the weight of the world for just a little while.

Dean came in late that evening, looking more tired than usual. He had just finished dealing with some local creatures—nothing too major, but enough to drain him. When he entered the main room of the bunker, he froze.

“What is all this?” he asked, his tone half-surprised, half-amused.

You were standing by the large table you’d set up, trying to hide your excitement. “Happy birthday, you big lug,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your heart was hammering in your chest.

Dean blinked, his lips curling into a smile as he took in the decorations—banners, balloons, a few cheesy “Happy Birthday” signs that Sam had insisted on. There were pizzas on the table and a homemade cake that you had definitely put your heart into making.

“No way…” Dean chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in disbelief. “You actually threw me a party?”

Sam, leaning against the wall with a smug grin, shrugged. “What can I say? We know you’re too stubborn to admit you like a good celebration.”

Dean shook his head, smiling like he didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or impressed. “You guys are nuts.”

You all spent the evening together—eating, drinking, and playing a few rounds of cards. For a few hours, there were no monsters, no demons, just the three of you enjoying each other’s company. It felt normal. It felt like home. But as the night wore on, the laughter faded, and soon enough, it was just you and Dean left in the room.

He was sitting on the couch, his beer in hand, looking at the cake you had carefully decorated. You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. The weight of everything—of how you’d never told him how you felt, of how he might never feel the same way—hung in the air like a cloud.

“Hey, Dean,” you started, hesitating. “I’m really glad you liked it. I wanted to do something special for you.”

He looked over at you, his eyes softening. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. But... I appreciate it. A lot. It’s been a long time since anyone’s thrown me a birthday party.”

You nodded, your throat tight. It felt like the right moment to say what had been building up inside of you for so long. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve it. You do a lot for everyone else, and you don’t always get the credit for it.”

Dean’s smile faltered, and he looked at you more seriously. “I don’t need credit. But… thanks.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to continue. But before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted it out. “I like you, Dean.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, everything went quiet. The words hung between you like a delicate thread, both of you too scared to say anything else. But Dean didn’t look away. Instead, he looked at you like he was searching for something—something he’d known but hadn’t been able to admit.

“I like you too,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost hesitant.

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted. Dean put his beer down on the table, his expression softening, and then he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your hand.

“I didn’t want to mess things up,” he admitted. “This… whatever this is between us.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with relief. “Yeah. Me neither.”

And then, before either of you could second-guess it, you closed the space between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt both exhilarating and familiar. It was slow, lingering, like you both had been waiting for this moment for so long. When you finally pulled back, you could feel the warmth of the moment in your chest.

Dean grinned, a little shy now, but there was a new light in his eyes. “Well, that’s one hell of a birthday gift.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I can’t top that, huh?”

“Not unless you’ve got another surprise up your sleeve,” Dean said with a smirk, his hand still resting near yours.

“I think that was the best surprise I could give,” you replied, your heart full as you leaned back into the couch beside him.

And for the first time, you both knew it wasn’t just about hunting or surviving anymore. It was about being together—no longer hiding behind the walls you’d built around each other.

It was finally real.

[broadwaybalogna]

What irks me is why do so many zutara shippers also love dramione or reylo. Azutara is right there if the canon redemption arc is not that relevant to you guys. I personally do not get it, but it is probably because I do not care as much for enemies to lovers as I do for friends to lovers. Or maybe because I do not care for ‘I can fix him’ love stories all that much. I do think that Katara played a role in Zuko’s redemption arc, but to me it’s so important that he changed on his own and for his own reasons. I feel like you get what I mean 😊

I’m gonna be honest I’m so tired I should not be answering this until I completely understand what you’re saying but-

Okay so I havnt watched Star Wars in years. And I never watched Harry Potter, BUT, one thing I believed that happened often was that we got to see enough interactions with these characters for people to say “oh, there’s tension here.” Or “yeah I could ship that”. Correct me if I’m wrong, I could be! But I’m pretty sure all those characters had a lot of time to get to know, understand, and grow together in some respect.

Now, I’ve never been opposed to the “two characters that barely interact should get shipped!” Train. I’ve done it before, it’s fun. You get to create character dynamics based on what you only know of the characters outside of their interactions. It makes for great character studies if anything.

My main problem is that Azula never demonstrates any emotion other than hate for the Gaang. For her brother? Idk, it’s a stretch, but I believe in familial love, it could’ve been there ever so slightly. But she quite literally never sees them as anything other than the enemy.

I can totally understand the parallel aspect to their relationship, though. The parallels are define tot there, and I can see how that can influence a persons shipping preference. I first started shipping Zutara because of all the parallels i saw between them! So yeah, I get it.

I also totally understand not shipping Zutara, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea and sometimes enemies to lovers isn’t for you. I’m not asking you to like Zutara or dislike Azutara. Katara “playing a role in Zuko’s redemption arc” also isn’t a large reason as to why people ship the two together. I mean, their talk in the catacombs was definitely filled with romantic tension if you ask me, but that’s aside the point. Almost all of Zuko’s redemption, he fulfilled on his own with Iroh’s help.

Katara’s perspective simply helped him see the war from the completely opposing point of view without outright hate. And I think that’s beautiful.

Anyways, I went really off topic. Uh, TL;DR: I really don’t know anything about Reylo or Dramione. Azutara is still meh and I these mountains are getting really hard to climb in order to find that fuck I need to give. /lh (I’m sure asker didn’t mean any harm I just think it’s funny)

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

Everybody at the party seems to know somebody (who’s not me)

Short steddie idea I had about what if they’d met somewhere around end of s1-s2 | kinda angsty | R: G | 2580 words | could be canon if the writers weren’t cowards (nowhere does it say this doesn’t happen)

————————————————————————

Steve was tired. It was a Saturday night and there were people at his house. People he didn’t know, some who knew him. Somebody brought beer, it was Saturday night and there were people drinking beer at his house and Steve was tired. Exhausted.

 He thought he would be done with house parties when he had his fall from popularity, when he was no longer King Steve but he had a big house and crowds liked space. He didn’t want them here, only recently recovered from the nightmare fuel that went down at the Byer’s house. He wanted to spend his night alone, in his bed, maybe watching a movie. He didn’t want to spend it cleaning up after high schoolers and playing messenger between a fighting Tommy and Carol who had stopped talking to him three months ago. 

“Steeeeeve!” There was a girl calling his name, tripping over her feet on her way to reach him. He fell back further into the crowd.

Somebody was pulling him onto the designated dance floor. He didn’t want to dance, he didn’t want people calling his name from across the house. Get out, please just get out.

He just wanted these people out of his house but the music was too loud and he couldn’t find it in him to send a gaggle of drunk kids out into the public unsupervised.

So he was going to block it out and let them have their fun until people started passing out on his floor and then he was going to go to bed. This was the last, last, party that would ever be held at his house so he could rub his temples and toughen up for one night. Always were too whiny, Steven. Never could toughen up, don’t bother now. His father’s voice, always his father’s voice.

Steve was trying to keep it together but he was getting a headache and the music was too loud. He distracted himself by picking up crushed solo cups and taking cans from people who were a little too drunk already, dodging Tommy when he tried to clap a hand on his shoulder. The music got louder. He was done, done with Tommy Hagan and his romantic troubles, done being Carol's personal coat rack and gossip boy.

“Steeeve,” he heard Carol shout over the music—was somebody turning it up?—from his left, “Tell Tommy-!”

“Don’t listen to that bitch, Harrington. No good cheater!” Tommy spat, coming up on his right.

Steve was so focused on getting away from the nagging voices that he didn’t notice he was marching into a denim clad shoulder. 

“Hey, man, watch where you’re going-” the guy said, he stopped when he turned around, coming face to face with Steve. If Steve were a girl he’d say the guy was gorgeous—but he wasn’t a girl so the guy wasn’t gorgeous. Steve thought he’d seen him around school, they might’ve been in the same grade.

Steve barely heard him—who was turning up the goddam music—“Watch where you’re going.” He snapped.

The guy scoffed, mumbling a quick asshole under his breath before turning back around. Steve was faced with tangled, curly hair instead of big, brown eyes.

“No, wait. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” Steve was trying to be a better person these days, he didn’t much like who he was before Byers beat him around the head. Step one was apologizing.

“Yeah well I didn’t mean to be here tonight. Guess neither of us are happy.”

Okay rude, here Steve was trying to apologize and the guy was complaining about his party—a party he hadn’t even thrown!

“Why don’t you leave if you hate it so much?” Steve questioned, again trying to sound open and nice and like a good host instead of taking the guy by the shoulders and shaking him around, you think I want to be here either?

“My friends need a ride. I came here to deal. I’m actually really enjoying myself but I didn’t want to say that to your face. Take your pick, King Steve.” God, Steve hated that name. Even when he was popular it made his skin crawl.

“I hate it here too.” It was too quiet, he wasn’t sure Brown Eyes heard him. Steve didn’t know why he said it, didn’t know why it came across as more than being done with a shitty party, why it came across as if he meant—

He didn’t know the guy, “They keep turning the music up.” There definitely wasn’t any reason to say that, Brown Eyes didn’t care that he was a baby who couldn’t handle loud music anymore.

The boy stared at him for a second and Steve wondered if this was his way of politely telling him to fuck off, but then he was being dragged through the crowd by a hand on his wrist. Carol tried to latch on to his other arm but he shook her off, he supposed he could shake off Brown Eyes too but he didn’t want to. He didn’t know where Brown Eyes was dragging him to, it could be a quiet corner to kill him for all he knew about the guy. Maybe—maybe Steve would let him, maybe he would show him where the knives were tucked away in the kitchen and tell him which ones were too dull to get the job done. But Brown Eyes didn’t look like the type to kill on first meeting.

“Where are we going?” Steve managed to ask, only after Brown Eyes opened the patio door.

“Outside.” Brown Eyes grinned.

“No shit, you don’t say.” Steve grumbled.

“You said you hated it in there so I brought us out here. It’s not like you can leave your own house party so this is the next best thing.”

 The boy plopped down at the edge of the pool. Steve hadn’t sat so close to it since Barb died, he hadn’t even opened it since Barb died but some asshole found their way out here and tripped into the switch. It screamed when it opened, a horrible sound Steve had been trying to forget since being dragged into the mess that was the Upside Down, and he’d nearly stopped breathing when the guy who opened it almost fell in. 

He sat down, keeping his legs far from the water, unlike Brown Eyes who’d already gotten his shoes off and dunked his feet. Steve had to sit on his hands to stop from grabbing him by the back of his collar and dragging them both back inside, away from the pool. He had bite the inside of his lip until he tasted blood to stop from saying something stupid, something like please don’t sit so close to the water don’t get in don’t let it touch you because the last person who sat like this never made it past graduation. 

In his search for a distraction, anything to keep words sure to get him a look from tumbling out, Steve noticed that the guy had a metal lunch box with him when he lifted the lid, bringing out weed. Oh. They were here to smoke. Something Steve hadn’t done since, well a long time.

“It’s not mine.” Steve mumbled in the silence. 

Brown Eyes raised an eyebrow from where he was bent over a lighter.

“The party. It’s not—I didn’t throw it.” Steve felt silly saying that, it was his house after all so he was responsible.

Brown Eyes just hummed, didn’t question it, only asking, “Who did?”

Steve took the joint when Brown Eyes handed it to him—out of habit, he’d say later. He’d say a lot of things later.

“Tommy. Or Carol. They’re the only ones who know where the spare key is and I sure as hell didn’t unlock my door for a dozen people.” Steve sighed, blowing out the smoke.

“Shit.” Brown Eyes took the joint, exhaling his own drag before he spoke—Steve would say, later, that it didn’t make his stomach swirl like the smoke between them— “You know you could get them arrested, right? That’s technically breaking in. Think I even saw some kid break a fancy little vase. Breaking and entering right there.”

Steve winced, his mom loved those vases more than him—not exactly a difficult thing to do but he was sure to be skinned alive if she found out, “Like Hopper would believe I wasn’t just saying that to get rid of the blame. He’s busted my parties one too many times and he’s not exactly up to date on the high school drama that is my fall from grace.”

“Well you have one eye witness if you decide to go to the cops. Though I can’t say how reliable they’ll find me.” Brown Eyes turned to him with a grin. 

They passed the weed back and forth for a while. Steve didn’t like being high much, this felt different, every other time he'd had to keep up the image. Sitting and talking high with Brown Eyes was easier than talking to Carol and Tommy sober. Steve would decide that was the weed talking when he got his brain back. Easy conversation about nothing, probably classes they had together, led to Brown Eyes asking what had caused Steve’s downfall.

If Steve hadn’t stopped breathing that moment he might’ve spilled his guts about the Upside Down. If his heart hadn’t stopped and he didn’t need to get away from the pool immediately, he would’ve just kept talking. The real answer to Brown Eyes’ question was Barb’s death. The real reason he lost his popularity was the night Nancy’s best friend died in his pool and everything had gone to shit.

Brown Eyes noticed his panic, “Woah there, okay that’s enough weed for tonight. You okay, dude? You’re, like, super spooked.”

“I-yeah, I’m fine. Just, there’s more to the story than high school drama. Stuff I’d really rather not relive.” Steve scooted away from the pool a little further and hoped, pleaded with every bone in his body, that Brown Eyes wouldn’t press.

He didn’t, thankfully, just sat back with Steve—out of the water Steve realized, “We’ve all got ghosts in our closets.” He said.

Steve huffed out a laugh, “Isn’t it skeletons?”

“That would mean somebody sees them, Stevie. Ghosts are much more invisible.”

“You have ghosts?” Steve asked, quiet.

��Oh, loads.” Brown Eyes shrugged, “I’m basically a haunted house, man.” That made Steve laugh, “What about you? The ones you can talk about anyway.”

“You mean other than the fact that my house is a ghost town in and of itself? Try parents that are never around to watch you at sports you joined for their attention or friends who only like you when you’re rich.” Steve sighed, “God that’s so fucked up, I should be grateful for the money. Not complaining like an asshole.”

“You know I might’ve agreed with you a few months ago. I don’t think it’s actually the money you’re talking about, though. It’s the life, right?”

Steve felt himself nodding.

“You’re not an asshole for being lonely, Harrington.”

Steve almost remembered he never asked Brown Eyes’ name. Almost remembered to ask it now, but he didn’t, just let them lapse into silence. Steve didn’t look up for a few minutes, but when he did Brown Eyes was looking at him. Steve felt his breath hitch for a second time, not out of a panic like before. When had they gotten so close? Were their pinkies always just barely brushing?

Steve would make a dozen excuses later. Maybe he was just too high, maybe his hand slipped and he accidentally fell forward. He was lonely, Brown Eyes had said it himself. Maybe he was imagining a girl in Brown Eyes’ place. But when Brown Eyes leaned closer, a question in his eyes, Steve didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to be the one to break this, he wanted to see how far Brown Eyes would go. 

He told himself he only closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see when it happened, only pushed forward that last inch because—maybe he didn’t have an excuse for that but it didn’t matter because Brown Eyes didn’t pull away and he didn’t pull away. He felt the foreign feather light brush against his own lips distantly, an out of body sensation that left him tipping forward when Brown Eyes scrambled back.

“Oh shit.” Brown Eyes muttered, pushing a finger to his lips, “Oh fuck this is-this isn’t—”

“We’re just high, right?” Steve pushed off the concrete, standing probably a little closer to Brown Eyes than necessary. 

Brown Eyes was avoiding Steve’s gaze. He knew Steve was grasping at excuses he didn’t even believe himself. Brown Eyes seemed to deflate, hunching in on himself and Steve would think it looked almost disappointed if he could think anything at all right now.

“Yeah. Yeah, one joint split between us and we’re both high enough to kiss, right King Steve?” Sarcasm dripping through his words but it didn’t feel mean, it felt desperate.

It was then Steve realized he never asked the guy’s name. He needed-he wanted to know now. Before he could ask, though, Brown Eyes was backing away.

“I-I’ve got to go. I… I’ll see you around, Harrington.” 

“Wait-I never—” never got to finish his sentence. Never got to ask Brown Eyes for his name. Because Brown Eyes was through the door and disappearing in the crowd inside before Steve could get a word out and he was alone. 

Steve stayed by the pool for a long time, the longest he’d been out there even before Barb’s death. The air turned cold, leaving him littered with goosebumps, but Steve just stood there. He wanted to scream, wanted to kick and cry and throw a tantrum. That’s not how Harrington’s act, Steven, don’t be such a big baby, Steven. He could practically hear his fathers voice digging its way into his ears. God, he was a dead man if his dad found out about this, he was a dead man and there wasn’t a thing his mom could do—if she would even still stick up for him now. 

He wanted to believe she would, wanted to think she would tell him it was going to be okay but she’d just stand back and start planning for his funeral. Maybe she’d remember the time they sat in the garden years and years ago and Steve told her his favorite flowers were the daisies she would tuck into her hair on summer afternoons, maybe she would remember sliding them into his hair and then picking them out before they went inside as she told him it would be their secret and maybe she would lay them over his coffin.

In his panicked state, he noticed the guy left his shoes behind, black converse coming apart at the seams. There were little drawings scattered around the bottoms, Steve saw, smudged and dirty. He should return them. He doesn’t know who they belong to but he should return them. He couldn’t just leave them outside, at least that’s what he told himself as he trudged through his now empty house, hours later. It was the weekend anyway so he couldn’t even return them, that’s why he found a place for them in his closet. He didn’t know who they belonged to, that’s why he kept them there until summer bled into fall bled into winter. 

————————————————————————

Fun fact: I was listening to acolyte by slaughter beach, dog when I finished writing this

[dreamlanderin]

You don't see me, part 3 (Sam x reader)

Summary: Time apart. Follows on part 2

Warning: Blood. Demons. Angst if you squint

Words: 8k

Boys, I wish I could’ve explained this in person, but I knew you wouldn’t let me leave. I’m not walking away from you or the fight—I’m walking toward the person I promised I’d be when I first joined you. I need to find her again. Don’t look for me.

That’s what you’d left behind. Nothing for Sam, no apology, no explanation beyond those carefully chosen words. No indication of where you were headed or when, if ever, they might see you again. They’d been confused at first.

Dean came looking for you not long after Sam regained consciousness. His knocks on your door echoed down the empty hallway, sharp and impatient, but no answer came.

At first, Dean feared the worst. The memory of you clutching your side during the hunt came rushing back, sharper now with the realization that he hadn’t checked on you after they got Sam stabilized. He’d been too focused on his brother, on Ruby, on the chaos. The idea that you might’ve bled out alone in your room made his chest tighten painfully. “Damn it,” he muttered, his fist pounding against the door one last time before he shoved it open. The room was eerily pristine, the bed made, the surfaces cleared of the usual clutter. It was too perfect, and for a brief moment, Dean thought you’d been taken—dragged out of the motel while he’d been distracted.

His gaze swept the room in a panic, catching on the empty closet and the missing duffel bag that used to sit by the foot of your bed. That’s when he saw it. The note lay folded neatly on the nightstand, your name scrawled on the outside in your unmistakable handwriting. Dean crossed the room in two strides, snatching it up with shaky hands. He read it once, then again, the words sinking in like lead. You weren’t taken. You’d left.

For a long moment, Dean just stood there, staring at the note as his jaw clenched tighter and tighter. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. His grip on the paper tightened, crumpling the edges as a wave of anger surged through him. You were hurt. You were supposed to stay and recover. And what the hell did you mean, Don’t look for me? Did you really think he was the kind of guy who could just sit back and let you walk away?

Dean stormed back to thier room, the note clenched in his fist. When he reached the table, he slammed it down in front of Sam, who was still pale and sluggish, slouched in his chair.

“She’s gone,” Dean said bluntly, his voice tight. Sam blinked, his brows furrowing as he reached for the crumpled note. “What do you mean, gone?”

“Read it,” Dean snapped, pacing the room like a caged animal. Sam’s eyes scanned the letter quickly, his face darkening with each word. When he finished, he set the note down carefully, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Why?” he asked, his voice quiet but strained. Dean stopped pacing, turning to glare at his brother. “I don’t know, Sam. Maybe because she got tired of patching us up and watching you play tug-of-war with a damn demon?”

Sam flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “Dean—”

“She didn’t even say goodbye, Sam,” Dean said, his voice breaking for just a second before he covered it with a sharp exhale. “What the hell does that mean?”

Sam’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Dean let out a sharp exhale, raking a hand through his hair as he stared at the note again. “I don’t get it. She was one of us. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.” Sam hesitated, then said quietly, “Maybe that’s why she left.”

Dean froze, his shoulders tense, but he didn’t argue. The words hung heavy in the air between them, unspoken truths pressing down like a weight neither of them wanted to carry.

Finally, Dean grabbed the note and stuffed it into his pocket, his expression hardening. “She said not to look for her,” he muttered, heading toward the kitchen. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Sam sat in silence, staring down at the table. The faint sound of Dean opening and slamming cabinets echoed in the distance, but his mind was elsewhere.

He thought about the way you’d looked at him in the motel room, the quiet pain in your eyes when you leaned in and told him, It’s me, Sam. He thought about the moments before that—your hands pressed to his chest, your voice trembling as you told him to hold on.

And now you were gone.

Sam closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Stupid,” he whispered, the weight of your absence settling over him like a shadow.

He’d been out of it last night—so much of it felt like a blur now. But one thing he remembered, clear as day, was the moment you got attacked by the Shadow Stalker. You’d screamed and before he even had time to think, he was already throwing himself between you and that thing. The impact had been brutal, the creature’s claws raking through his chest and shoulder as if he were nothing. He’d felt the burn of his body hitting the ground, the sharp ache of ribs threatening to give way. By the time he realized what had happened, he was already in the Impala.

His head was resting on your lap, the faint scent of blood and dirt mixing with the metallic tang in his mouth. Everything around him was hazy—the sound of Dean shouting, the rumble of the car engine, the warmth of your hands pressing against his wounds to stop the bleeding. You’d said something to him—your voice soft, steady, and full of worry. He couldn’t remember the exact words now, but he remembered the feeling of it.

He’d tried to reach out then, his hand brushing against the fabric of your jeans as he fought to lift it higher. He’d wanted to touch your hair, to brush away the blood he’d noticed streaked across it. But his strength had failed him, and before he could manage it, the darkness pulled him under again.

And now you were gone

The fever dreams had come and gone in waves. Something in the dark was always following him, its shadowy tendrils creeping closer no matter how fast he ran. There was a light ahead—distant, wavering, always just out of reach—and he chased it. He wasn’t sure why, but the instinct to reach it burned through him.

Then his eyes would open, and the real world would filter in, fragmented and confusing. Voices, sometimes low and steady like Dean’s, other times higher and softer. Was it you? He thought it was, but then the voice would shift, distort, and become someone else entirely. Ruby? No. It couldn’t be Ruby. Could it?

Heat pressed against his skin, making him sweat despite the cold ache in his body. Everything had hurt—sharp pangs in his chest, dull throbs in his head—but none of it mattered as much as the exhaustion. It weighed him down, pulling him back into the haze of his mind where the dreams waited.

Things blurred together there: distorted faces, shadowy monsters, fragments of hunts long since passed. It all swirled in a chaotic fog, except for one thing that stood out with perfect clarity. You.

You were there, in the midst of it all. You looked at him, said something he couldn’t quite hear, but the feeling in your voice reached him. It was grounding, pulling him toward you even as the darkness clawed at his edges. He’d opened his eyes again, and there you were, sitting by his side and he had mumbled something, he can't remember much of what he had said. Something about You and not regreting protecting you? He’d barely gotten the words out before the edges of reality blurred again. His mind flickered, pulling him back into the haze, but not before he noticed someone else in the room. Ruby. Why was she here? The thought barely registered before his head lolled to the side, his strength fading once more. Darkness crept in again, pulling him under before he could make sense of anything.

By the time he regained consciousness, the worst of it had passed. The fog in his mind had lifted just enough for him to make out the dimly lit room and the distinct shapes within it. Dean was slouched in the chair beside the bed, his arms crossed and his head tilted to one side, deep in sleep. Sam’s gaze shifted to the other figure in the room—Ruby, leaning casually against the wall with a lazy grin. “Finally awake, huh?” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. Sam frowned, the residual confusion making his head feel heavy.

Everything hurt—his chest, his shoulder, even his pride—but most of all, he felt a strange relief that everyone seemed to be okay. Dean was alive, and he could only assume you were too, though the room was conspicuously missing your presence. “How long?” His voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper. “A couple of hours,” Ruby replied, pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward him. “You were a mess. Guess I saved your ass again.”

Sam blinked, trying to sit up, but the sharp sting in his shoulder quickly convinced him otherwise. Ruby was at his side in an instant, her hand brushing against his arm to stop him. “Easy there, champ. Don’t go pulling those stitches.” He hesitated, glancing at her hand before looking away. Something felt off. Maybe it was the hazy memories of the hunt or the way her voice sounded too smooth, too deliberate. Or maybe it was the guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind, the feeling that he’d somehow let everyone down by getting hurt. “Where’s—” he started, but Ruby cut him off. “Not here,” she said, her tone sharp but casual.

It must have been the look on his face that made her continue.“Does it matter? They’re fine. You need to focus on getting better.” Sam frowned but didn’t push it. His throat felt dry, and the ache in his body made it hard to think straight. Ruby crouched beside him, her dark eyes narrowing as she studied him.

“You’re still weak,” she said after a moment, her voice softening into something almost sympathetic. “That thing did a number on you. And if you don’t bounce back soon, it’s gonna happen again.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam muttered, his voice hoarse.

Ruby smirked, shaking her head. “You’re stubborn. I’ll give you that.” She straightened up, pulling a small blade from her pocket. The sight of it made Sam’s stomach churn, even before she dragged it across her palm, letting a thin line of blood well up against her skin. “You know what you need,” she said, holding her hand out toward him.

Sam stared at it, the sight of the dark, rich blood stirring a mix of instinct and revulsion. He knew she was right—her blood could heal him, give him the strength to recover faster than his body ever could on its own. He’d done it before, too many times to count. But this time… This time, something felt different.

“I don’t want it,” he said, his voice firmer than before. Ruby raised an eyebrow, her grin fading into something colder. “Don’t be stupid, Sam. You’re not gonna get better on your own.”

“I said no.” He pushed the words out through gritted teeth, his gaze meeting hers with a stubborn determination. Her expression darkened, the easy charm slipping away to reveal something more dangerous. “You’re seriously gonna let yourself waste away out of what—pride? Morality? Don’t forget who pulled you out of that mess.”

“I remember,” Sam said quietly, the weight of his words heavier than she might’ve expected. He thought of the hunt, of you running into danger without hesitation, of Dean working tirelessly to keep him alive. He himself didn't quite understand why he was turning a cure down, maybe that Shadow Stalker had infected his mind in a way that made him desperate to keep the dark out. And demon blood, was as dark as it could get.

“This isn’t the answer.”

Ruby’s jaw tightened, and she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “You’re being reckless. You think you’re stronger than you are, but you’re not. Without me, you’d be dead. Without this”—she held her bleeding hand closer—“you’re useless.” Sam’s chest tightened, a flicker of doubt threatening to take hold, but he pushed it down. He shook his head, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

Ruby’s smirk faltered for a split second before settling into something sharper, colder. “Not in the mood?” she repeated, her tone laced with mockery. “This isn’t about your mood, Sam. This is about staying alive.”

But it wasn’t just about staying alive, and they both knew it. He could feel it now—that gnawing pull, the faint burn in his veins that left him restless and raw. He hated that part of him, the part that had grown dependent on her blood, that craved the rush of power it gave him.

It had started small, just enough to stay sharp, to keep fighting. That’s what he’d told himself, anyway. But over time, it had become something else. He couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced when she answered his calls, the way he’d catch himself checking his phone like some desperate junkie waiting for a fix. Ruby wasn’t just a partner. She was his dealer, and every time he gave in, it felt like she tightened the chain around his neck. “I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. “Just… not now.”

Her smirk returned, cruel and knowing. “You’re such a cliché, you know that?” she said, leaning down slightly, her dark eyes boring into his.

"Afraid Dean might see?"

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he looked away. She wasn’t wrong, and that only made him hate her more. Ruby huffed out a laugh, short and bitter. “Fine,” she said, straightening up. “You do you, Sam. But don’t expect me to keep cleaning up your messes when you’re too proud to ask for help.” She wiped the blood on a rag, her movements brisk and annoyed, before tossing the stained cloth onto the table. “You know where to find me when you change your mind,” she added, her voice softening into something almost seductive. Her boots echoed against the floor as she walked away, the door clicking shut behind her.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Sam stayed where he was, staring at the ceiling, his hands clenching into fists. The ache in his body was relentless, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the ache in his mind.

He hated himself for wanting it. For the small, traitorous part of him that considered calling her back.

Not this time, he thought bitterly. Not now. But the doubt lingered, clawing at the edges of his resolve.

It wasn’t just the craving—it was the shame that came with it. The knowledge that he’d let himself fall this far, that he’d traded pieces of himself for power he wasn’t even sure he wanted anymore. He hated what it said about him, about the choices he’d made.

That’s why he kept it to himself. Dean didn’t know. He couldn’t know. The thought of telling him, of seeing the disappointment and anger in his brother’s eyes, was unbearable. Dean always believed in fighting with what you had, not what you could take, and Sam knew this would cross a line Dean couldn’t forgive. And you? You would see right through him. You always had a way of peeling back the layers he tried to hide behind, exposing the things he wasn’t ready to admit—not even to himself. You’d dig and dig, your concern masquerading as stubborn determination, and it would only be a matter of time before you uncovered the truth. He couldn’t let that happen.

So he kept you at arm’s length. It wasn’t fair, and he knew it. But it was easier to push you away than to risk you looking at him the way he was afraid you might. Like you didn’t recognize him anymore.

Sam sighed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. The room was quiet now, the only sound the faint hum of the motel’s air conditioner. He hated how tangled everything had become—how every choice he made seemed to push him further away from the people who mattered most.

You’re gone because of me, he thought, the words heavy and bitter.

He leaned back against the chair, his gaze drifting to the empty space where you might’ve sat if things had been different. If he hadn’t been too much of a coward to tell you the truth. The truth was... no he couldn’t say it. Even now, with the ache in his body and the haze in his mind, that truth would remain his for now. Still, he felt asif if somehow he had become this terrible monstrous thing. He didn't deserve you or Dean.

Sam let out a shaky breath, his chest tightening with a mix of regret and resignation. He wanted to tell himself it was better this way, that you were safer without him dragging you into his mess. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. The truth was, he didn’t know how to fix this. Not the addiction, not the distance he’d created between himself and Dean, and definitely not that coldness you’d left behind. For now, all he could do was sit with the weight of it, the silence pressing down on him like a punishment he knew he deserved.

The sound of drawers slamming and the clatter of gear being thrown into a bag jolted Sam from his thoughts. He blinked, lifting his gaze to see Dean storming around the room, his jaw tight and his movements sharp with frustration. “What are you doing?” Sam asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. “What does it look like?” Dean snapped, tossing a handful of shotgun shells into his duffel. “I’m going after her.” Sam frowned, pushing himself up a little despite the protest in his shoulder. “Dean… she left a note. She doesn’t want us to go after her.” Dean froze for half a second before turning on his heel, his eyes blazing as he pointed a finger at Sam. “Don’t start with me. She’s hurt, she’s out there alone, and you think I’m just gonna sit here and twiddle my thumbs because of some damn note?”

“She’s not stupid,” Sam said quietly, his voice careful. “She knows how to handle herself.”

Dean scoffed, slamming his bag shut with a force that made the whole table shake. “Yeah? Well, she didn’t handle herself too great when she went toe-to-toe with that Shadow Stalker. Did you forget how banged up she was? I sure as hell didn’t.” Sam clenched his jaw, the memory of your bloodstained shirt flashing through his mind. He hadn’t forgotten. How could he?

“She’s trying to figure things out,” Sam said after a long pause. “She needs space.” Dean let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he shrugged on his jacket. “Space? That what we’re calling it now? Sam, she didn’t even say goodbye to you. She didn’t say goodbye to either of us.”

“That’s not the point,” Sam muttered, looking away.

“No, the point is she’s out there somewhere, bleeding and pissed off, and I’m not just gonna let her disappear without a fight. So why are you, huh?” Dean’s voice softened slightly, though the fire in his eyes remained. Sam didn't know how to answer him.

“We’re family, man. We don’t leave each other behind. That’s not how we do things.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the chair. “What if you chasing her just makes it worse? She doesn’t want to be found, Dean. You saw the note.”

Dean paused, his hands tightening around the strap of his bag. For a moment, the anger in his expression faltered, replaced by something rawer—fear, maybe, or guilt. “Yeah, well… tough,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “She can hate me all she wants, but I’m not gonna sit here and do nothing. Not when she might need us.” Sam didn’t argue, but the doubt lingered in his mind. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t sure if Dean’s stubborn determination would bring you back—or drive you further away.

Dean grabbed his keys, his movements resolute as he headed for the door. “You staying here or coming with me?” Sam hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. His body ached, his mind was a mess, and the thought of going after you filled him with equal parts hope and dread. “I’ll stay,” he said finally, his voice low. “You’ll move faster without me.” Dean stopped at the door, glancing back at his brother with a look that was equal parts frustration and understanding. He didn’t push it, just nodded once before stepping out into the night. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Sam alone with the echo of his brother’s resolve—and the weight of his own inaction. He didn’t deserve to find you.

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

You’d hitched a few rides over the past day, bouncing from one truck stop to another as you slowly made your way north. The drivers didn’t ask too many questions, and you didn’t offer much beyond polite thanks and vague mentions of family up the road. It kept things simple, and simple was exactly what you needed. After that you were on a bus, the long ride stretching out before you as the highway unraveled into the distance. The seat was stiff, the air stale with the faint scent of old upholstery and spilled coffee, but it was quiet. That was what mattered most—quiet and distance.

It had taken another day or two to reach Bobby’s. You’d mapped it out in your head, calculating the stops and connections with the kind of precision that came from years of tracking hunts. But this wasn’t a hunt. This was something different, something heavier, and the weight of it sat in your chest like a stone. Youd leaned your head against the bus window, the blur of fields and trees rushing past. The weight in your chest was familiar now—regret, guilt, and something else you couldn’t quite name. You’d left to find yourself, but the question remained: Could you even recognize her anymore?

Bobby would have a place for you—you were sure of that much. Or atleast that was your thought process on the bus. He always had room for strays, and you were no exception. But the thought of facing him, of explaining why you’d left, twisted your stomach into knots. Bobby wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and you knew he’d see right through you the moment you walked through his door. You sighed, closing your eyes as the bus rattled on. You didn’t have all the answers yet, and maybe you wouldn’t by the time you got there.

You started to feel silly about the whole thing—walking away like this, leaving behind a life you’d fought so hard to build. Maybe you should’ve stayed, if only to see if Sam was okay. The image of him lying on that bed, pale and broken, flashed through your mind, and for a moment, your resolve wavered.

But you dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came. Staying would’ve only made things worse—for him and for you. You’d spent enough time trying to patch up the cracks in everyone else’s lives while ignoring your own. This wasn’t about Sam, or Dean, or any of it. This was about finding yourself again, about keeping a promise you’d nearly forgotten you’d made. Still, as the bus rumbled down the highway, a small, stubborn part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake. If maybe, just maybe, you’d left something behind that you weren’t ready to let go of. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy being back at Bobby’s.

The creak of the porch under your boots, the smell of motor oil and dust in the air, the piles of junk and old car parts scattered around—it should’ve felt like a refuge. But it didn’t. Not now. You leaned on the porch railing, staring out at the yard. Everything about this place screamed familiarity, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on you. Being here brought everything bubbling up—the doubts, the guilt, the question of whether leaving had been the right thing to do. This was where you'd met the boys, and all just came flooding back to you.

When you’d shown up on Bobby’s doorstep, he’d just squinted at you like he could read the whole story written on your face. No lectures, no questions. Just a gruff, “Well, don’t just stand there like an idjit. Get your ass inside.” That was Bobby for you. You ended up, sat, in his kitchen, hands curled around a mug of coffee you hadn’t even taken a sip from. Bobby leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his eyes sharp and waiting. “You look like hell,” he finally said. You almost laughed at how matter-of-fact he was. “Thanks, Bobby. Nice to see you too.” He raised an eyebrow. “You want nice, you’re in the wrong house. What’s goin’ on?” You sighed, staring into the coffee like it held some kind of answer.

“I left.” His face didn’t change, not much. Maybe a flicker of something in his eyes. “You mean the boys?”

You nodded.

“You just up and walked out on ’em?”

“It’s... complicated,” you muttered, setting the coffee down. “Sam got hurt—real bad—and it just... it felt like everything was falling apart. There’s this distance now. Between all of us. Between me and him.”

“Sam, huh?” Bobby said, and there was something in the way he said it that made you feel like he already knew more than you’d told him. You rubbed the back of your neck, staring at the table. “I couldn’t stay, Bobby. I was... I don’t know. Waiting, I guess. Waiting for something to get better, for something to change. But it didn’t. And in the meantime, I was just... losing myself. Trying to fix everything, trying to keep up. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Bobby didn’t say anything for a minute, just tipped his head like he was weighing your words. Then he let out a deep sigh. “And now you’re here. Lookin’ for what, exactly? A pat on the back? Somebody to tell you it’s all fine and dandy?” You flinched a little but shook your head. “I’m just... I need space, Bobby. To figure out who I am outside of all this.” He nodded slowly, his face softening just a little. “Well, you got space here. Long as you need it. But listen to me—run all you want, you’ll still be you when you get where you’re goin’. That’s what you gotta reckon with. Not Sam, not Dean. You.” You nodded, swallowing hard. He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong. “Appreciate it,” you said quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” Bobby grumbled, straightening up and heading for the fridge. “You want somethin’ to eat, or you just plan on sittin’ there starin’ at that coffee all night?” It wasn’t easy being back at Bobby’s. But maybe that was exactly what you needed.

The days at Bobby’s passed slowly, a strange blend of familiarity and restlessness. You threw yourself into work—cleaning up the salvage yard, organizing his cluttered shelves, fixing up a few busted cars. Anything to keep your hands busy and your mind too occupied to wander.

But even as you distracted yourself, the silence pressed in, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at your phone, half-hoping, half-dreading to see Dean’s name or a text from Sam. You’d received a few over the past few days, but you ignored all of them. The calls went unanswered, and the texts were left on read. The only message you sent was a short, vague reply: I’m safe. Don’t worry. It wasn’t enough to stop Dean from trying. He never took “don’t worry” for an answer, and his persistence made it harder to stick to your resolve. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart clenched. Part of you wanted to pick up, to hear his voice and let him lecture you into coming back. But you couldn’t do that—not yet.

And Sam… well, you weren’t sure you could face him even if you tried. The memory of his pale, bloodied face haunted you, along with the weight of the words he’d mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness. You matter. You’d wanted to believe him, wanted to hold on to the warmth of that moment. But it had been fleeting, and when Ruby’s name slipped into the air between you, it shattered everything you thought you’d felt.

You dismissed the thoughts as quickly as they came. Staying wouldn’t have fixed anything. It would’ve only made things worse—for you and for them. You’d spent too much time trying to hold everyone together, trying to patch up cracks in people who didn’t even want your help. This wasn’t about Dean, or Sam, or Ruby. It was about you. And you’d promised yourself, long before you even met the Winchesters, that you wouldn’t lose yourself again.

Bobby didn’t say much at first, just watched you work with his usual scrutinizing gaze. He let you settle in, his silence almost comforting in its predictability. But that didn’t stop him from throwing in the occasional jab. “You gonna do somethin’ useful today, or you just plan to stand there lookin’ like a lost puppy?” he asked one afternoon, leaning against the doorway as you sorted through a pile of old hunting gear. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you held up a rusted blade.

“I’m cleaning up your mess, Bobby. I’d say that’s plenty useful.” He snorted, but there was a softness in his eyes that told you he wasn’t as gruff as he pretended to be. “You keep that attitude up, you’ll fit right in with the junkyard.” Later that evening, as you sat in the kitchen nursing a mug of coffee, Bobby finally cut to the chase. “So,” he started, settling across from you with his own mug. “How long you plannin’ on mopin’ around here?” You frowned, your fingers tightening around the handle.

“I’m not moping.”

“Sure, and I’m the King of England.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not foolin’ anyone, kid. Least of all me.”

You sighed, staring into the dark liquid in your cup. “I just needed some space, Bobby. That’s all.”

“Space is fine,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But space don’t fix what’s broken. You know that as well as I do.” Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you didn’t say anything. When you finally looked up, his gaze was steady, unrelenting in a way that made you feel like a kid again. “I couldn’t stay,” you admitted quietly. “It felt like I was… drowning. Trying to keep everything together, trying to be everything for everyone. And Sam…” Bobby tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to finish. “There’s something going on with him,” you said, your voice faltering. “Something he’s not telling me—or Dean. I tried to figure it out, but every time I got close, he’d shut me out.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just tapped a finger against the side of his mug as he mulled over your words. Then, after a long pause, he said, “You’re not wrong about the boy.” You blinked, sitting up a little straighter. “What do you mean?”

He let out a sigh, his gaze drifting to the window as if he were debating how much to say. “Dean called me a while back. Said Sam’s been… different. Edgy. More than usual.” Your stomach twisted. “Did he say why?” Bobby shook his head. “Not in so many words. But he mentioned Ruby’s name a couple times. Said Sam’s been spendin’ too much time with her.” The mention of Ruby sent a chill down your spine.

“He’s in love with her,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

Bobby’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening slightly. “Love’s a strong word. More like… she’s got her claws in him real deep. Sam’s a smart kid, but he’s also stubborn as hell. He thinks he’s doin’ what’s best, but I got a feelin’ he’s diggin’ himself a hole he can’t climb out of.” The knot in your chest tightened. You’d seen it too—the way Ruby hovered just close enough to keep him tethered, the way his shoulders relaxed when she was around. You hated her for it, hated the way she seemed to know exactly how to pull Sam���s strings. “He’s gonna get himself hurt,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. Bobby sighed, his gaze softening. “Maybe. But that ain’t your problem to fix.” You nodded, though the words didn’t settle as easily as they should’ve.

That night, as you sat on the porch with a blanket draped over your shoulders, you stared up at the stars and tried to make sense of everything. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint chirp of crickets and the distant rustle of wind through the trees. You thought of Sam, of the way his eyes had searched yours in that motel room. You thought of Dean, of his relentless determination to keep everyone together. And you thought of yourself, sitting here now, wondering if you’d done the right thing. The stars didn’t have any answers. Neither did you. But as the night stretched on, you realized that maybe Bobby was right. Maybe space wouldn’t fix what was broken.

You missed them.

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

Dean’s knuckles tightened around the wheel of the Impala as the miles ticked by. The road stretched ahead in a blur of asphalt and scattered headlights, but his mind was somewhere else. The crumpled note sat in the passenger seat, the words burned into his brain no matter how hard he tried to shake them. Don’t look for me. Like hell he wouldn’t.

He’d started at the last place they’d been, retracing your steps like it was any other hunt. Truck stops, diners, gas stations—he grilled anyone who might’ve seen you, his tone sharp and clipped, his patience nonexistent. A few vague descriptions matched your appearance, but they all pointed in different directions. It was like you’d vanished into thin air, leaving only breadcrumbs that barely stuck together. He pulled into another gas station, the fluorescent lights humming faintly overhead as he parked the car. The clerk inside barely looked up from his magazine as Dean approached the counter.

“Seen her?” Dean asked, slapping a photo onto the counter. It was a candid shot, one Sam had taken months ago during a rare quiet moment between hunts. You were laughing at something Dean had said, your head tilted slightly, your hair catching the light. The clerk squinted at the photo, his chewing gum slowing as he considered it. “Maybe,” he drawled. “Couple days ago. Hitched a ride with a trucker headin’ north.” Dean’s jaw tightened. “You got anything more specific?” The guy shrugged.

“Didn’t catch where they were goin’. She looked like she was in a hurry, though.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath, snatching the photo back as he turned toward the door. Every lead was colder than the last, and with each dead end, the knot in his chest tightened. You weren’t making this easy, but he hadn’t expected you to.

Back in the Impala, he rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping in around the edges. He hated this—hated not knowing where you were, if you were okay, if you even wanted to be found. But none of that mattered. Not to him. Not when the thought of you out there alone, hurt and vulnerable, gnawed at him like a wound that wouldn’t heal. “Damn it,” he muttered, slamming his hand against the steering wheel.

A memory flashed, sharp and uninvited—your laugh filling the air during a rare quiet night on the road. You’d been teasing Sam about something, and the sound of it had made Dean smirk despite himself. Now, that laughter felt like a ghost, haunting the empty space you’d left behind.

With a heavy sigh, Dean started the car and pulled back onto the highway. He wasn’t giving up. Not yet.

Sam sat alone in the motel, the silence pressing down on him like a weight. Dean had been gone for two days now, chasing after you with the kind of determination Sam couldn’t bring himself to muster. His shoulder still ached from the hunt, the stitches pulling every time he moved, but that wasn’t what kept him up at night. It was you.

He stared at his phone, your single message still sitting there like a taunt. I’m safe. Don’t worry. Safe, sure. But the “don’t worry” part? That was impossible. Sam leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled slowly. The truth was, he wasn’t just worried about you. He was worried about himself—about the way Ruby’s presence lingered like a shadow in his mind, about the pull of her blood and the power it gave him. About the way he couldn’t seem to stop craving it, no matter how much he tried. You’d seen it, hadn’t you? Seen the cracks he’d been trying so hard to hide.

Maybe that’s why you’d left—not because of the hunt, not because of the fight, but because you couldn’t stand to watch him fall apart. His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. It wasn’t you. It was Ruby. Sam stared at the screen for a long moment, his chest tightening as the familiar rush of guilt and need washed over him. He didn’t answer. Not this time. But the doubt lingered, clawing at the edges of his resolve. And as the silence settled over the motel once more, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was too far gone to fix any of it.

Was he being pathetic? Yes. But he also had an idea of where you might have gone, and that at least gave him some comfort. It was better than thinking you were out there with no plan, no destination. That wasn’t like you. You always had a plan. Still, the idea of you being gone didn’t sit right. He thought, at some point, to go to you. That maybe if he apologized… or said something—anything—you’d come back.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix whatever it was that had pushed you to leave in the first place. He just didn’t know what to say. It was a lot emptier without you. The motel room was cramped and quiet, the kind of quiet that made the cheap wallpaper and sagging furniture feel like they were closing in. Dean had gone out for food—or maybe just to burn off his frustration somewhere else—and Sam was left alone, staring at the scattered papers on the table. It was their usual setup: lore books stacked high, scribbled notes, and a laptop balanced precariously on the edge of the bed. But it didn’t feel right. Not without you.

You always brought order to the chaos, sorting through the mess with a sharp eye and steady hands. Without you, it just felt like clutter. Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. The motel’s AC unit rattled faintly in the background, doing little to cut through the stale air. His phone sat on the table in front of him, the screen dark, but he couldn’t stop glancing at it. He thought about calling you again, even though he knew you wouldn’t pick up. He thought about texting, about saying something that might make you reconsider. But every time his fingers hovered over the keyboard, the words felt wrong.

Too little, too late. Instead, he’d scroll through the texts you’d sent before—all the quick updates, the late-night jokes, the “be careful” warnings that were more about you worrying than the hunt itself. It felt like a lifetime ago now, like they belonged to a different version of himself. One who hadn’t let things spiral so far out of control.

The truth was, he didn’t know how to fill the void you’d left behind. Sam ran a hand through his hair, staring at the phone again. He’d sent you one last text the night before, short and to the point: We’re still here. Wherever you are, just… stay safe. You hadn’t replied. He tried to tell himself that it was fine, that you needed space, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. He wanted to believe you were okay, that you’d find what you were looking for, but doubt crept in every time he closed his eyes. What if you weren’t okay? What if you were out there, hurt or worse, and he wasn’t there to help

The door creaked open, and Dean walked in, his boots heavy on the floor. He had a bag of takeout in one hand and a six-pack in the other, but his face was set in that hard, determined way that made Sam’s stomach knot. He dropped the food on the table and slumped onto the bed, his shoulders tight and his jaw clenched. “Anything?” Dean asked, his voice clipped. Sam shook his head.

“Nothing.” Dean let out a sharp exhale, dragging a hand down his face. "She's headed north" he pauses “Figures. She’s probably with Bobby.”

“Maybe,” Sam muttered, though he didn’t sound convincing. Dean glared at him, his frustration barely contained.

“You think I’m wrong?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know anything right now.” The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Dean cracked open a beer and took a long swig, his eyes fixed on the floor. For a while, neither of them said anything. Then Dean broke the silence

“She’s out there, Sam!” Dean snapped, slamming his bear on the table. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“And what do you want me to do, Dean?” Sam shot back, his voice sharper than usual. “I can barely move without ripping my stitches open. You think I can chase after her in this state?”

“That’s a damn good excuse, all you've been doing is mope around” Dean snarled. “You let her walk away. You just let her leave, Sam!”

Sam flinched at the accusation, his jaw tightening as he pushed himself up. “She didn’t leave because of me,” he said quietly, though the words felt hollow even as he spoke them.

“Bullshit,” Dean hissed, his voice low and cutting. “She left because you pushed her away. Because you’ve been too wrapped up in whatever the hell is going on with you and Ruby to notice anything else!”

Sam’s eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t deny it. "You think I don’t feel guilty?” Sam shot back, his voice raw. “You think I don’t lie awake wondering what I could’ve done differently? I know I screwed up, Dean.” Dean’s glare softened, but only slightly. “Then fix it,” he said, his tone low and firm. “Before she’s too far gone.”

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

You use to like the porch, use to come here a lot when you were younger. One night, after hours spent organizing Bobby’s shelves just to keep your hands busy, you found yourself sitting on it with a bottle of whiskey. The sky above was inky black, pinpricked with stars, the kind of night that would have felt endless and peaceful under different circumstances. But the quiet only made the storm in your head louder.

You stared at the bottle, your fingers curling around it tightly. “What the hell am I doing?” you muttered under your breath.

The answer didn’t come.

Instead, the memories crept in. Sam’s pale face, broken and bleeding on the bed. Dean’s shouts, frantic and sharp, cutting through the chaos like a blade. The weight of it all crushed you from the inside out, suffocating and relentless. Then there was Ruby, a name that hung in your mind like a noose, tightening with every passing second. And then this porch, it took you back to all those years ago, this was where you guys had met:

“We’re John’s boys,” Dean said simply, like you were supposed to know exactly what he was talking about.

“And?” You squinted at the pretty boy in a leather jacket, the sun high in the sky as you stood in the doorway. You were wearing something close to shorts and a flannel, a shotgun casually tucked under your arm.

“Look, sweetheart, we—”

“What my brother means,” the taller one interrupted smoothly, cutting Dean off before he could finish, “is that we’ve driven a long way, and we just want to talk to Bobby, if you don’t mind.” He smiled a polite, almost apologetic smile.

You glanced between them, your grip tightening on the shotgun as they lingered just outside the doorway.

“Names?”

“I’m Dean, and that’s Sammy—”

“Sam. Just Sam,” the taller one corrected, shooting a glance at his brother.

Your gaze shifted between them, taking in their clothes—well-worn boots, layers that were functional more than fashionable. You frowned. “You’re hunters?”

“The best,” Dean quipped, his tone dripping with self-assurance.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Aren’t you a little young?”

Dean’s smirk faltered for a second, replaced by a slight frown before he quickly composed himself. Beside him, Sam gave a small, polite smile.

“Thank you,” Sam said, his tone light, almost amused.

You tilted your head, considering them for a moment longer before stepping back slightly. “I’ll call him down,” you said, your voice firm. “But if you try anything, I’ll shoot you. Got me?”

“Loud and clear,” Sam replied calmly, his tone easy and steady.

Dean, however, looked a little annoyed, his jaw tightening as he glanced at his brother.

You stepped back inside, leaving the door open just enough to keep an eye on them as you turned to yell toward the stairs. “Bobby! You got visitors!”

That’s how you’d first met them. You’d been staying with Bobby for a while, helping out where you could, when they’d just showed up one day, and then again and again, until their appearances became less like interruptions and more like routine.

They had a way of pulling you in, those brothers. The kind of presence that made everything else seem smaller, quieter. Enough so that, one day, when they headed out, you’d gone with them. And you never came back.

That was a few years ago. A lot had changed since then.

You took a long swig from the bottle, the burn in your throat grounding you for a fleeting moment. But it didn’t stop the tears that welled up, hot and unrelenting.

“Shit,” you muttered, brushing them away roughly. You hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that you’d run, hated that even now, you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

The door creaked open behind you, and Bobby stepped out. His footsteps were heavy but unhurried, his presence as steady and solid as the creak of the porch under his weight. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the railing beside you. His sharp, knowing eyes seemed to cut through the dark.

For a long moment, the silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, Bobby broke it. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with cryin’, you know.”

You huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t fix anything.”

“No,” Bobby agreed, his tone gruff but not unkind. “But sometimes it helps you figure out what’s worth fixin’.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with truth. You didn’t respond, just stared at the bottle in your hands. That was a day or two ago, but the memory of it still burned in your chest, raw and unshakable.

Today, you’d just finished up on one of the trucks while Bobby insisted on cooking, though it hadn’t done much to settle the noise in your head.  You felt too embarrassed to meet Bobby’s eyes after that night on the porch, like your vulnerability had left a mark you couldn’t scrub away.

The house was quiet now, the faint sizzle of the scrapyard humming in the heat. You threw the towel over your shoulder and leaned against the hood of an old truck, letting out a deep breath.

The day had passed slowly, dragging on like it was trying to remind you of everything you weren’t ready to face. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Distance. Space. Time to figure out what the hell you were even doing.

And then you saw it.

Out of the corner of your eye, a figure shifted just beyond the tree line. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light—a shadow flickering in the heat. But the longer you stared, the more certain you became. Someone was there.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you wiped your hands on a rag and stepped away from the truck. “Bobby?” you called, your voice cutting through the stillness.

No response.

The figure moved closer, stepping into the clearing with a calm, deliberate stride. The sun glinted off dark hair, and as they drew nearer, your chest tightened. Sharp features came into focus, along with a confident smirk that sent a chill down your spine.

“Ruby?”

She stopped a few feet away, her gaze sweeping over you like she was sizing you up. Her smirk widened, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Long time no see.”

Your stomach twisted, and your grip tightened around the wrench in your hand. The cool steel felt like the only solid thing in a moment that threatened to unravel completely.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharp, almost shaking.

Ruby’s smile deepened, a dangerous edge to her expression. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in your little soul-searching trip.”

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

Dumm dummm daaa. (Please let me know if you guys are bored with this, because I know this one is not as fun as part 2)

Feedback is always welcome ;)

[strzxrin]

We need more moments leo and rowan !

These guys are incredible.

Just like you :)

-🦇

. . . take a look into my eyes, can’t you feel the tension !

in which . . . they show you for how long they’ve exactly pinned for you, and how much they want you.

cw. gn!reader, long time pining, edging, dumbification.

pairings . lèo jaccoud x gn!reader x rowan collins

demon x reader , angel x reader , roommates x reader , childhood best friends x reader

notes . that’s so nice of you, thank you!! but no bc i’m so surprised that people like these two a lot and i’m happy you want to know more about them !!

masterlist . character wiki

lèo jaccoud and rowan collins, your two best friends that you had grown up with, have always been so attentive to your needs. they would ensure that you’re alright, and were there for you in every moment of your life. they knew every single bit of you, and you knew every single thing about them.

at least that’s what you thought.

you thought you knew everything about the boys you grew up with, but considering how you were writhing underneath them, you don’t think so anymore.

soft pants escaped your lips as they pinned you down on the bed, lèo’s lips planting gentle kisses down your body, mapping his touch all over you whilst rowan marked your neck and teased your ears.

“a-angh! l-lèo..” you whimpered as the other muses at the sounds you were making. it was like a symphony for him, something that he wants to keep hearing over and over again.

how did you get up to this point?

well, it happened when you had came back home from a rather bad date, and you were tired and frustrated at everything. the both of them were at the couch when they heard your keys unlocking the door. did the both of them like the fact that you went on a date? no. they were going to take matters into their own hands later on.

lèo wanted to call out to you, to ask how it was, but then he saw your face and you were quick to leave to go to your room. your eyes was brimming with tears and something switched in both the men.

you plopped on your bed, hiding your face in the pillows as you tried to think exactly what happened. was it something about you? were you just that unlovable?

you hear your bedroom door knocking and you make a small noise. you didn’t want the both of them to see you sobbing, but at the same time, you can never really hide from them anyway. that’s how it’s always been.

the bed shifts, sinking a bit as the both of them sat down on either side of you. “you want to talk about it?” rowan asks softly, gently brushing your hair as you stay silent for a moment, hugging your pillow tighter. lèo and rowan glanced at each other before making it up in their minds to ensure that you are okay at all costs.

you don’t lift your head up and your voice was muffled by the pillow, but to the both of them, they can hear you clearly. “am i that unlovable?” they both pause at that question. what the hell happened for you to ask them that? lèo rubbed gentle circles on your back as rowan shook his head, even if you can’t see it.

“you’re incredibly loveable, ( name ). what prompted this question?” he asked softly as you sniffled and curled up even more. the sight made both of their hearts break. they never liked it when they saw you cry. if they could have it their way, they would keep you locked up in their shared house and never let you leave so that you would constantly be happy.

“not only did my date come two hours late,” you paused, almost hiccuping as you felt the frustration of it all at the situation. “he came in with someone else in his arms, as if he had forgotten we were supposed to meet up.” you continued.

the two of them stayed silent and there was a bubbling anger simmering in both of them when they listened to you. how dare that man do that to you, humiliate you like that? lèo gently kissed your head and looked at you, even as your face was hidden in the pillows.

“forget about him. he doesn’t deserve you. you deserve so much better, with people who actually care about you.”

“people like us,” rowan then continued as lèo nodded. suddenly you felt like all the frustration and hurt you were feeling left, all because of rowan’s words. you looked up, finally showing your face to them as you were obviously confused.

“what do you mean?”

“you’re rather oblivious when it comes to the people who actually like you, ( name )” rowan sighs as lèo smiles sheepishly but nodded along with the other. you had to take a moment to process, and put two and two together before realising what they meant.

“you two.. like me?”

“more than like, mon amour,”

and that’s how you ended up here. they had given a talk, a confession to how long they’ve loved you and how they both would have treated you far better than anyone else. they wanted to prove it, but of course, everything is done with your consent. they would never force you into doing something you didn’t like.

so when you accepted, you only gave them the condition to be slow and gentle. you were going to regret it since it’s been hours and you haven’t cummed once.

they gave you fleeting touches and would tease your erogenous zones over and over again. your toes would curl and your back would be arched but you wouldn’t get the release that you craved.

“p-please.. oh please..!” you begged out, your mouth leaking with drool as you just wanted to cum so badly. and you swore that you could see a sick look in their eyes at your state.

“please what, darling?”

“let me cum! please.. oh fuck i wanna cum so bad” you gasped out as rowan pinched your nipples at the same time when lèo hits your sensitive spot. “yeah?” lèo muses, watching as you writhe underneath the both of them.

“you can last a little longer than that, mon amour..”

“after all, every one hour is every year we kept our emotions at bay to not overwhelm you”

you realised it now, the hours on edging was the years that they’ve liked you for, and you know for a fact that you’ll be dumbed out by the time that this is over.

“m’sorry!! please m’sorry for not realising your feelings— angh!!” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes as rowan kissed them away. “we know, darling.. that’s why you can take just a couple more hours left”

“and after that, you can cum just as many times as you want.”

[redhelmetguy]

I kinda sorta really like Jason Todd guys

The text I stole from AM’s speech from I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream (it’s a short story so you should def read it but the speech I took from is actually from the game which you should also play)

As an American I’m just going to cope by drawing my favorite sillies and pretend like this country is burning from the inside out :)

If Jason Todd was here he’d assassinate those people trust 🙏

But It’s kinda funny how tthis whole situation has inspired me to start working out from spite of the elderly man with a poorly done spray tan. It’s also one step closer to my plan of becoming Jason Todd irl. Next I should work on the crime lord stuff.

Jasons story and stuff makes me so sad. And it makes me even sadder how badly DC fucks up his character. He has SO MUCH POTENTIAL but nooo they can’t use it for SHIT

Also ngl he had a reasonable crash out. Minus like a few things like the Titans Tower but I have a deep hatred for that comic so I ignore it :) in my canon, it does not exist.

Sigh. I’m so tired of everything. I hope you guys have a good rest of your day :>

[0zingt0n]

Oc has been created! (Still a work in progress, with the lore and coloring and such, but these are all the doodles I have—I’m just like way too excited to wait to post them💔)

This is Ellys (El-iss) Belmont! Most of their info I have to share is in the drawing…so here’s some details!

• Ellys is a newcomer, and goes by the stage name “Blue Lightning”

• You can’t tell because there’s no color, but they’re supposed to have a blue streak in the middle of their bangs that goes all the way down their hair

• Their attire is all blue (guess what their favorite color is), and there are lines on the sides of their tank top that connect to lines on the sides of their shorts…it makes a lightning bolt (you understand where the name came from now?)

• Ellys trains with their twin brother, who is the reason they box…

BOOM HE’S HERE TOO!!

Introducing Myles Belmont, Ellys’ twin brother! (“hey…twins in boxing..?” I know…so unoriginal…but there’s a twist!)

• Myles was originally supposed to be a boxer, but before his first match, he got performance anxiety and got sick, desperately begging Ellys to take his place

• Myles is the confident and extroverted twin (which made it surprising to Ellys that he chickened out before his fight), contrasting with Ellys’ naturally calm, self-reserved, and introverted personality

• Myles and Ellys get along really well! When they changed their names during their transitions, they wanted to match in a way (both names replace i’s with y’s)

• After Ellys won the fight as Myles’ sub, Myles was blown away with their skill. He tried to convince Ellys to keep boxing in his place. Ellys worried about revealing they weren’t actually Myles—because they were afraid that the WVBA wouldn’t allow a nonbinary boxer to fight the male boxers (turns out the rules are pretty loose, though…)—so they continued to fight under this “alter ego”

• Another one of their worries was that the audience wouldn’t like Ellys over Myles. Ellys had to put on a show to be their loud and outgoing brother, which was…kind of freeing. Ellys feared that if they went out there as themself, the fans would think they were weird. And strange. And awkward. And—

• While this charade was going on, the twins concocted a plan! Ellys would cut their hair shorter to look like Myles, and Myles would add a blue streak in his hair to look like Ellys (a fair trade, since they both loved their own hairstyles).

• Ellys would fight in the ring as Myles, while during interviews, Myles would just be himself! Ellys was too afraid to be on camera and mess up…but apparently Myles was just fine (oh. he must ENJOY the attention…even though he got sick due to stagefright…<hey it’s different okay? you don’t have to fight the guy interviewing you.>)

• The plan works well, aside from one crucial detail that obsessed reporters point out. Blue Lightning in the ring has a tooth gap, but not during interviews…what can this mean?

At some point, Ellys is tired of pretending to be Myles because they don’t want to pretend to be someone they’re not, and they’re afraid of getting caught and getting in trouble.

And also because Myles takes credit for everything during the interviews. Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem seeing as they look to be the same person, but deep down, Ellys wishes that was them in his place. They get into arguments over this, until finally one day Ellys impulsively reveals their identity. (Today is NOT that day, though!)

I stayed up until 2am drawing all of these. I had SO many ideas welling up inside of me…I’m glad I’m spilling them all finally😭

Anywho! If you want to ask any questions about them, feel free to send me some!! I’d love to annsswweerrr theeeemmmm!!!!!