#id want to bully her too.

[camelspit]

some of yall werent around for the garwin era and it shows

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[waheedawolf]

.

[intomybubble]

Basically my thoughts about Juujika no Rokunin

[usedpidemo]

Savior (aespa Karina)

“Someone help me. Please!”

“Scream as loud as you can, no one’s coming to save you, princess.”

“That’s right. So just be a good girl and give us your money.”

“Help!”

It’s at this point where, against your better judgment, you stop dead in your tracks. The damsel in distress’s right behind you, backed into a corner by two bullies. Her possessions are strewn all over the floor, purposefully kicked out of her reach. There hasn’t been much physical harm done to the girl, but she looks to be the delicate type—someone who’s bound to crumble and break after a few hits.

Looking over your shoulder, the two students spot you and turn their attention against you immediately, recognizing you as a threat. “Hey,” says the first student, stepping forward to intimidate you with his burly physique. “This has nothing to do with you. Run along if you don’t want to join this loser over here.”

“Yeah. Don’t go around acting tough just cause you got two other guys with you. Just keep it pushing,” says the second thug, lankier in figure, in agreement with his partner.

Standing your ground, you steel your resolve, having no intention to run. In fact, it’s the complete opposite: you’re down for a fight. Your two companions also follow suit.

“So you wanna be a hero? You’re gonna regret it,” the first bully says, cracking his fists, ready to swing. “Oh, you’re so gonna regret it!”

That is to say, he’s the one who’s about to regret his life choices.

Like a raging bull, the thug lunges toward you, only for you to swiftly kick his legs from underneath, sending him flying across the hallway before he violently lands head first on the ground, most certainly giving him a concussion. He’s done.

The second bully tries to throw a follow-up punch, but you stop its momentum with one hand. Twisting it sideways, the bones crack loud, immediately followed by a screech of pain from his lungs. He drops to the floor in agony, holding his bent knuckle with his healthy arm.

“Oh—oh God—oh fuck—fuck—” Tears flowing from his eyes, he grovels in extreme discomfort, unable to stand before you. “What are you—”

“Now run,” you order, and he promptly complies, hopping off the ground, then fleeing in the opposite direction.

All that’s left is the girl. She had been watching the entire time. She’s overjoyed.

“Y-you saved me,” she says, tone relieved and her spirits held high. “How can I thank you—”

“Don’t push it,” you tell her, already walking away with your companions, waving her off. You don’t help her as she gathers her belongings. “Don’t get yourself in danger next time.”

Part of you already has second thoughts saving this girl. Jimin, the name written on her ID, is undeniably pretty, but you have nothing to gain from this encounter—or from her. She’s only studying in this university on a scholarship, and it shows in her appearance: she’s not the cleanest, nor is as well dressed as everyone else on campus. At best, you’ll probably get called into the office regarding this incident, as well as getting another target placed on your back by those bullies.

None of which are worth a drop of your concern. You can study anywhere else; you have the resources and the connections courtesy of your rich family, and the two companions by your side are your trusted bodyguards that have been with you since childhood. You can honestly live out your whole life without even lifting a finger. Generational wealth is the ultimate lifehack.

And yet, you’re in college at the behest of your parents, who spend more time abroad than at home. This is you going through the motions, looking after yourself.

After the next class, right as everyone’s packing their things and exiting, you spot her again. Jimin’s natural beauty is a lovely sight for the eyes. It’s only now do you realize you’ve shared at least one class with her. Maybe more; you’re too oblivious to the world around you to really notice. You only care about the bell that rings at the top of the hour so you can finally go home.

“Hey,” Jimin suddenly calls out to you, having noticed you glancing at her every now and then. You attempt to feign ignorance, but she approaches you and seizes your hand, catching you red-handed. “Can I speak to you, please?”

She sounds too nice to turn away. You’d be in the wrong to ignore her.

Still, you won’t fully look at her, the glint in her eyes blinding. You can only pray this is a brief exchange. “Sure. But make it quick.”

“I just want to say thank you—for earlier,” she says, her voice warm and sincere. She’s shaking your hand in appreciation; you allow her. “I’m not as rich as everyone else here, as you can see.” She looks down at her modest wear, apologetic about her appearance for some reason, “So—I don’t really have much. I’m only here on a scholarship—”

“Right.” You interrupt her, trying your hardest not to sound annoyed or bothered, though some of that impatience permeates through your filter. “Anything else you wanna say?”

Jimin becomes flustered, seemingly aroused by your low voice. A brief glance reveals her cheeks flushed red, her body trembling anxiously. She can’t have her way with words, either. “S-sorry. I just wanna say if you need help with schoolwork or anything, my services are available! My grades are good, I promise! That’s all. Again, thanks and see you around!”

Before you can even say a word or call her name, she already has one foot out the door, along with her belongings.

—————

One look at the student database proves her point: Yu Jimin, nickname Karina, might be what she advertised: an academic genius.

Her grades are mostly in the mid nineties across the board, if not low nineties. She’s only a year away from graduating—alongside you. The offer lingers on your mind, positively tempting.

“Sir, this just seems like a waste of money,” your one bodyguard turned hacker tells you, swiveling his desk chair around to face you. “There are more reputable tutors with better qualifications we can fly in from across the country if you really need a personal tutor. Also, your grades are good as they are. You don’t seem to be struggling with any specific major or subject right now. There’s no reason for this.”

“Yeah, and whose money are we spending?” you reply, annoyed at his admittedly sensible comment. 

“What will your family say about this?”

“Did I ask to be enrolled in this university? This course? Besides, they’ve never shown up for any of my graduations! I doubt this will be any different in a year or so. Go find her number so I can contact her.”

Sighing in defeat, he eventually acquiesces. They have to. “Of course, sir.”

—————

The next day on campus, Karina’s seated at the dining hall with her friends. Her eyes can only focus on one thing, or in this case, one man: the person that saved her yesterday. 

“You’re serious? Him?” Ningning looks concerned about her friend. She’s glaring at him with plenty of skepticism. They all know who he is. Not Karina, though. “That guy’s no good at all.”

“What are you saying?” she looks at her, puzzled at her comment. “He really did save me from those bullies. Don’t you believe me?”

“Yeah, but like—he’s not a good person!” Giselle frowns at the man, hiding the bottom half of her face behind her hands. “He’s a chaebol kid. He’s seriously no good! I’ve heard he gets into fights often; that's why he has bodyguards to intimidate anyone who tries to oppose him.”

“Rumor says he’s in cahoots with some crime syndicate—or at least his dad is,” Minjeong interjects, more trepid than anything. “That’s how he got his money. Who knows what kind of evil they might be doing!”

“But he was nice to me yesterday! If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have tried to save me, you know?” Karina stubbornly pays no heed, insisting her case to them, despite their growing frustration and fright. “You guys are overthinking this way too much.”

“It’s just so he can gaslight you into believing he’s a good guy. Please, Karina, he’s not what you think he is.” Ningning implores for her to listen, but to no avail.

“We’re not saying he’s truly bad, but there are signs,” Minjeong adds, agreeing with Ningning. “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Look—if he’s actually a bad guy, I’m running, all right? I’m ditching him right then and there, no questions asked.” Karina reassures them, hoping to calm them down right as the man approaches their table. “He’s coming right now.”

While the others silently avoid any form of contact or communication with you, hiding their not so subtle disdain, she happily waves. “Hi. Did you think about it?”

“Yeah,” you tell her, nodding. “I’m interested.”

“Really?” Karina’s eyes gleam at the opportunity. “What do you need help with?”

“Lots. I’ll tell you after class.” Knowing her friends are evidently uncomfortable with your presence, you simply walk past her and through the cafeteria door. “See you around.”

“Bye!” she waves at you again, delighted that you’ve taken up on her offer.

When it’s clear that you’re no longer in sight, Karina’s friends turn to her in utter disbelief.

“Please tell me you’re not going to—”

“I will.”

“Oh, God dammit.”

“Karina, please.”

—————

Later that day, Karina’s waiting by the campus parking lot, holding on to the promise of you showing up. It’s been almost an hour since classes ended and there’s no sign of you anywhere nearby. It looks like you’ll leave her out to dry, until—

“Miss Karina.” A man calls out to her from inside a luxurious car. As the windows roll down, she recognizes the driver as one of your companions. One of the rear doors automatically swings open. “Please step inside.”

Without a second thought, she enters the vehicle before it drives away.  

During the ride, the bodyguard asks her a question. “Does Miss Yu have a drink preference?”

She’s slowly taking it all in, flustered at how you’re treating her so generously. It’s overwhelming at times. “N-no. I’m not really a drinker. W-where’s—”

“He has already gone ahead. He’s preparing the house ahead of your arrival. When we get there, you will change clothes before meeting him. At his request, I have been assigned as your personal assistant and driver.”

“Y-you? Assistant?” She can hardly believe it. “Wow…”

Karina is rendered speechless for the rest of the ride. She’s taken aback at her sudden change in predicament. It’s a Cinderella story through and through. The only missing element is some antagonistic force threatening to end this fantasy abruptly, but that’s the least of her worries. What’s more concerning is how she’ll compose herself before you.

Especially when she sees the scale of your house upon arriving. She’s never seen wealth this exceedingly open and grand.

There’s no time to admire the opulence, however. She’s brought inside hastily by your bodyguard. Inside, a team of stylists are waiting, rushing her upstairs and into one of the bedrooms for a complete overhaul. They’re careful to measure her hair, her size, her everything. Everything is done on the spot, with next to nothing in terms of personal input from Karina herself.

—————

You hear it. The gentle, careful steps of heels clicking. Karina’s ready. So are you.

Turning around to welcome her, you’ve got this whole speech practiced and memorized, with a card hidden in your pocket for good measure. Instead, you end up tongue tied; her presence proves overwhelming to the senses. You can only stare in awe. All black dress and matching heels aside, she looks like an angel descended from heaven. Without blemish, without any sort of imperfection. She’s unreal. 

Any less of a person you are and you would have fallen to your knees on the spot, groveling on the ground when Karina walks forward, ignoring how nervous she is as you. She modestly smiles, carefully twiddling her fingers. She doesn’t recognize how pretty she is.

It becomes all the more embarrassing when Karina makes the first move. “I knew you were rich, but not this rich.” Her eyes are glancing around the expansive room, admiring all the little details, thankfully dismissing how speechless you are.

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to blurt out, unsure of what to say. In her sight, you’re her hero, her knight in shining armor that can seemingly do no wrong. Meanwhile, you’re overcompensating your lack of social skills by hiding behind a shallow enigma and as much vanity as possible. “Not exactly my money, to be fair. My parents raised me like this.”

You’re trying not to look anywhere in her direction—whether that be her pretty eyes, her warm smile, or her shapely figure in that body-hugging dress. It’s the only way you can function normally without completely falling apart.

“So—you’re gonna introduce me to them?” she asks, her tone saccharine and innocent. 

“I wish,” you reply, sighing wistfully thinking about their absence throughout most of your formative years. She’s unaware; you’ll let the insensitive question slide. Only for her. So you immediately change the topic. “Let’s go outside. Our dinner is waiting for us.”

You reach out your hand to her, and she takes it without hesitation. In your mind, you’re already jumping around, performing cartwheels in celebration, with fireworks blasting everywhere. For the most part, you’ve been punching up, failing to impress girls unimpressed with your wealth and are far beyond your reach. Everyone else in that campus would kill to be in Karina’s position right now, but something about her caught your eye that no one has. 

The purity in this girl’s heart is something else. 

Outside, a table full of hearty food is set before you two, a candle lit at its center. Sitting her down on one end before joining her at the other, it’s only background dressing for conversation. She refuses to eat, struggling to make sense of all this. The appeal behind all this luxury is wearing off at an alarming rate.

“What’s up? Not hungry?” you gently ask, already making predictions of her answer. Your designated assistant for her is on standby for anything she wants.

“Not really,” she says, her eyes staring back, wide, accompanied with her innocuous smile. A direct attack on your heart. “I’m—here for tutoring first. I don’t know what this is all for.”

“Yeah. You are here to help me,” you tell her, your mind racing with a hundred different thoughts, already in a state of panic. “I’m just—” you swallow a sudden lump in your throat, “welcoming you since it’s your first time visiting.”

“Like, I think this is really cool! I appreciate what you’re doing, but I can’t afford any of this.” Karina’s trying not to put any more pressure on you, but it’s really doing the exact opposite: you’re already seeing signs of a terrible end. “I just thought you were nice because you saved me from those bullies, you know? That’s it.”

“Yeah. I know,” you reply, looking down as the awkward air between you grows larger and larger. See, she has a point: it was never about asking for help, nor was it ever about improving your grades. It was always about her. Something changed overnight. You simply don’t know how to directly convey those feelings. 

“So—let’s just keep things between us simple,” Karina proposes. She rises from her seat, walking over with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m here to help you with whatever project, research, whatever—you only have to pay for my services. Is that good enough?”

“Wait. Karina let me ask one thing,” you say, finally mustering the courage to look her directly in the eye. 

“What is it?”

“Your friends,” you rapidly blink, “What did they say about me?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you that.” Her answer is delivered bluntly, straight to the point.

“They think I’m a bad guy, right?”

“N-no,” Karina stammers. That’s where you catch her. “They never said anything like that—”

Suddenly dragging her by the arm down to your level, you whisper in her ear, “Don’t have to lie, princess. I’m not gonna tell anyone. It’s only between us. Promise.”

Karina’s unsure of what to do. She’s quietly keening, lightly sweating, looking around for an out. The points her friends made are starting to make sense, but there’s nothing substantial—not yet.

After taking a moment, she folds. “They think your dad’s working with a syndicate. That’s it! There’s nothing else—”

You lightly shove her away, immediately concealing your face in the opposite direction. You didn’t expect her to catch on quickly. Karina’s utterly shocked by what you just did to her, cupping her cheek.

Empathy overrides every other thought.

“Sorry. I just—” You immediately approach her with a handkerchief, immediately assessing the damages, what little they might be. Karina takes a step back, trembling with fear.

“So, it’s true after all.” Her eyes widen. Gone is that sweet innocence; taking its place is a heightened sense of panic. “You’re really a bad guy—”

“Wait, Karina.” You raise a delicate hand, your voice as calm and little as possible. “Please give me a moment to explain.”

“Go on,” she says, cautiously wary, readying herself to run at any given moment. “But say it quickly,”

Stretching your body out to pursue her, examining her every move, every muscle. It didn’t have to end up like this. Surely, there are safer, more inconsequential ways to explain yourself. What a first date you’ve gotten into.

“It’s—not exactly what you think,” you tell her. Out of all the things to begin your justification, you’ve picked the worst possible choice.

“Really?” Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t buy it. “What’s with the reaction, then?”

Hesitating, you’re scrambling to find a believable reason, only to find just one option: the truth. “I—well—your friends are right, but—my dad doesn’t have anything to do with criminals!”

“So it’s you who’s dealing with them?” she replies, her brows furrowing, glaring at you.

“It’s nothing really serious, though. And I’m not involved with anything either! Believe me, I’m not going to get you hurt!”

Throughout this tense exchange, you’ve both made your way back to the house, one big step at a time.

“Trust me when I say: the only reason why I helped you was because I didn’t want to see you hurt,” you continue, your voice cracking. “Goddamn it—this is why I shouldn’t have stepped in, fuck—”

“You did that because—” she pauses, “you cared about me? For real?”

“I guess so,” you say, nodding vehemently, both your hands still raised high starting to ache. “I don’t do that for anyone! My bodyguards tell me to ignore what’s happening, but I just can’t stand someone as pretty as you getting hurt like that.”

“Y-you think I’m pretty?” Karina blinks, coming out twinkling and doe-eyed at the sudden revelation.

Secret’s out. There’s nothing to hide anymore.

Pausing, you admit, nodding much less energetically, silently cursing yourself spilling your innermost thoughts so casually, “Well, yes. I think you’re beautiful. All the more now.”

Karina stops moving. Her wariness is turning back to more open and willing caution. “So—this was really all for me.”

You continue to nod, this time in agreement. She still has so many questions. About you, your family, your income, your secret dealings. Clearly, her friends are onto something, whether by luck or by some past experience; not a hundred percent, but at least five to ten. It would be rash and irrational to completely trust every word you’ve said. No amount of kindness can possibly make up for the worry you’ve given her—

“Come here,” she says, lunging forward to wrap you in a sudden, tight embrace. Before you can comprehend anything else, her lips are pressed deeply against yours, sealing your fate with a passionate kiss. 

That’s where it should have stopped. A better person would have pushed her away, taken things slowly, spoken her through the terms of engagement. Even Karina said it herself; this is a transactional relationship. But seeing as you’re taking lease of her back, as well as her waist, tasting her saccharine lips—it appears as if she’s reneged on her word. 

You feel her tongue slip between your mouth, humming these incomprehensible delightful sounds your ears want to hear. It isn’t accidental; the taste takes you by surprise. Can’t show a little weakness, even if you’re close to buckling under the rapid growing pressure. The way she pours herself into the kiss, how she pushes you closer inch by inch—you can tell she’s wanted this. To be treated like a princess, to be treated right. It doesn’t matter if it’s coming from the wrong influence, the only thing she sees is your willingness to take her with open arms.

The only thing pulling you away from her is the ceaseless ringing from a phone.

Karina pulls a phone from her skirt pocket, her eyes tilting down, fingers moving with urgency, furiously typing on the screen. Her cheeks burn a rosy red, ashamed of having to put herself first in this situation. She’s smiling innocently at you, a sight you’ve grown to love even more. You understand if she tells you she’s leaving; you’ve already got her ride home on standby.

“Sorry,” she mutters, pressing buttons, hearing the ringer beep as the message is sent. “I’m still living with my parents, so—” Looking around, she’s shaking her arms loose. “I don’t think I can spend the night here, or come home looking like this—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut her off, confident, if not a little smug. “Neither of those things are gonna happen. I’ll get your ride ready and your clothes taken care of. But it’s still a little bit early,” you say, glancing at your watch, grinning at the time. It’s barely past seven in the evening. 

“I told them I’d be home by around ten tonight,” she remarks, putting her phone away, her gaze returning to you.

“That’s all the time we need.”

—————

Like the gentleman she thinks you are, you escort Karina up the stairs, hand in tow, leading her to your bedroom. Once the door is slammed shut and tightly locked, you immediately drop the act, and you’re back to kissing her passionately again.

You can’t be any less patient. Only a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dreading the end. The feeling of letting her go, of having to go back to your normal life the moment she walks through that door. You can’t imagine interacting like normal students again. Most importantly, you can’t imagine being the bad guy in everyone else’s eyes.

Karina brings out both the best and worst impulses from you. Abruptly breaking the kiss, you shove her onto the mattress, issuing a simple command. “Take that dress off.”

It’s been the only thing racing through your mind ever since. This divine, angelic figure straight out of heaven—effortlessly shining, effortlessly wearing the simple piece like she’s meant to be a canvas to be painted and used.

Gracefully rising from the bed, Karina looks you dead in the eye. Taking one strap in her hand, she pulls it down her shoulder, then the other. Reaching around her back, gravity does the rest. The garment smoothly rides down her body, revealing inch after inch of her skin, until she’s reduced to only her panties. 

Kicking the expensive fabric aside, along with her heels, Karina’s near naked presence demands worship.

“Fuck,” is the only thing you’re able to say, and it’s apt—fuck is the only thing you want to do to her. Hard. Fast. Without care for comfort or concern. 

Your eyes have no fixed area to rest on. When it comes to Karina, every little part of her is a treat for the senses, whether it be her slim waist, her tummy, her slender legs. But nothing captures and retains the attention quicker than her well-endowed breasts. So huge, so pliable, you can only wonder in amazement at how she’s been able to keep them secret for the longest time.

“Something wrong?” Karina asks, snapping you from your mindless daze, her tiny voice a contrast to the sheer sexiness she’s radiating just by standing there in the nude. God, she’s so blissfully unaware that you’re oh so obviously focused on her tits only; it’s endearing and sweet.

“Nothing. You’re perfect, actually.” Try as you might, you can only linger on her chest, watching them stare back, inviting you to come closer. Her nipples are taut and rigid, ripe for the taking.

The comment makes her face blush brighter. “Thank you.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, your pants already halfway down, shedding them along with your boxers. You’re imagining how they would feel sandwiched between your cock; you can’t help it. You’re stroking yourself to hardness, made substantially easier thanks to the image before you. “Has anyone told you you have perfect tits, Karina?”

“I’ve heard it here and there,” she says, delivered so casually, like it’s something she hears everyday—as she rightfully should. “I guess people sometimes notice through my baggy clothing.”

Pumping your shaft till you’re fully erect, you rid yourself of the rest of your clothes. Button up shirt and coat thrown away carelessly and readily forgotten. Karina takes the hint and slips off her panties, putting you both on equal footing. Creeping toward her, you press your finger on her chin, nuzzling your forehead against hers, setting the mood with a quick peck of her lips. There’s so much you want to do, visualizing all the possibilities with a body like hers.

“I want to touch you,” you tell her, tone low, sultry. Your hand traces down her collarbones, pointing out where they want to be: on her chest. 

“Go. Anything you want, but promise me one thing,” she replies, mimicking your inflection. Any request sounds so much hotter in her voice.

There’s zero hesitation. “Anything.”

“Promise you’ll pour all that cum deep inside me. I’ve been in relationships before. Just—give me a good fucking.”

“I will,” you say, kissing her passionately on the lips, your hands firmly pressed on her tits, watching Karina’s eyes close and open in slow motion. Going down, you leave kisses on her neck, collarbones, before reaching your intended destination: her chest. Burying yourself between her breasts, clamping down on her rigid nipple, forcing a sharp cry out of Karina’s saccharine lips. “I love these fucking tits, Karina. I love them so—so—much.”

“Please.” She coos up to the ceiling, grabbing you by the hair, pressing you further into them, intending to suffocate you—which is a demise you’ll happily go out on. Gasping, panting, struggling to keep herself steady, you both collapse onto the bed, allowing you to fully drink in her breasts. Darting your tongue, sucking on her stiff tits, sloppily leaving wet marks on her otherwise porcelain skin. “So—fucking—needy—”

Karina’s right. You’ve got her pinned down on the sheets like she’s prey, devouring her like a hungry animal. Giving her tits equal attention, going back and forth til you’re satisfied—which will never happen. Not with breasts as delicious as hers. Muffled by her bosom, you can only grunt and groan in appreciation, forgoing your ability to speak to keep satiating your unquenchable need. You love how her skin folds, how they crush in your hands. Squeezing them like your personalized stress balls, making her squeamish and erratic underneath you.

Meanwhile, she can only stick her head out, keening and mewling helplessly as you drown yourself in the heat of her breasts, without care for her personal comfort or yours. 

It’s always been part of you—greed. It’s what you were raised on. How you selfishly desire something and will stop at nothing until it’s in your grasp, no matter how little it has in value or how many resources are wasted. Not Karina. She’s one in a million—a diamond in the rough. A treasure worth cherishing over everything else, and you’d give up everything for her without a second thought.

Kissing down her rather tiny figure, her tummy, until you reach the depths of her aching core, already in heat. Looking up at her, so wrecked, so utterly incapacitated, you sink further—and she cries out in pain and in pleasure.

Propping her thighs up in the air, spreading her legs that extra inch wider, Karina cries, cries, and cries. Your tongue sucks away at her sticky nectar, her quivering core, putting immense pressure on her most sensitive spots. Soaking up just how wet she becomes with each passing second, you’ll happily drown in her skin. You love how she clenches, how she throbs and moans a pitch higher with every pass, every lap of your tip against her pussy brings her ever closer to her end.

Had it been anyone else, you would have finished right there. Make them unwind and cum all over your face as you indulge yourself with their juices, then leave them out to dry right after. Instead, you muster up the willpower to restrain yourself, reemerging from the depths of her cunt, before kissing up the path you’ve marked along. You can never grow tired of admiring and worshipping Karina’s breasts. 

Brushing loose strands of hair aside to get a look at her pretty face, glowing brilliantly even under duress. Whispering against her ear, you tell her, “Gonna fuck you right now.”

“Do it,” she says, breathless, gasping—and heaving—for air. “Please give it all to me.”

“Always.”

Slowly dragging your cock between her folds, your usually stiff expression gradually disintegrates upon vicious entry, unable to endure how tight she feels. The pulse and flex of her walls pulls you apart in every direction, her cunt threatening to snap you with one wrong move. Every little bit of resolve counts. Your fingers intertwine with hers, holding her down in place, even though she’s nowhere close to fighting back. In fact, it’s the exact opposite; she wants to be taken and used.

The cry of your name escapes from Karina’s lips, delivered like a call for help. A plea. It bounces around the room, echoing repeatedly in your head, the imagery instantly seared into your brain. 

“You fill me so fucking well,” she says, breath hot and heavy, her jaw agape as you hover atop her head. Her eyes snap wide open, on the verge of tears, “Does my pussy feel good? Does it feel so tight around you?”

You’re struggling to keep yourself together, showing signs of falling apart. You’re breathing heavily, only nodding back in agreement. The inability to move your body, desiring to stay inside her warmth out of fear it’ll prematurely ruin the moment speaks volumes. It’s a clearer response than any word can ever answer. 

Karina lightly rolls her hips forward, the friction far too great to remain still. You can only draw back in painstakingly slow motion, as if pulling a piece out of a collapsible tower. Even so, the feeling leaves you dizzy and lightheaded, the suffocating sensation quickly overwhelming the rest of your functional senses.

This little push is more than enough to set you snowballing further down. Thrusting back inside her heat, her fresh wetness allows you an easier passage in and out of her quivering pussy. Between calculated, deep breaths, you watch Karina take every inch of your cock without any resistance, letting these profanities and praises slip from her lips instinctively, punctuated by the growing echo of your skin slapping skin.

It becomes effortless rather quickly. The slide in and out of her heat. The pace more than enough to let all the ecstasy sink in. How she immediately relinquishes any semblance of control to you. Karina’s glued to the bed by your hands, her body rocking with every stroke, her tits jiggling in a hypnotic rhythm that captures your eyes. So perfect. So right. 

Unknowingly, she’s driving you mad. A little bounce isn’t gonna satiate you at this point. One poorly timed blink and you’ll be punishing yourself for it. There’s no going back. You needed more of her. 

As the bed violently creaks below, so does Karina’s tiny figure. As quickly as you’ve found the perfect rhythm to pound her, you just as quickly abandon it. Something about her brings out the best and worst in you, and you clearly see why. It’s the bounce—that damned ripple of her breasts, swinging up and down forcing your hips harder against her, threatening to break her. Her words turn to loud cries—of pleasure, of pain, and everything else in between. 

“More—oh, baby, please—” she keens, her eyes still completely shut, her lips twisting and contorting, struggling to find her words. Freely offering herself to you no strings attached, she takes it—and takes it all. “Harder—I’m so fucking close—please—”

It’s a request you’re more than eager to oblige.

Taking purchase of her back with one hand, lifting her slightly, and grabbing her breast with the other, you’re hammering away at her hot cunt, gasping. Squeezing her flesh, hearing her whine, turning her usually pale flesh red while her arms find solace on your shoulder—anything to keep your rapidly dwindling resolve from dissolving entirely. The end is imminent; you can only delay it by mere moments, minutes at best. 

Karina is so dangerously close, as she said—and as much as you hate to admit, so are you. 

It’s a race that you don’t want to win. As much as you want to keep it together for longer, your body says otherwise. You can’t stop fucking her, no matter how hard you wish to try—and even if you did, why would you even contemplate the idea; your thoughts mostly comprise of how incredibly good she feels around your cock, how they pulsate and grip you with every thrust. Moving inside her is second nature at this point. You eventually lay her back down, only so she takes every inch of you when it eventually happens.

“Don’t stop—don’t ever stop—” she pleads, as if your own mind wasn’t enough to invalidate the idea. Her nails cling to your scalp and neck, barely hanging on for dear life. She’s trembling, uncontrollably jerking beneath. Even she herself doesn’t want it to end. “So good—oh God—”

A handful of thrusts later, Karina cums, with your cock buried in the crevice of her cunt. 

Once again, her voice shoots up to the sky upon impact, screaming your name, her head tilted far back as the sheets allow her to. Jaw widely slack, her neck and collarbone exposed, she can’t stop trembling through her climax. Writhing in your grasp, she lets out a prolonged moan till her vocal cords flame out, her chest heaving for much needed oxygen. 

It doesn’t stop you from pounding into her pussy, even as it overflows with her slickness. If anything, it only accelerates your own demise. The wetness overload coating your cock proves to be overbearing for what little spunk you have left. 

“Me too, Karina—” you blurt out, hammering into her, gasping, bracing for impact as well. “I’m gonna—oh fuck—”

Your own peak overtakes you, rendering you speechless. Everything comes to a standstill. All you can do is bury yourself inside the absolute depths of her pussy, make her take every load, every drop. 

Filling the air with a harmonious moan as it hits you, your cock throbbing achingly, full of all that repressed need, and then—release. 

Spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum you pour into her womb, not wasting a single drop. Karina cries and moans with every shot, while you can only groan a deep groan from your lungs. She takes it up, milking you of all your worth till you can’t anymore. Even as she drains you empty, you can’t stop pounding into her cunt, slowing your movements back to a grinded out pace till your orgasm dies, and so does your strength.

“That’s it—that’s all I needed—so, so good—”

Karina sighs, her fingers digging deep into your neck, dragging them across your shoulders, then sliding down your arms right after. She can barely open her eyes, only to find you slowly crashing into her, leaning your head to the side so you can rest beside her. Even your hips stop moving. You only have enough energy to wrap an arm around her tiny frame before you finally collapse under your own weight.

“You still have to take me home,” she whispers, mindful of your ear directly next to her, delivered in that oh so saccharine tone. 

“I know,” you mutter through the sheets, eliciting a gentle chuckle from her. Karina’s the one coming out of this in a better state. 

“Can you do something for me? Please?” 

She didn’t need to say the word, but it certainly helps her case tenfold.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need you to drive me home.” Karina dips her head at an angle to face you. “Not your bodyguards. You.”

Tilting upward to get a good look at her, you lift a curious eyebrow. “I don’t mind—but why?”

“I just—” she faces away, pausing, breathing heavily. She’s about to say something she’ll regret. “Think it would be safer, yeah? Besides, I wouldn’t wanna be caught by my parents just being dropped off by people in suits.”

“Oh right.” 

“I mean this is nice and all but—” Karina stops again, lightly brushing your arm away. A reminder that wealth does not equate to relationship. “I think we’d be better off if we kept things strictly professional. You didn’t have to do all this. You were kind to me and that’s more than enough.”

You roll onto your back, staring up directly at the ceiling. You can only hope Karina is doing the same. She shouldn’t see how deflated you look—after you fucked her, no less.

“Karina, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

You don’t know exactly what to say. You’re only thinking about the what ifs and the what could, expecting the worst. So you look away, unable to face her a second longer.

Moments later, you feel the sudden tug of her embrace, a leg wrapped around yours. The softest kisses on your shoulder. You can feel her soft smile pressed against your neck. She’s cuddled up on you, intent on never letting go.

“Just keep being kind.”

—————

In the days ahead, it was about saving face. 

Karina’s wish has seemingly been lost in translation and disregarded, as you’ve been putting distance from her. Any little sign that she’s around is your signal to leave. It helps when you have two extra pairs of eyes keeping watch and alerting you at once.

All this to reinforce the same statement you’ve heard from her friends: that you’re no good whatsoever. 

Cautiously eavesdropping on their conversation through your unassuming bodyguards, you hear Karina’s distress over your earpiece, lamenting to her sisters about your absence in her life.

“I seriously don’t understand you. Are you deaf? Are you stupid?” says Ningning, vindicated about her stance. “He ghosted you. They always do that! Not just him! Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

“Please trust us. Rina, we’re worried about you,” adds Giselle, her tone showing more empathy and concern. “There’s no use in worrying about a man after you did—that.”

“No no. I want to believe,” Karina replies, insistent on you, ignoring all the red flags being waved around. “He really appreciates the affection I gave him. I have to. He seems like a good person in heart—”

“Ugh—here we go again with that good guy shit,” interjects Ningning, frustrated at her friend’s stubbornness. You hear a powerful thud, presumably from a table getting slammed in anger. “He isn’t a good guy! God, Karina, this is why you get bullied—”

“Hey, Ning. Let’s not go that far,” Giselle interrupts, her tone low. “Everyone’s looking at us.”

Dead silence follows, seemingly lasting an eternity. And then—

“Good job, Ning. She left and you made us look bad in front of everyone else,” Giselle adds, breaking the vast stillness, huffing before the audio goes quiet again.

“All the girls have left the cafeteria,” says your first bodyguard, the one you’ve assigned to Karina the first time.

“That’ll be all. Great work,” you tell them over the earpiece before disconnecting. 

You’re not hiding anywhere inside campus. In fact, you’ve been resting in the comfort of your own home the entire time. On your phone’s screen is Karina’s number, having been registered in your contacts since last week. Not once have you bothered messaging her, let alone call—yet you constantly return to it. With each passing day, the temptation to press that button grows stronger and stronger. 

You place your phone down on the desk, as if that’s gonna change anything. Seconds later, it’s in your hand, still on those 10 digits. Calling to you, as if her very voice is somehow playing through those tiny speakers. It’s all in your head, yet it feels vivid through your senses.

It all but confirms your own feelings: you can’t move on, and neither can she.

You’re looking around, even though not a soul’s in sight, convincing yourself to turn back before you fall further down. Seeing as there’s not a form of opposition, whatsoever, you pull the trigger, consequences be damned.

In the few seconds between calling the number and her imminent responding, you’re hoping she doesn’t answer. That she sees her friends’ points, to prove that you’re in the right by leaving her to dry.

All it takes is a few key words.

“Hey. I missed you.”

—————

There’s a lot to take in, but first—you swallow your own pride. This is your own doing, after all.

Looking out the window from your couch, it’s already night. Last time you checked, the sun had only begun setting; that was four hours ago, apparently. Meanwhile, Karina lies flat on the bed, every part of her mindlessly used, mindlessly fucked. Her skin gleaming, blemished in a sea of fiery red and sticky white. Her clothes scattered all over the house, their purpose rendered obsolete the moment she walked back in. You were standing there—waiting, expecting. Along with her body, came a simple request, in her words:

“Take me like you fucking missed me.”

Delivered straight to the point, Karina is something else. She’s twisted and cruel in her own way. To make such a demand in the sweetest voice possible—you can only chalk it up to witchcraft. And to think she was the one who wanted to keep things professional.

Any intentions to study and help with projects and research was a complete lie—it was more of a roundabout way for you to get inside her, over and over again. If anything, her body was the primary object of interest. 

All the ways you can fuck her, how she wants it—anything to get you to cum in her pussy. And that’s exactly what you did.

Spearing your hips against her frame, you find that Karina is so flexible, malleable to your every whim. How she complies without complaint or moment of hesitation, propping herself in whatever position your mind thought of in the moment, and there’s a few you were dying to try. On her fours, with her legs spread wide, on her knees, making an example out of her. So utterly shameless.

And God, she takes it all quite effortlessly, like it’s second nature to her. Milking you dry with her cunt, with her mouth, making you cum with some friction from her tits—everything is a little too easy. Taking just one look at her perfectly sculpted figure, it makes a lot of sense. Yet, Karina has to explain to everyone else why she can’t walk properly in the morning.

A week’s worth of repressed desires and wanton needs, completely gone in a few short hours. It may as well have been a year, maybe two, since you last met. 

You can only watch from a distance, from your couch, as everything falls apart. Even a single second that you’re at arm’s length and she’d be burying your grave deeper. As if it’s gonna change tonight’s outcome.

Like a reanimated corpse coming back to life, Karina rises from the bed, assessing the damage. It’s quite a lot. She’s an absolute wreck.

“I think I may have gone too far in some places,” you remark, observing her take your cum into her mouth with her finger. 

“I don’t believe that,” she says, taking another scoop and savoring the taste, flashing her pasty white tongue. You instinctively avert your gaze, much to her amusement.

“Christ—Karina, what happened to setting boundaries?” you ask, genuinely concerned. Even if it’s for one night, that’s all it takes for everything to snowball out of control. “I don’t think we can do this on the regular, even if I wanted to.”

“True,” she tells you, matter-of-factly, before stepping on the ground and pacing towards you, limping, barely recovering, “But I got nothing else except you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? You’ve genuinely changed my life,” she says, propping her hands to her knees to lean forward. “No one bullies me anymore. Because they think I’m your girl. I’m your possession.”

The way Karina calls herself yours gives you goosebumps. Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“This is what you’ve done to me,” she continues, tracing a finger down her drenched core, splayed and ruined—your handiwork—before rubbing her slick against your arm, eventually pushing it between your lips. You allow her. Her voice turns a pitch lower with each sentence. “I can’t express how much I need you right now.”

Sinking further back into your seat, you slowly tilt your face towards her, greatly alarmed. “You’re scaring me a little, Rina. We really should—”

She places that same finger between your lips, now to shut you up. Pressing herself forward, straddling on your lap, she makes sure her cum-soaked tits are directly in view of your face, threatening to smother you between them. Her smile is the cherry on top, inviting you to relax the senses and let yourself go in that familiar lust once again. “We can talk about this—on the other side.”

And before you know it, Karina’s riding you hard, with your face buried deep between her chest, worshiping her. You had no chance.

The next time you gain awareness, you’re back in bed, cuddled beside her. With her back against yours, she’s soundly asleep, despite the repeated calls from her phone and your supposed agreement to have her home by ten. 

It’s already half past midnight.

“Goddammit, Rina,” you mutter, eliciting a light shudder as your hot breath tickles her skin. “I can’t.”

“Just for tonight,” Karina tells you, as if you aren’t gonna be doing this again tomorrow—and the next night, and the one after. “My parents aren’t home,” she adds, clearly lying through her teeth.

“We seriously need to talk about this,” you tell her, rolling out of bed, scrambling for a fresh pair of clothes from the nearby closet. Meanwhile, Karina remains lying on your bed. She has no intention to leave. You have to reiterate again, “What happened to setting boundaries?”

Even the simple act of propping herself up draws your attention, more so in the nude, especially when she’s glistening in your sheen. The question amuses her; look at her teasing expression, ready to fire back. “You’re the one who called me here. So—”

“Jesus, Karina,” you sigh, working around the clock to get everything in order. Car’s ready, her clothes are in the wash. God willing, she’s actually telling the truth. “Why are you like this—”

She laughs—heartily.

—————

The next day on campus, you make it official. Sort of.

Karina’s friends are seated across the hall, their wary, foreboding gazes singling you out of the whole room. Intentions aside, you have no fight with any of them; it’s nothing personal. After all, it’s her choice. You’ll let them judge. You’re on your own for this one; you’ve told your bodyguards to leave you alone so as to make yourself look approachable in their eyes—even if there’s a negative chance they’ll ever buy it.

Then she enters the room, giving each one a kiss and a hug, as if they’re about to part ways for a long, long time. They’re overreacting; it’s not as though you’ll whisk her away and isolate her in some lonesome high castle.

You get a good look at her when she finally walks over. She’s wearing the new clothes you gave her last night. She makes your heart race with delight.

When she takes her seat directly opposite yours, you can’t help but silently remark, “They really don’t like me.”

She lightly chuckles. “Trust me. I’ve tried.”

“Yeah, I’m not asking them to like me,” you tell her, smiling from ear to ear, reaching out your hand, which she accepts. “I’m just—hoping they’ll see me one day as you do.”

“Sure they will. I believe deep down, you’re really a sweet guy.” 

You lower your head, unable to face her, but your face tells it all.

“Just to be clear, you’re not gonna make me actually sign a contract?” Karina asks, puzzled about the need to meet up on campus specifically to set your boundaries. The truth is, anywhere else that wasn’t school would be a distraction.

“Of course not,” you say, baffled at the idea yourself. “Dad usually did the paperwork, and that seems really weird.”

“So is having sex shortly after saving the damsel in distress,” she says, smirking through each word, mentally patting herself on the back for that remark.

Shaking your head in disgust, she laughs at your annoyed expression. That never gets old.

“Right—so what are we then?” Karina leans forward, grabbing your stretched out hand, her eyes widening. She’s looking to kiss you—at least that’s what her face is doing.

Ruminating through your next words carefully, occasionally giving the corner behind her a glance, her friends running through your mind, you reply, “Let’s just say I’m your benefactor for now. I don’t really want anyone to get surprised, and let’s just say, I’m not ready to handle everything just yet. But I want to stay close with you.”

“So we’re friends?”

“Yeah, if that’s how you want to see it.”

“Then there’s no need for this. Aren’t we already close?”

“Well I’m giving you money and clothes, in addition to letting you come over to my place once a week, so—”

Karina tugs your hand forward, interrupting you. “I don’t really need any of this. I just want you to treat me like anyone else. Like a friend. Just do that.”

You end up choking on your own words. Even when she’s admonishing you, Karina remains gentle in tone. And she knows how to bring the conversation around gracefully.

“So, what do you say we go out and have a snack later? After class?” 

With a lovely face and smile like hers, you’d be foolish to refuse her offer.

As the bell rings, you’re nodding in agreement when everyone stands up in unison, heading off to their next class. Karina leaves to regroup with her friends, but not without giving you a kiss goodbye as she walks through the door. You can only stare back—smiling.

Then you get a notification on your phone. A text from an anonymous number, seemingly demanding something urgently in all caps. Something about delayed shipments, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

Paying no heed to the message, you’re cancelling your plans for today to make room for your first date with Karina.

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! Was supposed to drop around Christmas, but then the holidays got busy, and then literally the day after Christmas, my dumbass just had to get food poisoned and hospitalized. Oof. Just poor timing all around, damn.

Fun little prompt, I was feeling a little edgy writing this, not gonna lie. Definitely left some clues for when I wanna revisit it. Karina is unfathomably hot, and I'm starting to like aespa a lot lately. They've probably had the best year of any girl group, and it's well deserved. Thank you for reading!)

[hiraethwrote]

i prefer it, actually

summary: after being called in the middle of the night, megumi comes over to take care of you while you're drunk

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, f!reader, sorority!reader, pure fluff, intoxicated reader, party but mostly going on in the background, throwing up, aged up characters

word count: 2.2k

“Hello?” Megumi answered the phone in a confused haze, the blaring ringtone waking him up from his deep sleep.

“Megumi? I think you should come down here.” The voice that greeted him wasn’t one he recognised, and his confusion only strengthened when he checked the caller ID to see a picture of you.

“Who is this?” He asked, slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up in his bed.

In the background, he heard muffled music interrupted by a loud gag. “It’s Kasumi.”

Kasumi? There was something scarily familiar about that name, and after a few silent moments of thought he connected the dots, remembering she was a part of your sorority.

And as the pieces fell together, the concern started to fill his body, serving almost as an alarm clock as his sleepiness become nothing but a distant memory in a matter of seconds. “Is she okay?”

“Well…” Kasumi trailed off on the other end of the phone before another horrible gag interrupted the line. “She’s just really drunk.”

His shoulders dared relax just an tad. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he sighed before another sickening sound he only assumed was you hunched over a toilet bowl. Some of his worry had settled when he knew you weren’t in any immediate danger at least, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again until he was certain you were safely in bed.

As he promised, fifteen minutes later he walked through the door of your sorority, the party still in full swing as he bullied himself through the thick crowd to get to the stairs.

God, he couldn’t stand this. Too many people shoved into a house where the mere concept of personal space was long abandoned. Obnoxious music that was so loud you were unable to hear your own thoughts — and not to mention how incredibly annoying people got when drinking.

Therefore he could not for the life of him fathom why you loved it so much. Only a handful of times had he accompanied you to parties like this, and you always managed to have a good time. That might be the only thing he has ever found himself liking with these things; seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

So for the most part, he just decided to stay in when you wanted to go out so he wouldn’t ruin your evening by moping around, constantly checking the time to see when it was acceptable for him to go to bed. He didn’t want to be that boyfriend who stopped you from doing the things you liked just because he didn’t want to.

When he reached your room, his head cleared up as the people and music from downstairs was shut out, transforming into muffled background noise through the floor. He placed three knocks on your bathroom door before it creaked open, spotting the blue haired girl he assumed had to be Kasumi. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning against the doorframe as she opened the door further.

“Thank god you’re here. She’s been begging for you for like two hours,” she groaned, not hesitating to walk out of the bathroom so she could return to the festivities. "I think she's pretty much finished in there, just tired now."

He cleared his throat. “Thanks for taking care of her,” he said awkwardly as she was about to exit your room.

“Of course,” she smiled sweetly. “She would have done the same for me,” and she was gone.

He turned back around, pushing the door fully open to reveal you just in the position he had excepted. Your hair was tied back in a ponytail, makeup slightly smudged from throwing up for who knew how long, a constant little shiver running through your body.

“How you hanging in there?” He asked, a small amused smirk creeping up on his face.

Lifting your head from where it was resting on your arm, you turned to look at him, face lighting up the second your eyes landed on him. “Megumi, you’re here!” You nearly cheered, both hands immediately extending towards him, needy for him to come join you on the floor.

He does as you wished, his hands instinctively stroking away the stray hairs that hung in front of your face, behind your ears. “Feeling okay?”

“Better now that you’re here!” You slurred, flashing your teeth at him in a huge grin. The annoyance and frustration caused by the party below was quickly forgotten at the sight of you beaming at him. Even though you looked tired, appearance tainted by the evening, it did nothing to smother beauty. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” You were clearly still intoxicated, eyelids droopy as you mumbled sentences he could barely make out.

“A little blue birdie told me you needed me, so,” he shrugged, as if it was nothing to think about.

“Awe, baby,” you squealed as you fell forward, head landing on his chest. “You’re too good for me,” you sighed, melting into his body, the heat radiating off of him soothing the shiver present in your own body.

A gentle hand finds your upper arm to give it a light squeeze. “Do you think you can get up?” He felt the movement of your head agree to his request. He stands up first, grabbing ahold of your clammy hands and pulling you to your feet, instantly lacing his arm around your waist when you nearly fell over the second you were stood up. “Easy there,” he chuckled quietly.

“I’m fine!” You rushed in a high pitched tone, grabbing onto him for support, feeling the room spin a lot more now than when you were leaned over the toilet. When you weren’t nuzzled up against his warm chest anymore, the tremble quickly found its way back to your muscles. “‘m cold.”

“You’re cold?” He asked for confirmation. You only nodded, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout. “Okay,” he whispered to himself before letting go of you by the sink before walking into your room to get you something.

“No, not that one!” You whined when he came back with one of your hoodies in his hands, earning you a confused frown from your boyfriend. “Want yours.”

He just rolled his eyes, acting as if he genuinely thought you were being a nuisance — but in reality, his heart did a little skip at the fact that you so persistently wanted to wear something of his instead.

At the foot of your bed he spotted a familiar hoodie, where you’d thrown it after waking up. Whenever the two of you didn’t spend the night together, you made sure to have a piece of his clothing nearby so he didn’t feel so terribly far away.

Could you be considered a clingy girlfriend? Probably — but you preferred the term devoted.

“Thank youuuuu,” you cooed as he simply tilted his head to signal for you to raise your arms. You happily obliged and he pulled it over your head, a satisfied hum slipping out as you hugged your arms around yourself to take in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

Without saying anything, he grabbed your toothbrush with one hand, and your face with the other to hold it still, fingers softly digging into your plush cheeks. He finds it surprisingly unproblematic to help you brush your teeth, suspecting your drunken state might actually have served as help, paralysing your usual restlessness.

He gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to your room again, but was abruptly halted when you decided to stop dead in your tracks. With pinched eyebrows, he turned to you.

“Babe, I can’t go to bed with my makeup on.” You let go of his hand to retreat them into the sleeves of the sweater, hoping the warmth it usually provided would find you soon.

“Okay?” He asked, nervously moving his hand to his neck, rubbing it slightly as he waited for you to give him the right instructions.

“There’s makeup wipes under the sink,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered under his breath and went to get the wipes. When he returned, he nearly stumbled over your limp body. During his short trip to the bathroom, you had suddenly decided to just lay down on your back in the middle of the floor. With another sigh, he positioned himself on his knees by your head before carefully lifting it into his lap.

He started with your eyes, lightly rubbing the wet wipe across your eyelids. It didn’t take long before he managed to draw a drunken giggle from your lips. “What?”

“You’re so gentle,” you opened your eyes to stare up at him, thinking he was upside down but you couldn’t be too sure as the room was still spinning. The frown — you once had thought was a chronic condition — was very much present.

“I don’t wanna pop your eyes out.”

You only laughed. “You’re not gonna pop my eyes out. C’mon, you can put a little more pressure.” He let out a long and stressed exhale before going back to work, grimacing in fear as he did as you’d told him.

Eventually, the makeup came off, but you continued to lay completely still. You kept your head in his lap, eyes closed and a small smile ever present on your face.

“Did you have fun tonight?” His voice was soft, barely audible — especially with the banging from the bass downstairs seeping through the floor.

“Meh,” you said simply as you shrugged.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you open your eyes to meet his gaze again. “You weren’t there.” He snorted, slightly rolling his eyes at your statement, believing you were only lying to make him feel better about coming all the way down to your sorority in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, right. How much did you have to drink?”

“No, Megs, I’m serious,” you giggled as your hands acted on their own, raising to cup his cheeks. “There’s only so much fun I can have when you’re not here.”

He felt his cheeks heat against your hands — you didn’t seem to notice however. He always thought it strange, that even after the two of you became official, it didn’t take a lot of effort from you to bring that redness to his face, a colour that had only grown familiar to his features after getting to know you.

“Sure, so fun having me sulk at your heels all evening.” There’s nothing but sarcasm in his tone as he continued to try and hide his flushed cheeks.

“I don’t mind,” you said softly as you gaze directly into his eyes, his blush only amplifying. “I prefer it, actually.”

His soft eyes roamed your face, lips slightly parted in awe. He still didn’t understand how you, who was so sociable, always the life of the party, beyond stunning, had decided he was the one you wanted to be with. And time and time again you confirmed it to him that it was for real.

Without much more thought, he simply leaned forward to press a tender kiss on your lips, your lips curling up in a giddy smirk. You were unable to contain yourself, breaking the kiss by hiding your face behind your hands, strangling the sweet giggles spilling out of you.

“You still make me nervous,” you said in between the cute sounds that was like music to his ears.

“I make you nervous?” He scoffed. “Alright, you’re clearly still drunk. Time for bed.” He gently tapped your shoulder, trying to get you to lift from his lap.

“You can never take a compliment,” you grumbled, wearing the frown that was more often seen painted on his eyebrows. He didn’t entertain your complaints, merely helping you up before leading you to your bed.

When he was about to turn around, your hand grabbed a hold of his wrist, surprised by the strength in your clutch. “No, you gotta stay here tonight!”

“I’m not leaving,” he laughed. “I’m just going to get you some water,” he said as he grabbed your hand to force you to let go.

“Oh.”

He can’t help but shake his head a little. You were probably the only drunk person he liked — of course, he was biased. During the parties, you were so outgoing, in a way he always admired. And then, when it was time to turn in for the night, you became so incredibly cute.

After having fetched the glass, he returned to see you wrapped up in the covers, having pulled the hood over your head and nuzzled further into the clothing.

A content huff left his nose as he put the glass down on your nightstand before stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers, then he carefully climbed over you. He knew he’d only receive grumpy grunts of annoyance if he tried to shove you to sleep closest to the wall.

The second he closed his eyes, he felt you snake your arm tightly around his torso and burying your face against his back, wanting to consume as much of his body heat as possible. Two light taps on your hand caused you to loosen your grip before he wiggled to turn around so you were now burying your head in his chest instead.

A deep, much needed, breath filled your lungs before you simply melted into him as his arms wrapped around you, humming in satisfaction as his hands slowly began to rub your scalp.

tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul, @nyahctrl, @ssetsuka

a/n the layout for these drabbles and short entries will be a little different, but yeah hope you like it. oh, and if you wanna be in the taglist, just lemme know <3 - btw, all warnings will be in the masterpost at all times

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized

[i-cant-cast-that-yet]

Y'know, I read a lot of Jiuyuan--or really just anything Shen Jiu in general, and Id like to pitch this idea to the class:

Disciple Shen Jiu who fuckin haaates men, right? Shen Jiu who goes to brothels to sleep bc he just can't around the other boys knowing full well how shit his reputation is bc of it but Fuck You he's gonna do what he has to to get some fucking rest on this shit ass peak of pretentious rich-kids who wouldn't know the tip of their sword from the hilt unless it was jammed in their throats--

Disciple Shen Jiu who's seen just about every flavor of man in the streets both from his nights with his jiejie's and from his time with the Qiu and the slavers, and loathes them with a passion and is, shamefully in his mind, afraid of them.

Standoffish, rude, holier than thou, venom spitting queen with a cruel streak a thinly veiled mile wide, Shen Jiu. A scum villain in the making.

Enter Disciple Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan, in all his millennial transmigrator glory. Hikkikomori ass lame ass chokes on a meatbun and fucking croaks after reading a porn harem web novel for the fucking plot (cough-lbh-cough) Shen Yuan.

This rando ass dude with Shen Jiu's family name--no they aren't related stop asking, Shen Yuan why do you look grossed out do you wanna fight??--

Shen Yuan who doesn't get close to any of his shijie's, bc "Oh they're all gonna be in Bingge's harem at some point, I don't wanna steal the protagonists wives!!"

Shen Yuan, a shut-in nerd in his early to mid 20s, who also shirks any of his shixiong's attention for other reasons. He's not big on sports in the first place, and as cool as swords are they're fucking heavy!!! Where's the training montage skip button, system!?!? All this (ugh) comraderie...he just wants to stay in the library and pretend the scrolls are as interesting as zhongdian was, okay?

Shen Jiu, who sees these avoidant traits in a boy with his name and a face that looks like his and assumes Shen Yuan has the same traumas as him.

He hates men, Shen Yuan included for both the happenstance of his birth and also because he's an idiot, but now he's seeing more of him reflected in this dude and it itches.

Maybe he bullies Shen Yuan like he does Binghe. Maybe Shen Yuan, who isn't actually a teenager in his own head like lbh was and fucking hates the scum villain (he called for castration in one life and he'll do it again!! This life gave him cultivation and a sword, he'll get creative if he has to) fights back.

Puts all that time in the forums to good use and verbally eviscerates the guy. Hits on several sore topics all at once and if it wasn't for the very public scene being caused Shen Jiu might have killed this upstart instead of just throwing a punch and jumping him like he currently is.

And listen. Fighting between peaks is typical. The Qing Jing peak lord of the time could care less if Shen Jiu fights the Liu kid from Bai Zhan--there's history between the peaks as it is. But the two Shens beefing so publically?? That's bad for Qing Jing's image.

Shen Jiu might be hated, but Shen Yuan is adored by several key figures across the sect and this Shizun can't tell if the brat did it on purpose or not but it's troublesome either way. Shen Jiu is here on Zhangmen-shixiong's head disciples request, so she can't get rid of either of them.

So she strategizes. It's like her whole thing.

Qing Jing peak lord-jie sticks the Shen's in the xianxia equivalent of the get along shirt. She makes them go on missions together, do chores together, etc. They'll either snap and kill one another or become friends. She wins either way.

It's bad at first. Blood is drawn, fans are thrown and broken over heads. They're too alike and too different and Shen Jiu sees himself in this kid but also every rich boy who wastes their own potential and privilege that they can't realize they were blessed with and he haaates it. Shen Yuan is pissed bc this ass is cruel and awful but so fucking sympathetic once he's spent enough time around the guy to put some pieces together. Bro loves a problematic blorbo and Binghe was a lot of things in pidw, but the product of Shen Jiu's projection is chief among them and Shen Yuan is getting a whole lot of it right now and it puts a lot into perspective.

...................

This is getting away from me now. It's late. Maybe I'll pick this up later.

[plomegranate]

i love palestinian and arab culture so much.

my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.

my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".

the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.

the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".

kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something

palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture

[finelinefae]

home (doctor!harry)

synopsis: y/n is homesick and harry wants to help her

word count: 7.7k

contains: fluff, Filipino y/n, doctor harry, medical talk, homesickness, brief moments of discrimination, workplace bullying, rude co-workers

a/n: happy soft girl sunday!!! this is such an interesting and personal topic for me because so much of this was inspired by my mama and her own personal experiences of leaving her home in the Philippines and moving to an entirely different country to create a better life for herself. this one is for all of my girls who are struggling with homesickness, who work in a job because they have to not because they want to, who try to support their families, who work in healthcare, whose first language is not english, who feel as though their identity is muddled up and so much more- this is for you and this is for my mama too.

. . .

‘You have just as much right to be here as everyone else.’

That’s what Y/N had been telling herself since she had left for work in the early hours of this morning. She had barely slept a wink last night, tossing and turning as her mind was riddled with things that hadn’t happened but weighed so much. 

Her backpack was filled with the things she listed weeks before. Her scrubs, a packed lunch, water, a few snacks to eat throughout the day and a couple of things loose at the bottom that jangled with each step she took towards the tube station. On her feet was a new pair of trainers her mother had bought her before she took the plane to a country she had never stepped foot in before the beginning of this month. 

“Mahal kita, mamimiss kita.” I love you, I will miss you. Her mother had said as she dropped her off at the airport. No tears in her eyes because they were all in Y/N’s as she clenched her fingers around the handle of her small suitcase that was just enough to last the first few months out of the three years she’d be living away from her family. 

“Mama,” Y/N cried, her family weren’t criers but today she was. 

Y/N’s mother shook her head, refusing to allow herself to cry when this was meant to be good. “Gagawa ka ng mga magagandang bagay.” You will do such good things. Her mother wiped away her tears, “Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 

Y/N was homesick as soon as the plane lifted off the ground of her home country. The trouble with planes was the window was always too small and she could only ever look down and not behind. Once they flew over her country of the Philippines, she took in everything she possibly could - the bright colours of the sea and the sand on the beaches that stretched for miles. 

She would come back and she would be better, for her family. 

As she stepped off of the tube train and walked up the steps towards the light, she took the sunshine peeking through the gaps of the grey clouds in the London sky as a good sign. Even though things weren’t easy, it doesn’t mean they were bad. 

The hospital was huge in comparison to the hospitals where she had done her training back home. It took her a while to find where the entrance was without going in through the emergency department but eventually, she found her way to the front desk. 

"Hi," Y/N said softly, feeling unsure. Even though she was good at English after years of studying it during school, she still doubted herself, especially around fluent speakers. It made her feel embarrassed and more of an outsider than she already was. “I’m Y/N, I’m here to pick up my ID badge.” 

The woman at the desk, peered over her glasses and smiled, “Is today your first day?” 

“Yes, I’m a healthcare assistant,” Y/N offered a smile, as best as she could despite her nerves. 

The woman’s fingers clacked against the keyboard, “I’m afraid your ID badge has yet to be delivered so I’ll have to give you a temporary one.” 

Y/N’s smile faltered, “Oh okay,” 

“Let me print one out for you, I’ll be right back.” The receptionist slid off her chair. 

Y/N stood to the side, her eyes darting around the hospital. There were many healthcare workers already at work, pushing patients around in wheelchairs or walking in pairs down huge corridors. She gripped the strap of her backpack, her palms sweating. 

Suddenly, a man stepped up to the desk beside her, reaching over to grab a clipboard and a pen. He was wearing a white shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Y/N’s eyes narrowed on his badge, seeing the word ‘Doctor’ written in bold. 

"Can I help you?" he asked in a detached tone, his attention elsewhere.

Y/N hesitated, noticing his lack of focus. "Um, no, I'm just waiting," she stammered.

He scoffed dismissively. "Typical," he muttered, setting the clipboard back down and finally turning to face her.

Y/N was taken aback by his striking appearance. Her breath caught as she met his gaze, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. His features were chiselled, framed by dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead. But it was his piercing eyes that held her captive, a mesmerising shade of green that reminded her of the leaves off the mango trees that grew in her hometown. 

His gaze found hers, and she noticed the subtle parting of his lips as his eyes settled on her. There was a softness in his gaze, a gentle relaxation evident in the way his shoulders eased down. Maybe it was from how frightened she looked as her gaze landed on everything around her but his voice was softer now, a hint of concern evident beneath the initial hardness, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she regained her composure. "Uh, no, I'm fine, thank you," she managed to reply, feeling a flutter in her chest at the unexpected kindness in his tone.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Well alright then. I know how hard first days can be so if I see you around, don’t worry about asking me for help.”

“Oh uh, thank you…Doctor,” Y/N replied, taken aback by his kindness. 

“Y�� can call me Harry,” She noticed a dimple appear when he smiled. His eyes were fixed on her for a beat before he pointed to his name badge and continued, “S my name y’ see.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and a little giggle escaped her, “It’s a nice name.”

“What’s your name?” Harry asked but was interrupted by the receptionist returning.

“Good morning Doctor Styles,” She greeted as she sat back at the desk.

“Good morning Hannah,” Harry replied, his eyes darting from Y/N to Hannah.

The woman slid the badge over to Y/N. It was a printed-out copy of the badge she was supposed to have gotten, laminated and whole-punched to a lanyard. Y/N took it between her fingers and read her name on it, her eyebrows furrowing. “Um, I think my last name is spelt wrong,” Y/N said, it would be fine if it was a small spelling mistake but it may as well be a completely different name with the way it had been spelt. 

“Sorry?” Hannah’s smile faltered. 

"U-um, my last name is spelled wrong. I-I'm sorry, I don't want to be such a pain," Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she handed the lanyard back to the receptionist.

The receptionist glanced at the name badge, and then back at Y/N. "Oh, it must be because it's such a complicated name. I must have spelt it wrong on the computer. Are you sure you can't just use it? Only until your ID comes in?"

Y/N felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She hated confrontation or being an inconvenience, but she had already given up so much for a better life here. She couldn't give up her name too. "But it's my name," she insisted softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and determination.

Just as the receptionist's mouth opened to respond, the Doctor, who had been silently observing, cleared his throat. "Hannah, I think it would be better if we give Y/N the correct name on her own ID badge, don't you think?" He interjected gently, coming to Y/N's aid without hesitation. “The whole point of it is to let people know who we are, we wouldn’t want people getting Y/N’s name wrong on her first day would we?”

Hannah frowned and Y/N could tell she wasn’t happy, “Right, I’ll be right back.” 

Y/N released a sigh, putting a hand to her forehead, “Thank you, Doctor Styles.” She said even though she was extremely embarrassed. 

“Hey it’s Harry,” He smiled, “And you were right to argue with her, ‘s your name which is beautiful by the way.”  Y/N's cheeks flushed even deeper at his compliment, but she managed a shy smile in return, feeling a sense of gratitude for Harry's kindness and support. “Don’t let these people push you around. You have just of a right to be here as everyone else.”

Y/N’s lips parted as he spoke the words she had been repeating to herself since she woke up. Y/N watched him go, her heart still racing at the unexpected encounter, a newfound warmth spreading through her as she resumed her wait in the bustling hospital corridor. 

Hannah soon returned with an annoyed look on her face as she handed Y/N her temporary badge with her name written correctly. She thanked her and walked away already having gained a possible enemy but maybe a possible friend too. 

 . . .

“I don’t want her as my nurse,” An elderly patient said midway through the day as they were serving lunch. 

Y/N had been in her scrubs for five hours, with another seven to go. Her feet ached from standing all day, attending to the patients that had been assigned to her at the start of the day. While some of the other healthcare workers had been welcoming, she couldn't ignore the clear divide between them. They tended to gather in separate groups and have their own cliques going on amongst them, but Y/N appreciated their support as she adjusted to her new role, minding her own business as she did. 

“Margot,” Layla, another healthcare assistant, spoke to the eighty-year-old woman who was laying in bed waiting for her lunch to be fed to her, “Y/N’s a new healthcare assistant, she’s just going to be feeding you lunch.”

“I don’t want her,” Margot protested, “I want someone else.”

Y/N's gaze dropped, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She had been expecting this to happen at some point but she didn’t think it would happen so soon. "It's alright, Layla. I'll take over your tasks," Y/N offered quietly, not wanting to make a scene.

Layla's eyes softened with sympathy. "She's not usually like this," she whispered.

Y/N nodded, her resolve firm as she gathered her belongings to assist elsewhere. "No problem," she replied with a shrug, masking her hurt.

"C'mon, Margot," Layla urged gently, collecting the tray of hot lunch.

"I don't want a foreigner feeding me," Margot muttered sharply, her words stinging the air.

Y/N’s eyes stung as she left the room. She thought she had been lucky with her patient’s today and the majority of them had been rather lovely. They’d been interested in Y/N’s life, noticing her olive-toned complexion and black hair and asking her where she came from. The question allowed her to reminisce on her time back home and describe the foods and the environment she grew up with but it was only so long before she came across someone who didn’t care - seeing her as nothing more than a stranger in a foreign land that never quite felt like home.

Y/N took three deep breaths before stepping into the wing to cover Layla's shift for an hour. She knew she needed to shake off the hurt from the recent encounter, hoping that immersing herself in work would help ease the discomfort. 

Three other women were working on the ward when Y/N entered the room. They were sitting in the corner on plastic chairs, sharing a phone screen as some show played. One of them turned when they noticed Y/N was in the room which caused the other two to follow. 

“Hello,” Y/N spoke, timidly, “I’m here to help out Layla for a little while.” 

The women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions morphing into smirks. One of them, the apparent leader of the group, sneered as she replied, "Oh, great. About time someone else did some work around here. Layla's been slacking off all morning." 

“Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, Layla had been very kind to her just moments ago. 

“Yeah,” The leader replied, her lips smacking together as she chewed on a piece of gum, “You can start by feeding those three their lunches.” She pointed her finger towards three patients lying in their beds. 

“All three?” There were only six beds in the room. 

“Is there a problem?” The woman folded her arms, the other two trying not to laugh behind her. 

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “No there is not.”

Y/N rolled up her sleeves and got to work, trying to spoon-feed all three patients as the other girls sat in the corner continuing to watch their show. Despite the mocking gaze of her co-workers, Y/N was fully determined to prove to herself that she could get through this. She needed to just put her head down and remind herself that this was for the better - the money would be worth it at the end of the month and she’d have enough to send to her family back home too. 

As Y/N sat with the last patient, one of the ladies stood up to go and tended to another one. “Janice,” She cooed, walking over to the side of the bed where an elderly woman lay asleep, “Janice wake up love,” She squeezed her hand, “Janice?”

Y/N’s head shot in their direction, her eyes falling on Janice who wouldn’t wake up. She dropped the bowl of food on the side table and rushed over, “Hello Janice? Can you hear me?” The lady asked as Y/N put her ear to her mouth to see if she was breathing. 

“She’s unconscious,” Y/N stated, “Her throat is blocked, did you feed her?”

The woman’s eyes were wide, “I-I-”

“Call the doctor,” Y/N instructed one of the other girls who immediately pressed the red button to alert the emergency services. 

“We don’t have enough time,” Y/N muttered, “Get me a tracheostomy tube.”

“We don’t have authorisation to-”

“I can do it, I’ve done it before, please.” Y/N’s adrenaline was running high but she remained calm on the surface, it was what she had been trained to do. 

The woman hurried over with a tube, and Y/N wasted no time. With steady hands, she performed a tracheostomy to create an emergency airway for Janice. Time seemed to blur as Y/N worked quickly and efficiently.

Minutes later, as Y/N finished, the doctor entered the room, taking in the scene with great concern and alertness on his face. “Where’s the emergency?” It was Doctor Styles, Y/N recognised him by his voice. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, even though the patient had been saved and was able to breathe better, it wasn’t protocol to allow Healthcare assistants to perform such an intricate procedure that could so easily go wrong. She could be in big trouble for this and it was only her first day. 

“Janice was unconscious, she was barely breathing,” One of Y/N’s co-workers explained.

Harry approached the patient, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realised what Y/N had done. "You did this?" he asked his tone a mix of astonishment and concern.

Y/N looked up, her stomach churning with dread. She could already picture the disappointment on her mother's face for potentially jeopardising her job on the first day. "I was trying to-"

"Do you realise how dangerous this procedure is?" Harry's voice cut through her explanation.

Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, her throat tightening with guilt. "Yes, I do."

"She could have died," Harry stated, his tone grave.

"I know, but I-" Y/N began, her words faltering.

"You saved her life," Harry's interruption caught Y/N off guard, her head shooting up to meet his gaze. For the first time, she saw the awe and shock reflected in his eyes.

“How did you know how to do it?” Harry asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.

“I learnt it during my training,” Y/N explained, her nerves still on edge.

“You just learnt it?” Harry chuckled softly, his gaze drifting to the other women in the room. "And what were you three doing when this happened?"

“W-well, we've yet to learn that procedure, Doctor Styles,” one of them spoke up, the rest nodding along in agreement.

Harry rolled his eyes, his attention returning to Y/N. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Truly remarkable,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. 

. . .

Y/N was exhausted at the end of her shift. Her bag was still packed, her lunch and snacks untouched, because she had been on her feet all day. Her skin felt sticky underneath her sweatshirt, she couldn’t wait to shower once she got back to the house. 

As she left the hospital, she inhaled the fresh air and felt the cool breeze against her flushed face.  She needed to get the tube station back to her boarding house but she was grateful to finally have a few hours away from the scent of disinfectant and rude co-workers. 

“Y/N!” Y/N spun on her heel as she heard the call of her name, turning to see Doctor Styles pacing towards her. It was the first time today she had seen him wearing glasses. 

“Doctor Styles, I thought you would be at home already,” She smiled as best as she could despite feeling much too tired to do so. 

“No, I still have a few hours to go.” He replied, that dimple and sparkle in his eye returning to his equally tired face. “I caught you walking out and left my office to come speak to you. I was really impressed by what you did today. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a healthcare assistant do that under such pressure.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N was terrible at taking compliments, even more so when she was tired.

“It was everything. You saved a woman’s life.” Harry stated. 

"Right," Y/N murmured, her mind still reeling from the events of the day and Harry's constant acknowledgement.

A brief moment of silence fell between them as Harry looked as though he was trying to speak but didn’t know how to word it properly, “Listen I…forgive me if I’m being too forward but would you maybe want to grab something to eat with me one night, maybe, I don’t know. If you want to of course, no pressure, and if you have a boyfriend that’s okay too but is it okay if you don’t tell me because that would be incredibly kind towards my pride.”

For the first time today, Y/N released a genuine laugh as he finished his rambling. “You’re not like the boys back home.” She said after she had composed herself. 

Harry frowned, “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s refreshing,” She told him, it was nice to experience something new and it be a good thing for once. “I will go out with you Harry.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips, despite his attempt to suppress it by biting his bottom lip. He rubbed his hand over his mouth in a futile effort to conceal his grin, but the crinkles around his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks betrayed his amusement. "Okay," he chuckled softly, unable to contain his delight. "That’s good."

“I have an afternoon off in three days time, is that okay?” He asked eagerly, wanting to see her as soon as possible.

“I would like that,” she says, her voice filled with anticipation. “A lot actually.”

Their gazes locked for a brief moment. “Well, I should probably get going,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.

“Yes, of course. Can I give you my number first? I can text you the details later if that’s okay,” Harry asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“Oh, sure,” Y/N replied, taking out her phone, which only had her family’s numbers saved in it.

Harry quickly typed his number into Y/N's phone before handing it back to her with a warm smile. “I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I’m here tomorrow.” Harry walked backwards towards the hospital entrance, smiling and shaking his head before turning his back to her.

Y/N was in disbelief as she began her journey home. She couldn't shake the feeling of surprise that someone like Harry would want to go on a date with her. Dating wasn't even on her radar when she arrived; she had suspected that no man would find her attractive because of how she looked - she wasn’t really deemed the stereotypical female in Western society. But Harry's genuine interest had shattered those doubts. As she navigated through the bustling streets, a newfound sense of confidence began to bloom within her. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful and a new distraction from her overwhelming life. 

. . .

Harry had been eyeing the clock all morning. 

“Have somewhere to be?” Niall, his co-worker, asked, having seen him glued to the clock. 

“Something like that,” Harry mumbled. 

With just an hour left of his shift, Harry couldn't shake the anticipation of taking Y/N out for dinner tonight. She had been occupying his thoughts incessantly for the past three days. The golden hue of her skin and the soft, round features of her face had etched themselves into his mind. He found himself mesmerised by the almond shape of her eyes, their deep brown colour reminiscent of a shot of espresso in the morning. 

He loved the melodic, soft tones of her voice and the way she spoke with an accent that brought life into the usual boring words people spoke to him every day. He thought about how her cheeks would tinge pink whenever she’d start speaking, how shy she was whenever he’d praise her or how expressive her eyes were whenever she wasn’t talking. 

He was a Doctor and knew all the ways in which the mind and body worked but he was beginning to question his beliefs since he had met Y/N because he was pretty sure he had fallen in love at first sight. 

Everything about her had been on his mind and he was desperate to find out all that he possibly could about the quiet, shy healthcare assistant who saved the life of a woman on her first day. 

Interrupting the images of Y/N that had been playing in his mind, was the sound of the buzzer to the emergency department. Harry sat up at the same time as Niall who was already standing to his feet to go and see what the problem was. He sighed, hoping for time to hurry up so the evening would arrive much sooner. 

“Hey it’s me,” Harry sighed a heavy sigh into the phone as he held it against his ear, sitting in his car in the staff parking area of the hospital many hours later. His forehead was pressed against the steering wheel as tiredness and guilt laced within him.

“Hello Harry,” Y/N’s soft voice rang through the speaker, soothing a piece of him that was just so tired, “Is everything okay?”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, “You’re probably going to hate me for this but is there any chance we can reschedule? Something came up at work and I’ve only just come out.” He was five hours overtime after a family had been rushed into the emergency room after an accident. 

He swallowed as he waited for her to reply, “Oh,” She said and the small remark made him feel even more guilty than he already felt. 

“I’m sorry,” He hated himself because it was all he had been looking forward to.

“Harry,” Y/N said his name, “It’s okay. I’ve worked in enough hospitals to know these things happen. Of course, we can go at another time but are you okay?”

He released a long breath at the question, “No not really,” it was the truth and another reason why he needed to reschedule the date. He had seen some pretty tough things today and it weighed heavily on his mind. 

“Have you eaten?” Y/N asked, concern in her voice. 

His eyes stung, his head falling back against the headrest, “No I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

Y/N sighed over the phone, “Do you live close by?”

“I live about ten minutes from the hospital,” He told her, wondering why she would ask. 

“Is it okay if I come by?” She asks, “I mean it’s okay if not.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped, “That actually sounds really nice.”

The fact that Y/N would be visiting him at his home seemed to ease the weight of the long day from Harry's shoulders. With a faint smile playing on his lips, he leaned back in his seat, feeling a hint of anticipation at the thought of her company.

When Harry got home, he saw how messy his apartment was. Feeling a sudden jolt of energy, he quickly picked up his laundry off of the floor and threw dirty dishes into the dishwasher. He took a moment to straighten up the living room and fluff the cushions on the couch. Trying to make everything look cleaner than it actually was in order to impress her. 

His buzzer rang and he quickly went to answer it, allowing her to come up as his heart raced in his chest. With one last glance around the room, he swiftly nudged something under the coffee table before reaching the door just as she knocked.

Harry felt all the tiredness from his body lift when he opened the door and found her standing there with a plastic carrier bag in her hands. She was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and her face make-up free. 

“Hey,” He breathed, a piece of him settling when he laid eyes on her, “Thank you for coming here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” She smiled and walked past him after he moved to the side to let her in. 

Her eyes were wide as she took in his apartment, “This is a lot better than the boarding house.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “You’re living in a boarding house?”

She nodded, “Only until I can find my own place to live. It was what the company who transferred me here offered when I applied.” 

“I see,” Harry realised he was still in his uniform except his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose around his neck. 

Y/N placed the plastic bag on the kitchen counter, “I bought some things to make you since you didn’t eat. How about I start cooking and you can get changed?” 

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “I-I hope you don’t think I invited you over to cook for me Y/N. I actually really just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, “It’s okay, I enjoy cooking and maybe it’s my excuse to see you too.”

He took a step forward, “If I had known you had been waiting to find an excuse I would have invited you over much sooner.” 

She shifted under his gaze, biting her lip to stop her smile, “Go get dressed,” She ordered and Harry grinned, it was the first time he had seen her act so assertively. 

He took a thirty-minute long shower, scrubbing off the remains of the day from his skin. He wore a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, drying his hair with a towel as he re-entered the kitchen to find Y/N already plating up the food she had made. 

The kitchen was an aroma of fragrances Harry had never smelt before. His mouth watered as Y/N spooned rice onto plates and picked up the saucepan to bring to the kitchen island. “This smells amazing,” Harry sat on one of the stools, picking up a knife and fork. 

“It’s called chicken adobo,” Y/N informs him, “It’s a traditional dish of the Philippines, my mama used to make it for me and my sister when we’d come in from school.” 

Harry listened intently, “That’s where you’re from?” 

Y/N smiled, “It’s my home.” She took Harry’s plate and spooned some of the chicken on top of the rice before doing the same for herself, “I hope you don’t mind but I use my hands to eat,” 

Harry lowered his knife and fork, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Y/N picked up some of the rice and chicken with her fingers,  “It’s called Kamayan. It’s meant to help appreciate the flavours and textures of the food we make or are served.”

Harry looked genuinely interested as Y/N ate the food pressed into her hand, “Can I try?”

Y/N paused chewing on her food, not expecting him to want to try something that in many Western cultures might be considered bad manners. She quickly swallowed it down and nodded, “Of course.” 

Harry pursed his lips as he concentrated on gathering the rice and chicken into his hands. He felt the stickiness of the rice as he pressed it with his fingers. It wasn’t as graceful as Y/N had done as he attempted to put it all into his mouth. He chewed on the chicken, his taste buds tingling at the new flavour. 

Swallowing it down his eyes brightened, “It’s delicious!”

Y/N’s eyes crinkled, “Yeah? You think so?”

“I’ve never eaten with my hands before but it feels quite liberating.” He chuckles.

Y/N laughs, “My mama always told us to eat with our hands.” 

Harry repeated the action, scooping the perfect serving into his hand and eating it, “Where did you live when you lived in the Philippines?”

“I grew up in Roxas City- it’s on one of the many islands and it’s beautiful. The beaches stretch for miles and the water is so blue and clear you can see your feet walking along the bottom.” Harry watched as Y/N explained animatedly what her home country was like. Her words brought the images to life in his mind as he pictured her walking along the beaches. 

He was happy to see her relax into conversation the more questions he asked about her home, “What made you want to come here to work?”

Y/N’s smile faltered and Harry wished he could take back the question but she answered, “My family aren’t wealthy and I always knew I would have to leave at some point to go out and make enough money to bring back for them so we could have a better life. I trained in healthcare so I could come here and work.” 

Harry's expression softened, concern evident in his eyes. "Has it been difficult?" he asked gently. He knew it might sound like a cliché question, but he genuinely wanted to make sure she was coping okay. It must be incredibly difficult having to leave everything you know for something completely different. 

“I’m so homesick,” Y/N’s eyes watered, “Every day I go back to that boarding house and count down the days until I can go home again. I-I thought I knew English before coming here but it’s so difficult to understand when people are talking so fast and expecting you to know what they’re saying.” Harry grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. She took it in her hands and gave him a watery smile, “I miss my mama and my sister and the sun. London is so grey.” 

Harry reached out a hand and gripped her fingers, squeezing them gently, “Hey, you’re doing so good Y/N.” He started, “You’re so unbelievably brave for coming here and starting this new life. I mean I couldn’t do what you’re doing - I get homesick even when my mum lives ten minutes away,” Y/N laughs and the sound sparks something inside of him, even when she was crying she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, “You should be so proud of yourself and I know your family is proud of you too.”

Y/N’s watery eyes looked into his, “Thank you,” She whispered, “This is the first time I’ve stepped outside my house other than to get that stupid train to work.” 

“Seriously?” Harry was shocked, no wonder she was feeling so trapped and cooped up. 

Harry glanced at their two empty plates before giving her hand a tight squeeze, “C’mon,”

“What-” Y/N watched as he grabbed his jacket and car keys.

“Let me take you somewhere,” He insisted, his voice warm and inviting. 

“But it’s dark outside?” Y/N slid off her stool and followed him to the front door. 

“That’s the best time of day,” He smirked and whisked her away to his car where he drove her through the streets of London, illuminated by the lights that lit up the streets. 

He parked on the side of the road somewhere and they walked for fifteen minutes until they reached a busier area of the city where people were still out with friends, “Hopefully it’s still there,” He mumbled. 

“What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned and her head lifted to see the bright lights from billboards that surrounded the square. Perfume adverts and models appeared on the big screens as tourists posed for pictures in front of them. 

“This is Piccadilly Circus,” Harry motioned to the place they were standing in. He intertwined their fingers and led her over to stand her in front of the biggest billboard of them all, “And that is your home.” He pointed to it and the billboard switched to a picture of a beach that looked almost exactly the same as the one she had grown up near. Big, bold letters with the words ‘Visit the Philippines’ were at the bottom but Y/N couldn’t seem to stop staring at the sea that illuminated the square, casting it in blue light. 

Her eyes glistened with tears, “I know it’s not the same,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, “But-”

“It’s my home,” Y/N gasped, a grin taking over her entire face, “That’s where I’m from Harry!” 

Harry’s grin mirrored hers, “It is!” He replies with equal enthusiasm. 

“Can you take a picture of me?” She reached for her phone and passed it to him. Y/N smiled like a kid at Christmas in front of the billboard and Harry quickly snapped a picture before it switched to a different advert. 

He handed the phone back to her and she looked down unable to keep her eyes off of that blue sea she had been missing. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” She murmured and looked up to see him already gazing at her, “Thank you.”

Harry smiled bashfully, shaking his head, “I know you don’t believe it yet but I think you were meant to be here at this moment in life and I think maybe I was meant to be here too.” He admitted. 

“You really think that?” She asked.

“I believe it wholeheartedly,” He stated. 

When the billboard returned to the picture of the sea, Y/N insisted Harry stand to get a picture in front of it. He pulled a face, pointing at the billboard and the picture came out all blurry because Y/N had been laughing too much. 

Late into the night, they stayed in Piccadilly Circus taking pictures of each other and with each other as the beach appeared on the screen. Harry swore his camera roll was now just pictures of Y/N squealing with excitement whenever the image of the beach appeared. 

In the moments in between, they sat and spoke. Comparing cultures and learning more about one another. Whilst Y/N had learnt about Harry’s family and living in the English countryside as a child, Harry had learnt all about Y/N’s time in the sun and how much she adored fishing in the spring and picking mangoes off her grandpa’s mango trees. 

It wasn’t a date, it was more than that. 

It was the converging of two paths in life that had now become one. 

. . .

Mahal na mama, Dear mama. 

I got my first paycheck today and I have sent you as much as I can. I hope it’s enough to buy you some new shoes because I know you are getting tired of your old ones. 

I have been working hard and I’m slowly growing used to the way things work here. I’d be lying if I told you it was easy, it’s been so incredibly hard. So many times I have been desperate to come home, wondering whether this was where I belonged or if it just wasn’t meant to be. 

But Mama, I’ve met someone. 

Don’t be upset. I know you always told me and sissy it should always be careers before boys but he has become my home away from home mama. 

He’s a doctor at the hospital and his name is Harry.

Every day he picks me up from work even though his apartment is right by the hospital and we walk into work together. He’s not embarrassed to hold my hand or kiss me goodbye either. 

I spend a lot of days at his home because it’s a lot nicer than my boarding house. He asks me to cook him some of your recipes and he tells me to tell you that they are delicious and he hopes one day that you can cook them for him. 

He loves to listen to me speak about home and I love to hear him speak about his. 

He’s introduced me to this whole other world of culture mama and it is so beautiful. 

I love you and I miss you but I am safe and happy and I am doing well.

I am still counting down the days until I can come home and visit you but just know I am no longer homesick because of him. 

Mahal kita Mama. 

. . .

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,”

“Ang… Pan-gaaa-”

“Pangalan,” Y/N tried not to laugh at the concentrated look on his face. 

“Pangalan,” She nods.

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,” Harry looks at her for confirmation and she nods, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry, my name is Y/N.” She murmurs against his lips. 

She feels his lips curve against hers before he puckers them and presses kisses all over her face. She tries to pull him away but he keeps her in his grip until they collapse onto the bed. “Harryyyy,” She giggles as he presses kisses along her exposed collarbones. 

“What’s the word for kisses again?” He murmurs against her neck. 

Y/N’s hands run through his curls, pushing them back from his face. Her lips ghost against his as she murmurs, “Mga halik,” 

“Mga halik,” He repeats, his pronunciation improving. 

“Mhm,” She puckers her lips to kiss him to which he happily hums and returns her kiss. “I need to start dinner,”

“No,” He whines, holding onto her, “Stay.”

“But I’m so hungry and you need to help me with the lumpia.” She says referring to the spring roles she had taught him to make. 

“We can’t order a pizza?” He pouts, “I just want to hold you.” 

Y/N sighed but was unable to prevent herself from falling for the pouty look on his face, “Fine, we’ll get a pizza but only if we can get it with pineapple.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Criminal,” 

“But you love me?” She grins, cheekily. 

“I do,” He kisses her before grabbing his phone, “I truly do.”

Since moving to a new country and meeting Harry, Y/N's life had transformed. He had brought back the sense of familiarity she had lost when she moved across the world. In him, she found not just love, but a true home—a place where she belonged and was cherished in return.

Her work and life in general had become easier because she no longer felt so alone. Every day they’d sit together during their lunch breaks at work and go back to Harry’s apartment at the end of their shifts. 

“Hi baby,” Harry greeted her whenever she’d get into the car with him. He’d lean over the console and kiss her. 

“Hi syota,” Sweetheart. She’d say in return and despite how tired he felt, he always managed to smile at the term of endearment she’d picked for him. 

Further into their dating, Harry had been desperate to learn her language. Even though Y/N told him it didn’t matter to her - they had their own ways of communicating that only they understood, bridging the gap between words that got lost in translation - he was instant on it. 

“But when our kids learn, I’ll be left out.” It was the first time he said I love you without even saying the three words. 

As they sat in his living room, which was slowly becoming hers too, eating pizza and watching Lord of the Rings, because Harry was insistent on making Y/N watch the whole series if she wanted to truly see the beauty of Western culture, Y/N realised that maybe Harry was right and this was where she was meant to be all along. 

“I love you,” Harry murmured as he held her in his arms on the couch. 

“Mahal kita.” I love you. She replied, feeling more at home in his arms than she did anywhere else in the world. 

3 years later… 

“Are you nervous baby?” Harry whispered in her ear as they sat side by side on the plane, their fingers intertwined. She was wearing his sweater and he had one of her rings on a chain around his neck, it was the physical representation of how they had interwoven their lives had become. 

“A little,” Y/N confessed, glancing out the window to see they were nearing the island she had left three years ago. “I’m worried they won’t like this version of me.”

“Hey,” Harry cupped her cheek in his hand, “They’re your family, they’ll love every version of you the same way I do.” 

Y/N’s lips turned upwards, “You promise?” 

“I’d never lie to you my love,” He kissed the bridge of her nose. 

The plane shook as it landed on the ground. Y/N could already feel the heat of the sun before she’d even stepped off the plane, just from looking out the window. Harry grabbed her duffle bag from the overhead compartment and took his own travel case as well. 

He was wearing a shirt that said ‘But Daddy I love him’ and white shorts with sunglasses buried in his dishevelled curls. They had been flying for hours, the both of them exhausted, but Y/N couldn’t seem to calm the jitters of seeing her home again. 

Harry pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “Calm down, puso ko.” my heart. 

“Do you think she’ll be here?” Y/N was already craning her neck as they got to passport control even though it was impossible to see past the arrival gates from where they stood. 

She remembered what her mother had told her when she dropped her off to start her new life in England. 

“Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 

She hoped she had done just as her mother said and she would be returning to her as someone better than the person she used to be. 

Once they got through the gate, Y/N stood on her toes and tried to spot her mother in the crowds. She didn’t expect to see her right away as her mother was rather short but she hoped she’d sense her presence somewhere in the room. 

“Do you see her?” Y/N asked, Harry was also looking around to see if she was somewhere. 

“Y/N!” A warm, comforting voice that echoed in the depths of her childhood and rang through her to this day, called for her amongst the bustle of people. 

Y/N’s eyes watered, “Mama!” She called, spinning around to find her. 

“Hey look baby,” Harry pointed and that’s when Y/N saw her. Her arms open, standing in the place she promised she would be three years later. 

“Mama!” Y/N dropped Harry’s hand and ran towards her mother, enveloping herself in her arms and feeling her soft skin against her own. She felt the hands that had held her as a child, cling to the back of her shirt. 

“Ang anak ko,” My child. Her mother held her. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Y/N whispered, her eyes flooding with tears. 

Y/N pulled away, looking down at her mother and feeling a fresh flood of tears fill her eyes. A presence came up behind her, a hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on top of his and watched as her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Mama, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry cleared his throat, placing their bags on the floor, “Hello ang pangalan ko ay Harry. Ikinagagalak kitang makilala.” Hello, my name is Harry. Nice to meet you. His tone was slightly unsure as he spoke but Y/N beamed as he spoke the words to his mother, having spent the last few years teaching him. 

Her mother smiled, a tear falling from her eye. Y/N’s lips parted, having never seen her mother cry before. She took a step forward and then wrapped her arms around Harry, “Salamat sa pag-aalaga sa anak ko.” thank you for taking care of my daughter. 

Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing in the middle of the airport. She wanted to take this moment and bottle it up as she watched her two favourite people in the entire world embrace each other. 

If there was one thing Y/N had learnt from her time away it was that home wasn’t so much of a place anymore but the people instead.

These were her people.

They were her home. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dark Shelves 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes (archivist AU)

Summary: your new job is much of the same, with a hit of new misery.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You peer up at the romanesque pillars and the curved dome of the elaborate building. It’s a step up, a high one, and you’re proud of yourself for taking. After years in a basement, blowing dust off of rusted spoons that may as well be at the good-will, you’re finally exactly where you want to be.  

Not associate, not assistant, you are an archivist in your own right. You will not be pushed into the corner again. Though you aren’t too presumptive. You could get lost in any stacks. You like how your job affords you pockets of solitary, but you didn’t choose the career on that alone.  

You work to preserve and share the past. It sounds more noble in your head than out loud. It’s a good enough reason for you. 

You climb the stairs and pause before you pass through the double doors. Inside, the lobby is airy and polished to a shine. You try not to marvel too obviously. Too often you’ve been caught and ridiculed for the very act. Most people look at you and assume less than more of you. 

You walk up the front desk, a grand circular structure with shelves behind it. The man behind it has a metal nametag on his brown plaid shirt; Peter. You greet him stoically. You quit smiling to appease strange men a while ago. 

“Hi, I’m here to get my employee ID.” You take out your phone. “Then I’m supposed to meet someone named James.” 

“Right, I have your welcome packet,” he reaches under the desk. “It’s here.” 

“Great,” you accept the folder as he beams back at you. He’s young and fresh-faced. He must still be a student. “Thank you.” 

“Have you been her before?” He asks. 

“A couple times,” you answer. 

“Cool, cool,” he accepts, “there’s a map in there in case.” He points to the folder. “You’re going to second floor. East wing. The office number is in the email.” 

“Yes, I saw that. Thanks so much,” you nod. 

“Oh, your card’s activated. So any access thingies, just swipe,” he says. 

“Got it,” you cross your arm over the folder and continue around the desk to the double set of staircases that open behind it. 

You climb patiently. You’re early. You always are. A long academic career has drilled the habit into your very being. 

You check the email one last time and put your phone away. You’re not one for stereotypes but in your experience, the senior archivists tend to hate screens. You always resented their stubbornness. Digital backups are essential to the future of your profession. It could also just make their lives easier in general. 

As you count down the office numbers, you slow down. The short heels of your lace-up boots clack softly on the oaken floor tiles. The door you need is already open and there’s a man standing in it. He leans slightly on the frame as he faces inward. His deep voice carries behind him. 

You push your shoulders back as you approach. You don’t want to interrupt. You stop about a foot back, unsure how to go forward. You check your watch with a subtle tilt of your head. 

The man in the door is tall. He has one foot pointed to the floor, and arm bent back as he pushes back his brown corduroy jacket and grips his hip. He wears a dark blue turtleneck that meets the long tails of his outgrown hair. There’s never an in-between with archivists. They are either immaculately preened are shaggy and stuffy. 

“Right,” the man glances over his shoulder at you and his eyes squint, crinkly his nose, “I think I’m holding someone up.” He turns to face you, “hello, miss, do you need some help? Looking for the newspaper lab?” 

You’re not surprised that he assumes you to be a student. It’s a common presumption among his demographic. They are always the authority and everyone they don’t know must be ignorant. 

“No. Hello, I’m an archivist. Newly-hired. You wouldn’t happen to be James Barnes?” 

“James?” His mouth slants. “Only his mother calls him that. Bit of advice, it’s Bucky.” 

“Steve,” a voice drawls from within the open office. 

“Alright, alright,” the man shows his hands then extends one to you. “Steve Rogers. I’m the next door down. Fellow senior archivist, with James.” 

“Steve,” another snarl. 

You shake the man’s hand, “nice to meet you.” 

His cheek ticks, “you too. I like that vest. Very... quirky.” 

You don’t thank him. You merely retract your hand and adjust the scarf between the open front of your coat. He sidles out of the doorway as he wears a pompous smirk. 

“Come in,” the bodiless voice calls out to you. 

You step into the doorway. The man you’re looking for sits behind his desk. He uses an envelope open to pick at what appears to be a metal shell for a coil of parchment. He delicate traces the lines of the ornate metal cap on the end. 

“I’ll be a moment,” he says. 

“Alright,” you stand in the doorway. He doesn’t welcome you to sit. You introduce yourself in the stagnant lull. 

“I know who you are,” he grumbles as his brow wrinkles at his work. “After all, I sacrificed my day to training you.” 

You don’t appreciate the insinuation. You’re a task he doesn’t want to tend. A burden on what he really wants to do. You can find your way around just fine without him but the email said training was mandatory. You didn’t exactly have any say in who was handed that unlucky chore. 

“I have experience. Three years in the Heron’s Corner archives. And I’ve also done some volunteer work for museums. If you’d rather, I learn just as well from paper or email.” You suggest. 

He huffs, “typical.” 

You don’t reply. Whatever he assumes about you isn’t true but you’re not biting the hook. He grows exasperated and sets the container on its stands and stabs the envelope open into his pen cub. He slaps his hands on his desk and stands. 

“You young ones just want to sit at a computer all day,” he comes around and slides his hands into his pockets. “This job isn’t that.” 

“I’m aware of the job description,” you assure him. 

He stops before you and reaches to brush his fingertips along his thick beard. A thicket of hair falls forward he swoops it back just as swiftly. The cleft in his jaw deepens with his distaste. 

“That’s good. Less to explain, doll face,” he pulls his hand away to check his watch. 

“Fine, let’s get started.” He sniffs, “take notes.” 

He steps forward and you barely have a chance to get out of his way. His jacket flaps as he passes you and you stiffen as you grip the folder tightly. You reach to your coat pocket and take out your silver pen. 

It’s only the first day. Soon enough, you’ll be free to focus on your own work, and he his. 

[rowretro]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖞

(this is a request I hope this went well!!!)

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned (gore etc),Hyper feminine reader, mean af Riki

❁synopsis: The sweet, beautiful human princess married the cold, handsome Vampire prince, for a happy ending in both worlds, where blood shed and murders won't occur anymore. It's perfect, in fact they're such a perfect couple. That's what people believed, but they never understood how broken the couple are behind closed doors...

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

"Listen... uhm Riki? yeah I think I'll sleep on the couch I mean I'm human- you're vampire, on top of that I really doubt you do want to share a bed with me-" "I don't want to share anything with you not like I have a choice-" He cut her off as she nodded, feeling awkward. He finally owns this girl god damit. Instead of being all scared and obedient, she's here, pink silk flowy nightgown hugging her in all the right spots, making her seem like a trophy wife. Nail's all blingy, with charms and hearts, her lips still tinted from her lipstick from before, and lashes all done spikey and stunning.

Riki couldn't stand it. She's one of those annoying, mean girl wannabes who body shame girls that are living life. So he thought. She smiled as she went downstairs, carrying her pet goat to the garden. Yes a pet goat, it even had pink light pink shoes, and matching pink bows. Riki found her intriguing. Annoying. "uhm... I don't wanna sound rude but uhm can you please not drink Veronica's blood?" she asked as Riki blinked "You have a goat called Veronica.... do you get bullied in school?" he asked as she frowned.

"Uhm I don't know how to respond to that.... Of course I don't- I can defend myself when I need to- and I don't think humans get bullied for their pets... Maybe vampires might but not us humans" She said as she placed her goat in the comfy little enclosure, and brought her pet bunnies in. For a girly girl she sure does own a lot of pets. "can I suck their blood?" he asked half jokingly as she frowned.

"Id rather you suck my blood." she said as she pouted at her rabbits, booping their noses as she locked them in the indoors cage. "Woah there Mrs Nishimura... getting a little too attached to a cold blooded vampire" he teased as she rolled her eyes. "I suggest you sleep in my room if you want to be alive.... not all vampires here are as patient as I am." Riki simply said as he grabbed her waist, teleporting her to his room. "I doubt you had to hold me but uhm... thanks?" she thanked, scratching her head as Riki smiled.

She's such a pretty girl, so cute, especially when she's shy and nervous, he's seen her smile, fake and real smile, and its so fucking cute... he wonders how she looks when she cries... He pushes her onto the bed, catching her off guard, hovering over her as he suggestively leaned into her nick, his lips gently grazing her skin. A smirk plastered on his lips as he could hear, and smell the blood rapidly coursing through her veins. He turned to look at her frightened expression, then got up, satisfied.

"You thought I'd actually fucking touch you.... pfft you're too full of yourself y/n... you really aren't all that you know?!" as she just uncomfortably scratched at her arm. It wasn't enough of a reaction for him. "Why do you think the real reason is behind your parents and not your older sister? want me to tell you why?! you're a weak useless stupid girl who fails her studies focuses on her looks no matter how ugly you truly are. You're so worthless they went all in and threw you in the arms of me. Me who loves human blood, especially the blood of a sad, worthless little girl, preferably pretty... but you're ugly" He remarked.

Y/n's eyes became glossy. he was right for the most of it, she was more creative than academic, she loved doing her nails and makeup, but it's therapeutic, and she wasn't the biggest fan of her appearance and her parents are very disappointed in her... she constantly lived in her sister's shadow. But Riki doesn't know any of that. He didn't know until he read through the thoughts that clouded her mind. She truly wanted to die.

She's absolutely ethereal, even when crying. "But you don't need them.... you're the most stunning woman I've ever laid eyes on so as long as I have you all to myself.... everyone is safe." Though his words were absolutely sweet, he's being genuine, he wants this marriage though she doesn't. Yet she can't help but notice something eerie lacing his words... his eerie obsession...

Since their wedding day, he was always with y/n, in the kitchen, in their bedroom, the living room, outside the restroom, even in his office where he forbids anyone from entering. Y/n pouted as she aired her lips, lying on her front on the comfortable airbed, piled with blankets and fluffy pillows. Riki snickerred at the cute view. She's always a sight he loves to see.

She's grown so dependant on him, such a typical 1950's housewife, except she has a loyal loving husband who drinks her blood of course. "Riki im boredddd can't I got to the living room and play with the bunnies?" she asked with a little pout as he got up. She stared him up, and god was he tall, she envied him for having such a perfect waist, but she loves him so dearly. "Sweetheart.... I can't go a second without youuu-" he whined a little, as he snuggled her.

"I need to pee-" she suddenly said as Riki groaned "no you don't" he said bluntly as he snuggled into her neck "no seriously I need to" "no you don't you're making an excuse to leave me." he said as she frowned "Riki im serious. my bladder can only hold so much. and on top of that, if you don't want your expensive tailored trousers, and this fluffy bed, and this nightgown you bought me to be all wet and gross and stinky I suggest you let me go pee now!" she exclaimed in a somewhat calm manner. He sighed getting up as he waited outside the restroom door, waiting for her to finish.

He carried her once she was done, sitting her on his lap as he worked. "Riki..." "hmm?" "Can I visit my parents tomorrow?" she asked biting her lip as he stopped writing, glaring at her coldly "no. you don't need them." He coldly said as she whined "But they're my parents I miss them!" "No you don't. Y/n you have me and im enough, if you want more company, wait a few years we'll have noisy kids. until then, me and your fluffy pets are enough understand?!" he warned as she frowned.

"Why can't I-" "I said NO. FUCKSAKE Y/N YOU'RE MINE NOW. WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TURN YOUR BACK TO ME AND GO VISIT OTHER PEOPLE?! PEOPLE WHO FUCKING HATE YOU?!" he yelled as she flinched, sniffling. Seeing this he snuggled her, kissing her forehead. "awww im sorry for yelling at you babe.... but I love you and you're mine now you know? you're mine all mine."

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

A/n: this isnt that good but oh well, have a jay ff in the waiting, and im currently writting a sunghoon ff inspired by Leo the movie w vijay (i had a dream)

[tyunzonlystar]

Run away with me?

Choi yeonjun

Genre: smut, strangers to fwb to lovers, non-idol au

Warnings: non!idol au, brief mention of abuse, daddy kink, semi-public sex, mentions of bullying,fwb to lovers, slight dirty talk, blowjob (m!receiving), robbing a bank, fake names (yj is called “jungwoo” for a scene, making out, marking, fingering (f!receiving), eating out, (f!receiving), slight spit kink, cum eating, p in v, squirting, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, unprotected sex,lmk if I forgot anything!!

Word count: 1.8k

Ending is rushed and I could only add ten pics so that’s why the dividers are only at the end not proofread either😭

Minors dni‼️‼️‼️‼️

It all started back in the third year of highschool. He had seen you crying in the field and decided to approach you. 

“Are you okay? Why are you crying? I’m Yeonjun by the way.” 

“o-oh…I’m y-y/n.”

“That's a cute name for a cute girl. But why're you crying?”

“I’m being bullied by some guys in the year above me.. A-And they shoved me into my locker and a piece of metal c-cut my back..”

“Let's go to the nurse, okay? And you can sit with me at lunch if you want too..”

“R-Really? You wanna sit with me? At lunch? Where everyone can see?”

“Yeah! I mean I don't have any friends and I'd like you to be my friend.”

“Okay! Thank you, Yeonjun.”

And that's how your friendship began! Then college came around and you guys realized that you only had each other  and nobody would approach you two since you were both loners and never got invited to anything. So one day he had invited you to his dorm to smoke weed and get drunk. 

3 bottles of vodka and 6 joints later you were both horny and pissed and what else can you do when there's only one other person in the room? Correct! You fuck.

“Oh shit… Jjun…”

“HOLY SHIT! WE JUST FUCKED! AHA! OH MY GOD!”

You were ecstatic. You’ve been in love with Yeonjun since he first spoke to you on that field but you don't know if he likes you back considering he laughed after he took your virginity. 

“Jjun do you remember when we first became friends with benefits?”

“Yeah we were high and drunk. Why?”

“Dunno.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I’m staying with my parents for the whole week so we can’t hang out until next week. I gotta go n/n.”

“Alright. Bye Jjun.”

“Bye y/n.”

Disconnected.

You were always bored without Yeonjun being around. And now you can't see him for a week! What are you gonna do without him being balls deep inside you four hours before college? What are you gonna do after college without him? You can’t just go to your hangout spot and smoke weed on your own, can you? Who are you gonna rant to about your problems? You can't call or text him since his parents hate you for “having no manners”. This week is gonna drag. He’s your only friend. The one you gossip with. The one you talk to before and after class. The one you eat your lunch with. The one you vape with behind the building. The one who protects you from assholes. And now he’s an hour away at his parents place. You know everything about his parents. Everything. You know that they abuse him. And that's his biggest secret.

 Shit.. Is he gonna be okay? 

You lay there on your bed overthinking about him. No. About everything. Him, upcoming exams, your own life, your parents. The list goes on. 

Hours of tossing and turning every night, unable to fall asleep without Yeonjuns ‘goodnight’ text. It’s only been 4 days without him and you’re going crazy, snapping at everyone who looks at you weirdly or stares at you for too long, getting angry when your face id doesn't work since your hair is in braids. And now it’s Thursday night. You check the time: 2:06 am. For fucks sake! You tried going to sleep at 11! You have college in less than six hours! 

Walking to your kitchen, your phone pings. A text from..

Yeonjun? 

What the fuck is he doing messaging you? He never messages you when he's with his parents. Sighing, you unlock your phone and read the text.

“She hurt me again, y/n. I also broke her favorite vase when I fell.”

“Jjun, what the fuck happened?”

“I went to the bathroom nd shut the door too loudly and i fucking woke her up!”

“Do you want me to get a taxi to you and you can come back to the dorms?”

“No y/n. They’ll just come to our dorms and take me back to them.”

“I don't know what else to suggest, Yeonjun.”

“Run away with me?”

“What?”

“Run away with me. Come get a taxi and go to the park around the corner from my parents. Bring bags for like 3 outfits, money, food and water to last us, weed, vapes and a hair brush and dry shampoo.”

“Okay. I’ll be over in an hour.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say to the taxi driver before getting out and running over to Yeonjun who’s sitting on the swings.

“So.. Where the fuck are we gonna go?” You ask as you sit on the swing next to him.

“Anywhere.”

“What about college?”

“We’ll start a new life. I mean we’re 20. We have our GCSEs and we don't really need college. We’ll figure something out.”

He leads you to a store to buy burner phones so that nobody can track you down. 

“Just fucking throw it!”

“But it’s an iphone!”

“Do you want people to track us down, y/n?”

“No…”

“Then fucking throw it!”

You groan loudly before throwing your phone off the cliff into water

“There’s an abandoned car park somewhere around here.”

“We’ve been walking for like 4 hours, Jjun. And we’re in the middle of nowhere. I don’t see any fucking car park.”

“Shut up. It’s near. Stop fucking complaining.”

“Stop talking to me like that.”

“Like what, sweetheart? Does it turn you on?”

“Jjun, stop it..”

“See! I told you it's near!”

The car park looked like a dump. I mean it was expected since it's abandoned but there's no other building on site other than run down convenience stores and like two clothing stores. Makes no sense since there's no houses or anything for miles. It’s fine for the time being. 

“Oh shit, baby.. Keep going…making me f-feel so good..s-such a good girl..”

You look up at him through your lashes as you take more of him down your throat, gagging around his length. He throws his head back at the overwhelming pleasure building in him.

“Shit. Shit. SHIT! FUCK! Baby, im so close..shit…so fucking close.. You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?” You pat his thigh twice as a signal for yes.

“Then can you swallow daddy's cum like a good girl?” He lets out a low moan as he shoots his warm load down your throat.

“Daddys good girl aren't you?” “y-yes..”

It’s been three weeks since you and Yeonjun ran away and god knows if anyones bothered looking for you. You both ran out of money so you couldn't buy any more food or water but Yeonjun had a so-called ‘smart’ idea.

“What?! I’m not robbing a bank with you! If we get put in jail we can’t fuck or gossip!”

“Pleaseeeee! We’ll dye our hair and we’ll rob it with masks on and make ourselves look bigger than we are by putting on a fuck ton of layers!”

“Fine.”

“We’re also gonna need fake names.”

“Okay uhm is ‘F/N’ good?”

“Yeah. and call me uhm Jungwoo.”

“Yes, sir.”

“RUN! FUCKING RUN!”

“I AM RUNNING!”

“YES BUT NOT FAST ENOUGH!”

“I CANT RUN ANY FASTER JUNGWOO! I'M 5'5 REMEMBER?!”

“F/N, I DON’T CARE HOW SHORT YOU ARE JUST RUN FUCKING FASTER!”

You never thought you would rob a bank with your best friend yet here you are counting money.

“450,267,934.”

It was $450,267,964 but you bought hair dye. $10 on bleach since Yeonjun had red hair, $10 on pink hair dye for you and another $10 on black hair dye for Yeonjun.

“There's a house a few miles away for sale so we can buy it.”

“We’ll have to give them rent though.”

“Not if we buy the house to own it.”

“Ohhh. Okay let's go!”

“Sit still.”

“It burns, y/n!”

“Shut up, it's the same brand I used when I dyed your hair red.”

“Now you sit still!”

“You're so rough!”

“Yeah, but you like it rough, don't you sweetheart?”

The shower looked like a unicorn murder scene with your pink hair dye mixing with the water along with Yeonjuns black hair dye but it turned a pretty dark pink color.

“Can you wash my back, Jjun?”

“I guess so” He sighs dramatically, adding a petty eye roll into the mix as he slowly rubs the shower gel over your back. His hands slowly grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes widen as you feel his hardness pressing against your lower back.

“Jjun…”

“Please baby…”

You softly sigh, knowing you can't say no to him and his naturally pouty lips. You both quickly wash out the conditioner and wash off the soap from your bodies and the text thing you know you're pressed up against the bathroom door, Yeonjuns tongue invading your mouth. Yeonjun grips your thighs and carries you to your new shared bedroom before throwing you on the bed before his lips attack your neck, biting and sucking softly on your flesh.

“mm…Jjunie…please..” You whimper quietly. 

“Please what, baby?”

“F-Fuck me..please..need you s-so bad..”

“Good girl.”

Yeonjun kisses down your chest, leaving splotchy marks as he praises you every now and again. He looks up at you through his lashes as he settles between your thighs before his tongue peeks out to taste your wetness.

“You taste so good, baby.” He groans, the vibration against your clit making you squirm. Yeonjun nuzzles his face further between your thighs, his nose bumping against your clit as he sloppily makes out with your dripping hole.

“Jjunie-” And before you can finish your sentence yeonjun shoves 2 fingers in your needy hole, curling and finger fucking you as fast as his arm would let him as you continuously clench around him.

“Gonna cum for daddy, angel?” He asks before his lips wrap around your clit sucking harshly before you can even reply. You moan out his name like a chant as you cum on his fingers. Yeonjun sucks your essence off his fingers before his tongue dives back into your hole, collecting your newly passed orgasm. His thumb presses against your bottom lip waiting for you to open your mouth before spitting your own cum into your mouth.

“Swallow.” “Good girl. Are you ready for daddy?”

“Mhm..please..”

He kisses you harshly as he guides his dick to your hole before slowly pushing into you, swallowing up all your moans and whines. Without warning he was hammering into you, hips slamming against yours with each hard thrust. His hand gently snakes around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy with pleasure.

“D-daddy…f-feels so good! Mmphf!”

“Shhh..i know it feels good baby..”

Yeonjun removes his hand from your throat so he can roughly rub your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

“Daddy! ‘m g-gonna cum!” You whine as you clench around him, making him groan.

“Go on, angel. Cum for me” And with that your vision goes blurry and you repeat his name like a ritual as you squirt all over his cock, your juices dripping onto the bed sheets.

“You did so well for me, baby. Be my girlfriend?”

“What?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“YES! YES! YES!”

Years later nobody found you and Yeonjun after you ran away with each other and you now live a happy life with each other and your two kids <33

[homestylehughes]

But Daddy I Love Him

instagram au.

♥︎ luke hughes x zegras! sister

♥︎ face claim: marsai martin

"i forget how the west was won"

yn.zegras

liked by lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 50,567 others

yn.zegras the west coast, and my brother...

view all 100 comments

trevorzegras WOWWW OKAY. only here for the free vacation and not me...

↳ yn.zegras yup!!! how'd you know!!!

↳ trevorzegras i hate you.

↳ yn.zegras i love you too!!

lhughes_06 wow.

↳ yn.zegras 🤭

↳ trevorzegras luke. do not comment on my sisters posts.

↳ yn.zegras trevor shut up.

jackhughes little zegras and big zegras take over the west coast

↳ yn.zegras THE BEST SIBLINGS IN THE NHL!!! (even though i dont play..)

↳ jackhughes you've gotta better wrister than luke, so id say your better than him.

↳ lhughes_06 why do you always bully me.

↳ jackhughes because it's fun!!!

↳ yn.zegras luke don't listen to anything he says, he's jealous of the fact that you have two arm to use and he doesn't :)

↳ jackhughes too soon, yn. too soon.

masonmactavish23 MY FAVORITE ZEGRAS RETURNS!!!!

↳ yn.zegras I ONLY CAME TO SEE YOU!!!!

↳ trevorzegras this is why you're adopted.

↳ yn.zegras OH WOW OKAY. CALLING MOM NOW.

yn.bsf HOTTTTTT WOOFFFFFFFFF

↳ yn.zegras I MISS YOU POOKIIEEEEEEEE

yn.bsf bestie takes over the west coast, with her...hot older brother!

↳ yn.zegras HOT OLDER BROTHER HELLLOOO??

↳ yn.bsf you heard me!

↳ trevorzegras hi :)

↳ yn.zegras TREVOR NO.

jamie.drysdale i love how you come to the west coast when i'm now on the east...

↳ yn.zegras JAMIE IM COMING TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK SHUSH.

↳ jamie.drysdale I KNOW.

lhughes_06 please come back i miss you.

↳ yn.zegras omw!!! i miss you more

↳ lhughes_06 good.

↳ trevorzegras jack do you see this??

↳ jackhughes yeah i do.

_quinnhughes hit trevor for me yn :)

↳ yn.zegras yes captain!

↳ trevorzegras quinn why do you hate me so much?

↳ _quinnhughes nothing personal bud just, your face

↳ yn.zegras QUINN HAHAHA

↳ trevorzegras she just hit me. thanks quinn.

↳ _quinnhughes you're welcome bud!

yn.bsf BIG TREESSSSS

↳ yn.zegras BIGGGG TREESSSSS (i wanted to climb one soooo bad)

trevorfanpage everyone say thank you to yn for blessing us with a new back picture of trevor

↳ yn.zegras IT'S AN HONOUR I'LL KEEP THEM COMING FOR YOU GUY'S

-----------------------------------♡-----------------------------------------

an: hiiiii!!! im down here this time LOL!!! first chapter doneeee!!! it kinda took a while but it was soooo much fun to make!! i hope you guys enjoy it! i'm sorry it's a little short and boring, i wanted to start it off simple and easy. getting into more of luke and yn story later on the upcoming chapters!!

hopefully you guys got the connection between the lyric and the west coast! i was going to put the the lyrics in every chapter, but i kinda find that annoying to do that for every chapter, but i will do it for a few!!!

longer chapters will be coming soon though!! like and reblog if you enjoyed!!! much love as always <33333

tags🎀: @lukey-pookie-hughes43

[thatbitchery]

& remember the first sign of a loser loser loser loser is hating school. Yall should've unfollowed me 2023 this year I'm laying it on you as is.

If you're not in some sort of murder level clas enroll right now. & it has to be so hard it feels like a death sentence

Ladies any form of "escape the matrix" and "you don't need school" & whatever school hating content out there is level down programming meant to keep you stuck and weak. School is the closest imitation to real life you get so dropping a class because it's too hard is your sign to tie yourself to your moms basement and never leave because you sure as heaven not making it in corporate, business, friendships, relationships, and, God Forbid, parenting. You Manifest a future as a stone because that's the most you can do with that mentality. Dropping out because you have anxiety is another great sign to move to the Amazon and cosplay a sloth because if you think there are human interactions in the adult world that won't make you feel anxious ahhh baby my baby. You got it so wrong, baby. If you can't focus in a 30 minute lesson just take your dream board & burn it up burn it upp and try your hand at being a house fly you'll have better luck. If you drop a class because you don't like the teacher stay as far away from romantic relationships and friendships and , especially, corporate & entrepreneurship because girly don't we have news for ya. Can't manage your time? And you want to be a CEO? Are you kidding?

School is the closest imitation to real life you get & the better you are at it the better you are at life, the harder your school life is the better your real life will be. & I mean take biochem engineering & aeronautical engineering first year college, get your ass run over by it BUT learn to sit still, to power through, teamwork, study techniques, etc so no one cares about your A [fun fact most A students don't make it] but did you power through it? K then junior year do the thing you actually like.

Not liking school for whatever reason is loser mentality if you couldn't make it past test drive what makes you think you'll make it on the highway. Back in high-school when I told my grandma I'm giving up on my scholarship because I'm getting bullied and tortured and ostracized her response wasn't a hug it was a slipper grandma of color style because do you think that won't happen in your adulthood? You think you run from a problem and it goes away? Go back in and make it tf. Notice how I'm not focused on what grade you get? My friend works at firm (one of the top of the country) that don't employ people with a history of As , it's not about academic excellence, can you get to cheer practise at 6 am and be in class by 7? What makes you think you can be a mom then? "Independent" can you schedule yourself? Manage classes, sports, hobbies, a part-time job, home chores , friendships, and free time? WHAT DO YOU THINK ADULTHOOD IS ABOUT? what makes you think running from that in school (where you have guidance & forced community) will keep you safe? Out here you're all alone sis. And now the government protects you like a treasure that ID days 18 and its up to you to protect yourself. If you can not sit still in a 30 minutes class you don't like what makes you think you're cut out for corporate? Yall ain't never left your moms house and it shows, no one that has been in the real world has that level of delulu.

Pick the damn calculus class & power from an E to a C- so when you're running your business & you meet hard things you dislike you have muscle memory to power through it & bc your business is something you like it's easier. Go to school with the girls that dislike you & find a way out of that so when your mom in law or officemates are being flaky you know what to do, you don't run. Sit through that class with that one homphobic sexist bigoted teacher so when you land a job at your dream firm you don't resign in six days and sabotage shit because you're delulu enough to think your little tantrum matters.

School , especially boarding school, is the closest imitation to real life you get. Power through it, take advantage of the resources & always chase the hardships now that you have people charged with guiding you so you're not 25 unmotivated with no accomplishment despite your A's , barely functional adult feeling like a loser because you let tiktok & escape the matrix bojo creators lie to you. Do you want to be one of those 35 year olds heavy on magical thinking because you didn't learn what your parents literally paid for you to learn under the guise of 'self care'. Don't be dumb dumb.

Success spills over

[thelov3lybookworm]

Are You Flirting?

modern!au

Summary: Who's the cute guy she was talking about last night?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 4863

Warnings: flirty lucien, shy reader but shes like 'yknow what fuck shyness lets flirt back' lmaoo

A/n: yall i need you to know. the reader is based on me. shes literally me. i crochet too if yal didnt know hehe. this was so fun to write like it felt like wring my own story except this shit never happened irl lol.

idk ill stop rambling now 😂

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYY 🥹

p.s: id say the credit for this idea goes to my bestie boo @berryzxx because she put me on the song that i used as inspo for tis fic and also bullying me into writing for that song. ily lots pooks 🤭

(based on an indian song 👀)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The moment Y/n got the text from her college best friend Feyre, Y/n knew having picked up crocheting as a hobby was the best thing she could ever have done.

Exaggerating aside, she was excited when Feyre asked her if she wanted to reconnect after two years of not talking, and Y/n said yes without hesitation.

They hadn’t talked much, only ever interacting with each other’s instagram posts and stories. Feyre was too busy most of the time painting and opening her own gallery to display her art, taking commissions sometimes and travelling with her fiance.

And even though Y/n had wanted to stay in touch, being an upcoming writer, she did not get too much time to talk as she was busy writing all the time, and when she wasn’t, she was lying in bed wondering why she was in a slump.

Hence, she had picked up crocheting as a new hobby and made some pretty cute tops, imagining herself wearing them to a beach or somewhere pretty. She had been thinking of going somewhere as a vacation to clear her mind.

Which was why when Feyre suggested flying to some beach island her fiance owned for a little getaway with friends, Y/n could not contain her excitement.

Now as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, trying to pick between the two outfits in her hand, wondering which one to wear, she wished she had a boyfriend. Or a husband. Or something. She had always been an indecisive person, and at moments such as this, she wished someone could help her pick her outfits.

Feyre was probably on her way and here Y/n stood, wondering which one to wear and which one to put in her bag to wear the next day.

Ughh fuck me.

Finally, she settled on a pastel pink cardigan and a white halter top with a white bell bottom jeans. She wanted to make a good impression on Feyre’s new friends and decided that the safer option was better. She could wear the other one after she got more comfortable with them.

She had never even met Feyre’s fiance. The two had met and gotten engaged after Y/n and Feyre drifted apart, but Y/n had congratulated her friend on her insta post, so surely that counted as something?

Now that reminder had her reconsidering. Was going vacationing with people she did not know really the best idea?

I mean, what if one of them is a serial killer? What if one of them is suicidal and kills us all-

Maybe she should just cancel.

She was eyeing her phone, genuinely wondering if she should go, when the screen lit up and Feyre’s name flashed across the screen, the soft lilting sound of Y/n’s ringtone filling the air.

So it was decided. Y/n was going.

Y/n answered the call while simultaneously shouldering her bag. "Hello?"

Feyre’s excited voice screeched in her ear from the other end. "Y/n! I’m under your apartment now. Are you ready?"

Instantly, her mood became better and Y/n wondered why she ever considered refusing to go in the first place. Even if she was a stranger to Feyre’s friends, she still had Feyre. She was sure it wouldn’t be as awkward as she was expecting it to be.

Straightening, she glanced around her room for a final time before nodding to herself, confirming that she was not forgetting anything. "Yes, babe. As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m coming down."

Feyre squealed, and Y/n could hear chuckles from the background at her friend’s antics. "I can't wait!"

With that, Y/n ended the call and walked out of her apartment, closing the door behind her, focusing on the jingle of her keychain and not on the nervousness running through her veins.

Soon, as she walked out of the elevator on the ground floor, she spied two dark cars waiting outside. It made her hurry. The moment she exited, she spied her friend leaving the car, grinning.

Feyre ran the short distance to Y/n, throwing all her body weight onto her friend, making Y/n giggle.

"Calm down Fey! I’m not going anywhere."

Feyre pulled away with a wide grin, shaking her head, then grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her back to the car she had exited.

"We're a total of ten people, five in that car-" she pointed to the one standing behind the one she had exited- "and five of us in this one." Y/n nodded, trying to calm her nerves.

Feyre then got in, leaving Y/n to get in the back. Feyre’s fiance was sitting in the driver’s seat, black aviation glasses perched on his nose. He offered Y/n a warm smile and a wave before Feyre piped up.

"Y/n, this is my fiance Rhysand. That is Azriel, Rhys’s foster brother and his girlfriend, Gwyneth."

Y/n dipped her head in a polite nod to the couple sharing the back seat with her, but Gwyneth had no qualms about hugging Y/n. Y/n was surprised to say the least by the sudden affectionate action, but she returned it nonetheless with a wide grin.

"Nice to meet you all."

"Everyone, this is my best friend from university, as well as my then roommate, Y/n."

Azriel gave her a tiny smile, his loving gaze returning to his girlfriend not a moment later.

It made Y/n want to go aww, because if that was not pure love right there, then Y/n did not know what was. It made her long to have someone of her own.

Rhys started the car, and the first ten minutes passed in comfortable silence. And then Feyre spoke.

"So, Y/n. Please tell me you’re seeing someone."

Y/n sighed. "You would’ve been the first person to know had I been."

Feyre twisted to glare at Y/n.

"What?"

"Why are you still single?"

"Haven’t found the one yet."

Feyre contemplated for a moment, then grinned. "You know, I’ve got a friend-"

"Not again Feyre!" Y/n turned to Gwyneth. "You know, she would send me on dates with these random dudes every day-"

"Not every day!"

Y/n glared at her friend in jest. "Only because I bullied you to leave me alone."

Feyre sighed dramatically, then plopped back into her seat. "You’re mean."

Gwyn snickered. "Why did you not end up with any of them then?"

Y/n shook her head solemnly. "They were all either too arrogant or ugly."

That made everyone laugh, and finally, Azriel spoke up. "And how did you find so many guys, Feyre?"

Y/n perked up. "I want to know too! I always wondered if she went to asylums to get me a worse specimen than the last."

"Oh my god Y/n, they were just guys from our university and the neighbouring ones."

Y/n smiled. It was fun being around her friend again. It felt like the never stopped talking, picking up from where they left off.

"You know, we’ve got three single people in the other car."

Y/n dropped her head in her palm, and Gwyn cackled.

"Come on Y/n, they’re not that bad. One of them is a guy, but the other two are women. You can experiment if that’s what you want. Maybe that’s the reason you never connected with any guys I set you up with."

Y/n made a crying face and leaned her head against Gwyn, who continued to vibrate with silent laughter. "God help me."

Eventually, Feyre dropped the topic, ending up talking about random nonsense after that. Azriel also chimed in sometimes, but mostly it was either Feyre and Rhysand talking and Gwyn and Y/n laughing and giving unwanted commentary.

They had to take two helicopters to the island, which had Y/n wondering just how big of a jackpot Feyre had gotten engaged to. The ride to the beach home from the helipad after was again two cars.

While boarding the helicopter, Y/n had spied the other friends of Feyre and Rhysand getting out of their car, but she had averted her gaze when the redheaded man had turned to look, hoping she didn’t seem like a creep while she had been trying to take a look at their faces.

The ride to the beach house, as they called it, was silent because Y/n, Gwyn and Feyre dozed off for most of it, already tired after so much travelling. And before they knew it, the midday sun shone through the windows of the car as it finally stopped in the gated compound of a mansion that looked straight out of architectural digest.

Y/n could not stop gaping at it as she got out of the car, then turned to hold the door open for Gwyn.

"It’s so big and beautiful." Gwyn commented, her eyes too fixed on the two story structure. Y/n shot her a knowing look.

"I know right? Only seen stuff like this in the movies."

The two shared a giggle before Azriel joined them on their side and the trio followed Rhysand and Feyre to the main doors.

Rhysand had just climbed the top step when the doors opened, two ladies with long black hair cascading down their backs standing behind them, and Y/n decided that they were twins.

"Nuala, Cerridwen." Rhysand nodded at them with a smile, then turned to the people standing behind him when the twins left.

"I think it’s best if we freshen up and rest for some time before dinner."

The tall guy who had been driving the other car sighed dramatically, burying his head in Nesta’s shoulder. "Thank god, I am tired."

Nesta rolled her eyes, then smiled at Y/n. Being Feyre’s roommate, Y/n had met Nesta on multiple occasions and admired the woman a lot. Nesta, too, had always looked after Y/n like a sister when the three would go out to dinner.

"Y/n. How are you?"

Y/n dipped her head, then stepped forward and pulled Nesta into a hug. "I’m good. Your fiance?"

Nesta nodded, glancing at the hulk of a man. "This is Cassian. Cass, this is-"

"Y/n, heard a lot ‘bout ya." He grinned, extending his hand for a shake.

Y/n smiled at him, then turned back to Nesta and Feyre as the latter began speaking. "Y/n, this is Elain, my other sister. Mor, Rhysand’s cousin, and Lucien, my friend."

After everyone had been introduced, all of them retreated to their rooms. It seemed like they had these outings a lot, because the way everyone was so familiar with the layout of the house would have been uncanny had this been their first time here.

Except for Lucien. He seemed a little hesitant, lingering back with Y/n as everyone else left. But then Feyre directed the two to the upper floor, where two guest rooms were waiting for them.

The rooms were next to each other, so Y/n and Lucien were together till the very last moment. It gave Y/n a lot of time to admire the man’s attractiveness through stolen glances, and she wished it did not for she was not able to control the movement of her jaw that kept unhinging every chance it got at the sheer beauty of him.

Gosh, if he is the guy Feyre wants to set me up with, I am truly going to be blessed.

As the two finally reached the top step, Lucien glanced at Y/n.

"First time here?"

"Yup. In fact, I’m seeing Fey for the first time since we finished uni."

His brows rose. "Damn. How long has it been?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Around two years. What about you? Your first time too?"

He nodded, then paused at the first door to meet her eyes when he answered. "I’ve recently started getting along with her family." he thought for a moment, then leaned closer, as if letting her in on a secret. "I was actually the friend of her previous boyfriend, but none of them liked him and so they didn’t trust me much either. But now they’re moving on and so am I."

Y/n did not know how to respond to that, trying to wrap her mind around how anyone could be mad at someone who seemed as nice as Lucien. But he spared her the struggle.

"That’s a nice cardigan. Where’d you get it from?" His eyes travelled down her body, his gaze appreciative as it landed on the pastel crocheted garment. "Maybe I could get a similar one. We can match."

Y/n blinked at him, then ducked her head, futilely trying to hide her blush.

"Um, I made it myself."

He remained silent for a moment, prompting her to meet his gaze once again.

"You’re kidding."

She blinked again. "Why would I?"

He huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the doorframe. "So, you’re telling me you’re pretty and talented?"

Y/n could not move if she wanted to. She could not think. She could not do anything but stare at him.

This man, one who looked like he belonged on the cover of vogue, was telling her she was pretty?

God help me.

She looked around, flustered by the tiny smile blooming on his face, cocky but also knowing. He knew the effect he had on her and the damned man was enjoying it too much.

"Well, I will let you rest now. After all, you need to get some energy back for later tonight."

If those words had come from anyone else, Y/n would have wondered if they were saying she looked tired and like shit, but coming from him, the words were nothing but caring, if a touch flirtatious.

Wait, was that an innuendo?

She did not have time to dwell on that part much before he stepped aside, swiping his arm toward the door behind him. "Take a look at both rooms, then pick one you want. I will wait."

Y/n dipped her head, trying not to blush even more when he opened the door for her and leaned back, letting her pass.

She was much too flustered to even look around the room, let alone see if she liked it or wanted the other room, so she just mumbled to him that she will stay in this one, that he could take the other room.

Y/n knew he was about to ask her if she was sure, but whatever he saw in her face had him nodding, stepping back out of the room, tugging the door close with him as he went.

"See you soon, sweetheart." His parting words were heavy with the same knowing lilt he had a few minutes back when he had been flirting with her. It made Y/n’s cheeks heat up, and she turned to the bed, plopping down and burying her face in the plush pillows.

He was flirting with me.

Maybe… Feyre was right about him. Maybe I should give him a chance.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

After a light lunch and a few hours of rest, everyone had simultaneously gathered in the living room as if summoned by a silent command. Y/n had tried to sleep, and had accomplished the feat, but at the cost of tossing and turning every five minutes for an hour, her mind refusing to let her wind down and repeatedly playing the memories of Lucien flirting.

At least, she thought he was flirting. Y/n hoped she was not making a fool of herself for thinking that he was flirting while he simply was being kind.

She had gotten all of two hours of sleep before she shoved the covers off of her and decided to take a shower to freshen up, then she had proceeded to don a flowy sundress and walked downstairs. The hallways were empty, the only sign that she was not alone being the twins in the kitchen. They offered Y/n a smile before introducing themselves, then asked her if she needed anything.

Y/n had thought about it, then shook her head, telling them she just wanted to get some water. They graciously handed her a glass of it, despite her protests, and then they left her to her own devices.

She had just been sipping on it while staring at the sun setting when footsteps behind her let her know she was no longer alone, and she turned to look at Morrigan and Elain, who had walked down together. They offered her a smile, then sat along with her at the counter in swivelling chairs, the quiet comfortable and peaceful.

That was, before Cassian decided to grace them with his presence.

"Are Feyre and Rhys still not here?"

Y/n blinked, tearing her eyes away from the now violet horizon, barely any sliver of light visible, and gave him a smile. "Not yet."

He gagged. "They’re probably doing nasty stuff."

Nesta walked in with Gwyn and Azriel behind her, her eyebrows high.

"Like you don’t fuck."

He glared at Nesta. "Can you be a little more crass? I am trying to make new friends here."

Y/n hid her smile behind her cup, but considering it was a clear glass, she did not think it would work very well.

"So Y/n, what do you do during free time?"

Y/n set her now empty cup aside, turning all her attention to Cassian, who was done bickering with his fiance.

"I do crocheting while listening to podcasts, or I read when I just want to wind down. I also write."

He nodded appreciatively. "So you’re a creative person, huh."

"And she has a very pretty smile too."

Y/n felt her cheeks heating up already when she heard Lucien’s voice, but when she finally comprehended what he had said, she wondered if she’d just melt off.

God. Please, help me.

She tried not to meet his eyes, because even knowing him for barely a few hours, she knew he’d give her a knowing smirk, his eyes bright.

Cassian chuckled, and Y/n could feel everyone’s eyes on her.

Fuck.

Thankfully, Feyre and Rhysand finally arrived and took the attention away from her, and she felt like she could finally breathe again.

The couple asked what everyone wanted for dinner, bickering around for a few moments while Lucien, Elain, Azriel and Y/n watched.

Before long, Mor announced she was craving some barbecue, and when no one argued further, Rhys told everyone to gather on the back porch that faced the beach while he got the things out. When Y/n offered to help along with Feyre and Gwyn, Rhysand just told them to sit back and relax.

And then he dragged the other men with him.

Guess they won’t be getting any relaxing time.

The night passed almost too quickly to be natural, and Y/n already felt like she’d known these people for her whole life. Nesta and Gwyn refused to let anyone else talk to her because they were too busy asking her of all the books she’d read and inquiring whether she was planning on publishing.

Y/n could see Feyre pouting in the corner, but eventually Mor engaged her in a conversation, so Y/n’s guilt at not being able to give her friend enough time subsided.

When Nesta and Gwyn finally got distracted, Y/n leaned back, taking in the cool air when her neck prickled. Looking around, she met the gaze of Lucien from over the glowing barbeque, her cheeks flushing even when he hadn’t said or done anything. But he continued to look at her, the slightest tilt to those inviting lips.

Smug bastard.

When everything was cooked, Rhys called everyone to the outdoor dining table, the wood rich but warm, homey.

Y/n found two seats next to Gwyn, who beckoned her over. She smiled and had just settled down next to her new friend when she realised someone was sitting down next to her on the empty seat.

And it was not Feyre.

Mismatched eyes found her surprised gaze, and Lucien grinned at her.

"Lucien! That was my seat!"

He held eye contact with Y/n for a long moment before turning to a fuming Feyre. "Well, you can sit on my lap, darlin’. But I am already too comfortable in this seat to move."

Feyre huffed, the perfect picture of annoyance. But Y/n could see the glint in her eyes that told her that Feyre was having way too much fun right now watching Y/n blush.

When Feyre turned away to pout at her grinning fiance, Lucien leaned close to Y/n. "Or maybe, you can sit on my lap and I can give this seat to Feyre?"

Y/n turned away, trying to hide the warm flush on her skin at that. "I think Feyre will find herself another seat."

He chuckled quietly but let the topic go after that.

In the end, Feyre sat at the seat on the right of the head seat of the table, next to Lucien. Rhysand sat at the head, opposite Azriel, who occupied the seat on the other side of Gwyn, refusing to leave her side.

Everyone started to serve themselves, but just as Y/n was contemplating what to get, Lucien leaned past her, his scent enveloping her along with his warmth, and grabbed some grilled chicken.

"Try this, it’s good." With that, he put a few pieces on her plate, then continued to serve himself. He seemed so nonchalant, so careless as if he hadn’t just set Y/n’s heart on fire.

Like he wasn’t the reason she could not think straight.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n did not know how the days passed so quickly. Agreed, it was a four day getaway, and yet it felt like barely any time passed and it was already the day they had to return home.

If she had to be honest, she did not want to leave the bed. Her limbs felt like they were tied down, heavy metal placed on top to stop her from moving. She felt so tired, as if her body was trying to stay here just a little longer, and maybe being tired would get her to stay.

Which was the reason why she forced herself to push off the covers and set her legs on the cold, wood floor and traipsed sleepily towards the window to check if she had missed the sunrise again. She had been wanting to watch it since they all arrived, but every day for the past three days, she had slept away without a care.

She’d had to set an additional alarm to wake up earlier.

The sky outside was dark, almost blue. But she knew dawn wasn’t far off.

She hurried to freshen up, then walked down the stairs to get herself a glass of water.

After she had acquired her drink, she stepped out and settled down on the two seater swing on the back porch, under her own room’s balcony. The air was chilly, but not enough to have her want to get up and bring a shawl or something to keep herself warm.

She also felt really lazy as she began sipping on her water slowly.

Gosh, I love water.

She refrained from drinking anything that was not water or milk.

She was also lactose intolerant, but, who really cares about that.

Y/n had just leaned back, wrapping both her hands around her cup when she heard movement behind her. But she let herself relax, knowing it probably was Lucien.

That was one of the many things she’d learned about him in the past days.

He always woke up at dawn. He apparently then did some light gym when he could before breakfast, to keep himself in that drool worthy body.

His words, not mine.

Okay… Maybe mine.

And maybe, just maybe, Y/n had wanted to witness her first ever sunrise, had wanted to wake up earlier even though she disliked being up early just so she could spend some extra time with him.

Maybe.

It didn’t take him long to settle down beside her, his own cup of steaming beverage in hand. It looked like green tea to Y/n, who’d had experience with making it for her father nearly every day.

"Good morning." His voice was rough, the sleep evident in it.

Don’t blush, don't blush. He’s just said good morning.

She blushed. Just a little. "Morning."

"Sleep well?"

Y/n nodded, watching him from her peripherals as the swing dipped slightly with his added weight.

"Still sleepy though. First time I woke up by myself to watch the sunrise." She paused for a moment, glancing at him. His lips were curled to one side as he stared out over the beach, his gaze fixated to the horizon. She shrugged. "Usually it’s by my family dragging me and bullying me into waking up early."

He huffed out a chuckle, but after that let silence settle between them.

The air was so peaceful, it brought a sense of calm over Y/n.

Maybe she could get used to this.

The two sat and watched as the sun rose, so slowly but also too fast. Y/n wished to enjoy this time forever, wanted to continue taking in the soft orange and pink hues that painted the sky as the glowing ball of fire rose higher in the sky. Wanted to bask in the presence that nestled into the pillows next to her, wanted to ink the sound of his soft breathing permanently into her existence.

It was over too soon, and even though Y/n savoured every second of it, she could not help but feel a sense of longing the moment Lucien straightened. She did not want to let go of this moment just yet.

He seemed to think so too.

Just when she thought he’d get up and walk back inside, he turned his head to stare at her.

"So, who’s the cute guy you were talking about last night with Fey?"

Y/n’s lips quirked up, a sudden burst of boldness spurring her on. But she paused as she thought back to Feyre’s words the previous night.

"Do you like him?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh please, I see the way you blush when he’s near. I see the way he follows you around like a lost puppy. I am not naive, sweet pea."

Y/n sighed. "I guess he’s cute."

Feyre squealed. "You need to go on a date with him."

If Y/n gave him the truthful answer, would she be making a fool of herself? Would she be doing herself the biggest favour ever? Did he even like her that way?

Finally, she decided that if she never tried, she might regret it later.

Feeling her gaze on him, she turned, knowing he waited for her answer. He sported a cheeky grin, eyes half lidded, as if he was more relaxed than he’d ever been.

She leaned in conspiratorially.

"You."

His grin faded, and he sat up straighter.

"What?"

"You’re the cute guy we were talking about."

He blinked, and Y/n did her best to hide her smug smile at the way his ears darkened with colour.

"Are you joking or flirting?" he mumbled, brows furrowed.

Oh, so he can flirt, but can’t take the flirting?

She told herself to remember that tidbit for later.

Y/n could not help it then. She let loose the smirk that broke out of her, and leaned closer still, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, so close that she knew that if she were to inhale, his lingering cologne from the previous day would take over every one of her senses.

Maintaining eye contact, she whispered.

"Flirting."

He did not move anything except for his eyes as she stood, his gaze following her like a physical caress. Just before she turned the corner out of his eyesight, she glanced back at him.

And winked.

She watched as a disbelieving grin formed on his lips, and then decided that was enough flirting for a year at least and ascended the stairs back to her room.

Feyre will lose her mind.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she no longer felt that burst of confidence that came out of nowhere. Suddenly, she was a blushing mess as she shoved her face into the pillows and tried to calm her racing heart.

Her phone pinged then.

Feyre: ‘Lucien just texted me asking for your number. Is it okay if I give it?’

Y/n bit her lip to keep away the flustered smile. Just as she told Feyre to give it to him, she texted back.

Feyre: ‘Is there something I need to know? Why are you up so early anyway?’

Y/n decided that was enough. Feyre could wait.

Who’s the cute guy?

You.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

[crowfanity]

Some more text post memes!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(ID under cut)

[ID: A series of ten text post memes with Ace Attorney character sprites

The first image is a twitter post with Miles Edgeworth looking smug. The tweet reads “proud to announce that i am making a Bad decision but I’m not telling y’all what it is so u can’t stop me”.

The second image is of a tumblr post. An anon with Athena Cykes’ angry sprite next to it asks “Have you ever met someone who you just weren’t able to bully?” Underneath it is Simon Blackquill’s sprite with a smirk next to the response “no. I’m a very unpleasant person”.

The third picture is of a joke article title that says “If You Want To Achieve Enlightenment, You’re Gonna Have To Go Through Me”. In the corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi with his hand up in meditation.

The fourth photo is a tumblr screenshot. It says “my flatmate has just rocked in with the two lesbianest lesbians I’ve ever seen and introduced them as “my sister and my sister’s... roommate”. Underneath it has Kay Faraday grinning on the left, and on the right is Ema Skye’s confident sprite from Investigations next to pictures of Lana Skye with a neutral expression and Mia Fey smiling with her arms crossed.

The fifth image is a twitter conversation. The first tweet has a picture of teenage Maya Fey looking solemn with her head tilted down a bit. The text reads “The realization that the switch is 5 years old and they’re probably gonna reveal their next console in a couple of years just hit me like a fucking truck”. Underneath that is a response saying “I used to go into hospitals and switched the babies around. You can’t do stuff like that anymore, too many cameras.” To the right of that comment is a picture of Zak Gramarye in his magician outfit with his hands on his hips and laughing.

The sixth picture is of a single twitter post. In the bottom right corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi smiling with his eyes closed. The tweet says “Back in Uni, a girl mocked my presentation one time so I searched for her group and asked the topic they were presenting on. I spent 4 days researching on it and asked her so many questions like it was common knowledge that she cried. Stay blessed precious one.”

The seventh picture is of a short Facebook conversation. The first names are censored but the two commenters have the same last name. The first post says “I’d kill my own brother to be in bed right now I don’t even care” with a smiling emoji at the end. To the lower right of the comment is a picture of Aura Blackquill smiling with her chin in her hand as she leans on an upset Clonco. To the left of the second comment is a sprite of Simon Blackquill glaring. The reply says “I’d like to see you try you silly cunt I’ll put you in the fucking ground”.

The eighth photo is of a Grindr conversation. The first message is on the right with a yellow text box and just says “hey” next to a sprite of trilogy Phoenix Wright smiling awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head. The next two messages are on the left and have blue text boxes next to a sprite of Larry Butz playfully rubbing the back of his head with his eyes closed and tongue sticking out. The messages from him read “Hey” “Just so you know I’m not gay or anything”. The next message is next to a sprite of Phoenix looking confused/annoyed and sweating. It says “this is grindr my guy”. The response is next to an image of Larry looking angry with his eyes closed, teeth clenched, and hands balled into fists. The message says “I guess people who are lactose intolerant can’t walk down the fucking dairy aisle? I’m just looking”.

The ninth image is of a single tweet. In the upper right is Athena Cykes’ thinking sprite as she touches her earring. In the bottom right is a sprite of Simon Blackquill looking up and away from the camera and frowning. The tweet reads “My uncle, the countriest guy I know, just said “I fuckin hate seeing chipmunks cause it means there ain’t no big cool birds around””.

The last photo is of a single tweet in a chat format. In the upper right is a picture of Wocky Kitaki with his arms crossed and smirking awkwardly while looking away, looking smug yet nervous. Underneath him is Apollo Justice’s disheartened sprite, slouching forward a bit and looking annoyed/exhausted. The tweet says “me: [whispering to my lawyer]” “my lawyer: I’m not asking that” “me: [whispering some more]” “my lawyer: your honor would he still be guilty if he was a worm”.

/End of ID]